landlord, who was lying before the fire, bleeding profusely from wounds in his neck and shoulder. Him we secured, and he subsequently confessed that the clothes which I saw in the closet, were those of a pedlar whom they had robbed and murdered about a month previous. It was their intention to have performed the same friendly office towards me, having for a long time marked me for their prey, as I returned some evening from the fair; for which purpose one of the gang had stolen Blâinor, whom they imagined they had sufficiently secured in the cellar. The robber recovered from his wounds, however; was tried at Shrewsbury, and there executed; but although all possible means were put in practice for the apprehension of his accomplices two of whom were dreadfully torn by Blâinor, they were never heard of afterwards."

VOICE OF THE FALLING LEAVES.

A pilgrim through the forest went-
The sear leaves fast around him fell,
Each, like a sign from Heaven sent,
His own sad doom to tell.

The yellow leaves went whispering by,
Each in its passage seem'd to say--
"Companion, learn of us to die,
We go the self-same way!"

"Nay," said the hopeful man, I" g›

Unto a far and sunnier clime,

Where the green leaves no winter know,
Beyond the blast of time

THE CONSCRIPT BROTHERS

Ir was in the dark and smoky room of an ale-house, the wall stained by the dirt of years, that three young men were seated at a table. Their coarse and scanty meal stood untasted before them. Their muskets rested against the wall, and their knapsacks lay on the floor. The storm beat furiously against the window. The rain had penetrated through the dilapidated building, and gave a still more desolate appearance to the miserable apartment.

It was the evening before the battle of Waterloo. A terrible conflict was expected. Many a soldier of Bonaparte's army was fired by the prospect, and waiting with all the impatience of military ardour for morning to arrive.

Not so our young conscripts. They had been torn by the imperial mandate from the bosom of their family, from the culture of the sunny vineyard, from the tranquil and simple pleasures that the paysans of France enjoy, and forced into military duty. There was no struggle for freedom to animate them; no anticipation of better days. Their little village had been desolated by their own countrymen, and their father robbed of his three sons by the most cruel despotism. They could not join in the shout of Vive l'Empereur! for they felt only the effects of his blasting and selfish ambition.

"Our poor father !" said Conrad, striking his hand on the table.

"Our poor sister!" said Philip, while Edward, the youngest, who yet retained the slight form and fair complexion of boyhood, uttered a convulsive sob.

"Cheer up, my boy," said Conrad, "if we must fight, let us fight like men, and die like Christians." At that moment the landlord entered, conducting a soldier.

"Who talks of dying?" exclaimed he, as, full of ani mation and gaiety, he seated himself at the table; then, casting his eyes around, "For shame, landlord," said he,

can you give the defenders of your country no better rations than these? Do you not boast of your generous wines? Bring them forth! Don't stint us of Burgundy and Champagne. Well may these poor fellows talk of dying, when famine and thirst stare them in the face."

The landlord, who had long groaned under the heavy demands of those who had quartered upon him, muttered his dissatisfaction.

"Away!" exclaimed the soldier, "do you not know you have the honour of entertaining Fortunatus himself? Now look! whenever I take off my cap and shake it thus, wealth pours from it:" and several pieces of money actually fell upon the table.

"God bless your honour," exclaimed the landlord; may you often take it off in my house."

"Go, then, poor devil," said the soldier, throwing him a few francs," and bring us the best you can find."

The landlord bowed low and disappeared. "I do in my very soul pity these poor fellows,” said the soldier, turning to his comrades; "they are oppressed by the soldiery, and obliged to entertain and feed them without recompense, and get nothing but curses in return, which it must be acknowledged," said he, again surveying the table, "such fare deserves."

It was not long before things wore a different aspect. The bright and sunny hue of the stranger's mind began to illumine even the dismal room of the alehouse. The landlord spread a much better repast upon the table; and, in honour of Fortunatus, placed a second smoky lamp directly before him. As the light glared upon his youthful and manly countenance, Edward suddenly rose and seized his hand.

"Brothers," said he," this is the very soldier who saved me from disgrace yesterday, when the dragoon stood over me."

"Ah! is it you, my brave fellow ?" exclaimed his protector; it was your mettle that saved you; for if you had not shown that honour was dearer than life, you might have been thrashed like a poltroon for all me. But come!"

added he, filling the glasses round, and not forgetting the obsequious landlord, "we are all a peg too low!"

Glass after glass exhilarated the company, and the eyes of the young conscripts began to sparkle.

"I wish," said Conrad, as he felt his blood warm,

I went heart and hand in this cause."

"that

"Poh!" said the new comer, "it is not for us to reason. We have nothing to do but to fight. Let us drink-Vive l'Empereur!"

"I cannot," said Conrad; "my father is a royalist."

"Well, then," exclaimed a goodnatured soldier, "let us drink to the girl we love best! Come!" said he to Edward, who had filled his glass, "give us her name."

"My sister Alice," replied Edward, with animation.

A shout of laughter from the soldier abashed the youth. "I don't care for any other girl," said he, colouring deeply. "It is true," said Conrad; "he is a mere boy. He has always been brought up with his twin sister Alice."

“But come, Philip," said he, turning with an arch expression to his second brother, "you can help us out."

The blushes of Philip were of a still deeper hue than Edward's. At length, however, in a low voice, he said, "Lucile."

The soldier had narrowly observed him. "By my soul," exclaimed he, “ I believe you have all lived upon mother's

milk, and just escaped from the nursery."

"I hope," said Conrad, proudly," you will see that we do not shrink from our duty to-morrow."

"In the mean time," said the soldier, "let us all drink a bumper to our sister Alice."

The brothers smiled. There was something in the lighthearted, fearless gaiety of the new comer, that animated their own spirits. They soon lost the reserve and awkwardness of strangers, and conversed with ease and freedom.

The father of the conscripts, Jean de Castellon, inhabited a cottage that had descended from sire to son on the mother's side. It was one of those luxuriant spots cultured by the breath of heaven. Yet Jean's labour was not spared. All that patient industry requires to give affluence and utility to natural beauty he had done. His barns opened their vast folding-doors to receive the harvest of autumn; his agricultural utensils were of the best kind, and in the finest order, and no traveller passed without remarking on the taste and neatness of his dwelling.

The death of Jean's wife was the first calamity he had experienced. He was several years older than she, and had been a husband rather after the patriarchal order, than that of modern French gallantry. But though he required great deference, it was willingly paid, and nothing disturbed the harmony of their union. At her death Jean had exercised the paternal care of father and mother in an exemplary manner. His two oldest boys were already able to assist his labours, and Edward and Alice were his constant companions.

Years had passed in this tranquil state, and the father daily felt his cares lightened by the aid of his sons. It was at this period that a detachment of soldiers entered the village for conscripts. Their short stay was marked by plunder, and they bore away in triumph Jean's eldest born, Conrad. The succeeding year Philip was marked out and enlisted as a soldier. Edward still remained; nor did it enter the old man's head that they could rob him of all: but when the decisive battle was to be fought, when the