whose interference, and almost with a certainty of having found him here, in consequence of knowing he was in the habit of meditating at this hour in these lonely walks, relative to the haughty Rodolph, one of the pretenders to her hand, she now soughtwhose presumption, in continuing to importune her with his addresses, she herself vainly endeavoured to check; but which, by requesting the father to remonstrate with him on the subject, she trusted she should at length be freed from; and for which he could not be at a loss for an opportunity, in consequence of Rodolph's frequent visits to the convent, owing to the intimacy subsisting between him and the Abbot, under whose protection he had, in some degree, been.

A generous motive led her to apply to him on the subject, instead of her father. Rodolph, in a great measure, depended on him for his advancement in life; and to acquaint him with his presumption, would, she was convinced, occasion the destruction of all his prospects.

The certainty of his suit being one the duke would never sanction, would of itself have been sufficient to have made her reject it, even though her heart had been unprejudiced in favour of another. This, however, was by no means the case; already had it owned a powerful prepossession, but much she an unhappy one; yes, already had her bosom aced the pang of disappointment, already had ith the sigh of regret.

Her steps towards the cloisters, soothed gloom, that had already involved the e where through the storied panes d the still fiery horizon shed

But she was here again disappointed. In hopes, however, the father might yet come, she resolved on remaining here a little while; but had scarcely done so, when she was driven from the spot by the approaching voice of the duke, in conversation with the Abbot; and by whom she was aware she could not be discovered here, without inquiries being excited that must lead to the consequences she wished to prevent.

A door in an obscure part of the cloisters afforded her the means of retreating. On passing through it, she found herself in a lonely aisle, in which she had not before been, the cloisters having hitherto been the utmost limit to which she had advanced, lit at the further end by one magnificent window of stained glass, and leading immediately to that wing which, owing to the great extent of the building, it had not been deemed requisite to repair, on the reconquest of the province in which it was situated, from the Saracens.

She proceeded through a succession of mouldering arches and dilapidated aisles, till she found herself in another range of cloisters, surmounted by several lofty but decayed parts of the edifice, on which the evening sun seemed to suspend his beams, as if loth to withdraw them from the hallowed ruins; and where, losing all apprehension of being followed, she paused, for the purpose of remaining till she should think it probable the duke had quitted the church.

The enclosure formed by the cloisters was overrun with high grass and trees; but now, unagitated by a breath of air, all was dread silence here and undisturbed.

As her emotion subsided, the hour, the scene, gradually began to inspire the fair Elvina with that reverential awe, that divine melancholy, which sooths the agitated passions into peace, ameliorates the heart, and disposes it to holy meditation.

Under the influence of the feelings they awakened, she almost wished, still dwelling on the idea of having been deceived, that the solitude of a convent had been her doom.

"For surely," thought she, "the life of the cloistered votaress must be the happiest, since exempt from all that can disturb peace or endanger virtue.

She forgot, in the enthusiasm of the moment, that as storms are requisite to purify the air, so interruptions to tranquillity are sometimes necessary to make us thoroughly enjoy it; and that that is but a negative kind of virtue, which has never been put to the

test.

As her eyes wandered round her, an old tomb in the enclosure, and nearly lost in the high weeds and briers that grew about it, caught her attention. The effigy of a youth, in an extended attitude, like that of death, rested on it; and bending over him knelt a weeping female.

The sculpture was rude, but in the design there was something that interested her. She strove to decypher the inscription, but time had rendered it illegible.

"And this neglect shall the ashes of the proudest of us experience," she involuntarily sighed, as, with a chilling sensation, she viewed the rank grass that spired up between the crevices of the tomb, and the various injuries it had sustained, "when the few that loved us, like ourselves, have passed away and been forgotten. At this now neglected tomb, what tears of anguish may not have been shed, what solicitude manifested to guard it from decay!

Her reflections were interrupted by a deep sigh behind her. Startled, she hastily turned round, and beheld the tall and slender form of a monk leaning against a pillar.

Recovering from her alarm, yet confused at being found lingering here by herself, after a momentary hesitation, she inquired for father Anselm; and, in an under tone, was informed by the monk, that he was then engaged in the confessional, but would soon, he doubted not, be at liberty to join her.

With a slight inclination of the head, she turned from him; but after another glance at the tomb, again directing her looks to him, inquired if he knew to whom it was dedicated?

"To a lovely but unfortunate pair," he replied, advancing a little way from the pillar, but without throwing back the cowl which enveloped his countenance; "if the tradition concerning them be true, the particulars of their sad story are too tedious for your ear at present-suffice it to know, they were the last descendants of two illustrious families belonging to this province, and who, from an early period, entertained a mutual passion for each other; which, opposed in consequence of a long-cherished feud between their houses, exposed them to disappointments and persecutions, that ended in hurrying them to an early grave, happy but in this, that though not united in life, in death they were not separated, leaving their childless sires to lament too late their obstinacy-too late their yielding to the voice of rancorous and unjustifiable prejudice, instead of that of nature.

"Many are the pilgrimages that have been made to their tomb; and still, notwithstanding the generations that have passed away since their consignment to it, their memory is cherished by the tender and the feeling. When the shadows of evening begin to fall, the glories of this nether scene to fade, when the grass of the tomb whistles hollow in the breeze of night, then the fond enthusiast loves to stray beneath the mournful shadow of the trees that overhang it, and apostrophize the spirits of those whose rest, perhaps, he involuntarily envies!"

There was something in this short recital, but still more in the accents of him who gave it, reviving, as they did, from their strong resemblance to those of a being she in vain strove to forget, the most interesting recollections, which deeply affected Elvina.

Full, clear, and melodious, the voice of the monk was calculated to impart a charm to the simplest relation, to seize and fascinate the soul. She felt as if she could have listened to his mellifluous tones; and turning her humid eyes upon him, that, like the dewy star of evening, shone in tears, gazed with intense, though unconscious earnestness upon him.

The gracefulness of his slender figure now struck her still more forcibly than it had done in the first instance, heightening the interest he had excited; his countenance yet remained concealed, but there was something in his air and manner, which induced a belief of his being under the influence of sorrow.

"A sorrow to which, perhaps, was owing his assumption of the cowl," she mentally sighed. "Ah! if one that could have been relieved by human means, would that I had known it in time!" Then, suddenly recollecting herself, she thanked him for the trouble he had been at in answering her inquiry. "Peace to the souls of the departed! she cried; "in the other world may that happiness be theirs," her radiant eyes uplifted to heaven as she spoke, and the shading veil thrown over her, half falling back from her beauteous face, "which in this was denied! Alas, to what mysterious woes are mortals born!"

"Rather say," returned the monk, with a degree of asperity in his accent, "what woes do they draw upon themselves by their infuriate passions! how many, like the silent inmates of this tomb, have fallen victims to unbending prejudices! Heaven is prodigal of its blessings; but man, erring and violent, mars its goodness, and yielding to the waywardness