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SEVEN MARRIAGES.

To smooth the way more effectually to his wishes, he | next brought forward the agreeable intelligence of the rogue Victor's death. It was apparently under the sign manual and seal of the curate who had confessed him, during his last moments, stating how he had fallen sick at a little village, as the curate was passing through;-how he had received sacrament; and how he had died in peace and blessedness shortly afterwards. This account of his decease he, the curate, had been induced to furnish at poor Victor's request, which duty he had discharged after giving him decent interment.

Adeline was again free; and how happy that she was released from so awkward a kind of engagement! Of this the arch-traitor Clermont was soon assured by the manner of his reception; it was no longer difficult to perceive that his artful diffidence and constrained demeanour, had pleaded his cause more effectually than, in such circumstances, his utmost assiduities could have done. The coldness of his manner gradually died away; he began to as sume his real character; every day they grew more and more passionately attached to each other; and Adeline gave him her hand with greater pleasure han she did to ether of her other husbands.

A splendid banquet welcomed the happy pair from the altar; the guests made their appearance; and the afternoon was at length far advanced. "The sound of a carriage was now heard advancing at a smart pace up the street, and it drew up at M. Molinet's door. Ha!" cried the good host; an idle guest, by Our Lady, but he drives briskly

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All eyes were now turned towards the door; it opened; and, to the surprise of all the company, in rushed the deceased Victor, with his drawn sword in his hand, which he pointed with threatening gesture at Clermont: "Up, up, and defend your life!" he cried; at the same time dragging the astonished bridegroom with a firm grasp out of the hall.

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by her third husband-and left to reflect upon her wayward lot alone.

Such a series of unexpected occurrences almost turned the old merchant's head. He began to be alarmed lest they should afford a topic of scandal to the whole city; and after a short consultation with his daughter, he came to the resolution of quitting Paris, and retiring into the country for a short time.

So having settled his affairs, he proceeded, accompanied by his daughter, about eighty leagues into the country, where he purchased an agreeable residence, and spent a whole year, more to his own, than to Adeline's satisfaction. So sudden and striking a contrast was too trying and too solitary, after the loss of three husbands, though she had already almost banished them from her mind. For no one any longer doubted the decease of Captain Alson, her first betrothed; while, in regard to both the others, it was currently reported, and in a short while generally credited, that they had fought a duel, and fallen by each other's hands. Since the night of their strange disappearance, they had neither of them been heard of; until one day, in a wood, at some distance from Paris, two bodies were found dreadfully mangled, and there seemed no longer any doubt of their being the two ill-fated lovers; at least such was the account that reached M. Molinet and his daughter. It was also stated that the bodies had been interred, after remaining above ground until their features were no longer discernible, and no persons coming for ward to lay claim to them.

However, to set the matter at rest, M. Molinet sent for the chief witness who had given evidence on the inquest; and having received from him an account of the persons of the deceased, he found it agree in many points, with his two sons-in-law; a discovery which so greatly delighted him that, in the height of his satisfaction, he cried out: "Aye, the knaves! you describe them to a hair; and both dead and buried, you say?"

With this consolatory assurance, he hastened to his daughter Adeline, and they now began to visit with their neighbours, and see a little more of the world; while they even talked of returning the ensuing winter to Paris. Be fore that period arrived, however, the old gentleman had been again solicited for his consent; his consent for the fourth time! and he gave it with much the same temper as on former occasions; only his daughter was this time to be united to a young nobleman, Baron Marly.

Every guest felt too much terrified at his ghastly appearance to interfere, feeling quite assured that it was wholly supernatural. So that, with the assistance of his servant, Victor had thrust the unlucky bridegroom into his carriage, and driven away with him, before any body had sufficiently recovered his senses to think of a rescue. When arrived at a short distance from the city, Victor called to the coachman to halt, and bursting into a loud laugh, he said, “Well, friend, there are now two knaves instead of one, and one raven must not pull out the other's The marriage ceremony was performed without the eyes. There would be little use in hanging ourselves, if slightest interruption The feast and the dance passed others will save us that trouble, for what we have done. pleasantly away; and the bride-maids were already busied My object in carrying you off, arises from the most disin-in disarraying the fair Adeline of her ornaments and jewterested motives; it will save you a great deal of plague: els: when, as fate would have it, a long and loud resound-for, as you were kind enough to bring me tidings of Al- ing knock was heard at the hall door, enough to throw a son, I have now to inform you that he is actually in Paris, nervous parent into fits. It was just midnight too; yet one and would speedily have fallen upon you like a thunder of the footmen had courage enough to open the door; and bolt, and sacrificed both his wife and you to his fury. We in stept a shabby drest man with a wooden leg; and limp. have both of us the best reason in the world for keeping ing as fast as he could along the hall, begged to be allowed out of his way; for he is already half-witted from the effect an interview with the host. of his Indian adventures, and being fattened, during the course of a whole month for the chief's table."

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The servant grinned at him over his shoulder, and said that it would be better to postpone it to the following day. 'No, my good friend, it will not," replied the stranger; my affair will admit of no delay. I must see your master this moment."

"I wish he had eaten him, then," exclaimed Clermont, in very ill-humour; "the fellow must have as many lives": as a cat."

"So it seems! but we must wait patiently till the affair has blown over; and meanwhile seek some safe retreat, in a corner of the kingdom, and near a sea port, in case the madman should run desperate, and proceed to extremities against us."

But the man only stared and shook his head, as if in contempt of his request. Upon this, the stranger flying into a passion, raised his crutch. Go, thou base varlet, or I will break every bone in thy skin!" and the footman ran to acquaint his master with this very unseasonable visit.

M. Molinet made his appearance in his night-gown and slippers. With a presentiment of something wrong, he looked the stranger sharply in the face, as he limped towards him, with a black patch over his left eye, and a great plaster on the other cheek. The good old host uttered an exclamation of alarm at the very sight of him.

Now this was all a fresh tissue of lies, invented by Victor to revenge himself. So far from being in Paris, Alson had been taken prisoner during his voyage home, and was now passing his time in England. Having given out that he had left France under an assumed name. Victor, after parting with his rival, had returned; and kept a watchful eye upon all his proceedings. In order more effectually to "Who are you, Sir?" he inquired in a subdued and quiscreen himself, and to get his rival completely into his vering tone: "and what is your pleasure with me?" power, he permitted him to accept the hand of Adeline; "Alas! don't you know me," sighed the stranger; and then seized upon him in the manner that has just been "don't you know your own son-in law. Alson ?" related. Clermont easily fell into the snare; and no longer Poor M. Molinet stared back several yards at one ventured to think of retracing his steps to Paris, when he bound; raised up his hands in perfect wonder; and then believed that Alson, whom he had disposed of in so sum-called out to a servant at some distance rom them: "For mary a manner, had again appeared on the scene of action. God's sake run,-call my daughter and her husband; and Half stupified with the news, he suffered himself to be make haste,-make haste!" rolled away, as he had been taken, in his rich bridal ap-1 parel, without hat or gloves, and arrayed from head to foot in silk; while the lovely Adeline was thus deserted

"Nay, I am already here, father," observed the onelegged man.

"Oh, unhappy wretches as we all are!" cried the poor

distracted father of so many sons, pacing backwards and forwards, and looking ruefully up the staircase, to see whether they would ever come.

Baron Marly first made his appearance, attired in a rich and elegant undress; looking as proud and glorious as Mars himself, just before he was caught with the lovely wife of ugly limping Vulcan: who could scarcely have cut a more sorry figure than the one-legged man now did. The Baron could not help smiling at the stranger, as he

said:

"What are your commands with me, father? I was just this moment retiring for the night."

"But I will take care that you never shall," cried the lame man; at the same time striking his crutch in most threatening style upon the ground.

"Is the fellow out of his senses?" returned the Baron, with a glance of contempt.

Poor M. Molinet was now quite beside himself. He trembled sadly, at the necessity he was under of introducing the gentlemen to one another, on this occasion. He did it, but it was with a very ill grace.

"Fine doings, indeed!" exclaimed the crutchman, again stamping his wooden leg, more fiercely than before, upon the ground. "It is lucky, however, that I am arrived in time to prevent this Baron from casting a stain upon my honour, and that of my family. You will please, father, to show him to the very farthest chamber from my wife's and mine, that you can find in the house; I shall keep strict watch on the outside."

Just at this moment one of Adeline's maids came running, to say that her young mistress had fallen into fits. She had heard the uproar; and insisted upon being instantly attired, in order to arrive in time to prevent any fatal consequences-having already lost two husbands, who had fallen a sacrifice to their mutual fury; but such was the tumult of her emotions, that she fainted in the bridemaid's arms.

Greatly concerned at this event, the cripple bridegroom observed, that had he not unluckily been so shabbily dressed, and altogether cut so dismal and forbidding a figure, with the patches on his wounds, and his wooden leg-which might perhaps frighten her into fits again as she was recovering nothing should keep him from her presence. "Besides my crutch makes such a plaguy loud noise in walking, she might imagine some kobold or housegoblin was coming into her chamber. Such things she must get used to by degrees; so my good girl, I must be content with thy recommending me most affectionately to thy sweet mistress, and here is my father-in-law will go along with you."

Poor M. Molinet, quite puzzled what to think or what to do, suffered himself to be led, like a man walking in his sleep, into his daughter's chamber; while his son-in-law walked another way into his own.

At this moment, the Baron's servants having packed up his wardrobe, and brought the coach, he was heard giving his orders respecting these two most important and favour ite subjects of his thoughts; and then he rattled off along the pavement; in all the offended, yet newly recovered, dig

At these words, Baron Marly instantly mounted his high horse of noble blood, and replied, with an air of dis-nity of his ancient house. dain: "Night watches, my good fellow, do not seem very well adapted to your present crippled condition, and 1 will spare you that trouble. As matters turn out, you are quite welcome to your first bargain, with all the manorial rights and appurtenances thereto belonging. In fact, I shall be happy to make the transfer; by which you will help me to untie a knot, which I was beginning to fear might chance to be tied too tight. For my part, I am a friend to freedom: and there are some of my relations at court, who will not be sorry to hear of what has happened, for truly I have had very little peace since my alliance with this very worthy family, because they imagined that henceforward I was about to unite myself with that less shining, but useful class of honest citizens. They solemnly declared that my marriage had raised an eternal barrier between me and them: between the city and the court; and that they knew how to respect their own station, if I did not. This was a sad blow in the face of my escutcheon: and I should, doubtless, soon have died of mortification, had not this lucky incident restored me to my injured nobility and pride. This somewhat consoles me for the personal loss of a lady, for whom I entertained the greatest tenderness and esteem. But I am no senti: mental worshipper of sighs and tears. I entreat you, therefore, my dear M. Molinet, to break this little matter to your daughter-to present her with my parting regards, and wish her all happiness and good fortune. So farewell, gentlemen; if you have any coinmands to Paris, I shall feel most happy to be the bearer. There I shall take out So he stationed himself at the head of the stairs, and a formal divorce, and so the matter rests." With an air of called out to the man, from time to time, "Now, John, is lordly nonchalance, he turned upon his heel, and left his he asleep?" No, Sir!" "Is he awake?" "No, Sir!" father-in-law, lost in astonishment at the strange situation" What, is he dead, then?" "Oh no, Sir, he is only gone in which he stood. -at least I cannot find him." "Gone" repeated the merchant advancing a little more boldly, "What, crutch, and leg, and all?" "No, Sir; his leg is here; only it is nothing but a cork!" Nothing but a cork," repeated the old merchant, “then I dare say he must have a stock of them, and it is that, perhaps, which makes him so light a foot. The scoundrel:-the base deserter! to think of running away from his own wife and father, the very morning af ter returning to them. Surely I am bewitched, or this is all a dream. It cannot be: I am perhaps too hard upon him to suspect him; he has, perhaps, only got up in the night, and gone into the garden: and then been unable to find his way back into the right room. Do you run into the garden, John, and I will examine the other bed-rooms: he must be somewhere he cannot be gone: call Adeline, call all the women, and the mea, and the children, about the place; bid them look sharp every where--he cannot be gone."

Adeline, on her side, again passed a lonely night, on the very day of her foarth nuptials; besides being half frightened to death.

On the morrow of this eventful evening, M. Molinet's household was early in motion. The good host himself began at length to console himself with the idea, that even a wooden-legged son-in-law was preferable to none, and hastened down stairs with a fixed determination to welcome him in a hearty and hospitable style. The latter, however seemed to think more of a good night's rest, than rising at an early hour to reclaim the hand of his beautiful betrothed. The clock had already struck nine: breakfast was waiting; yet the sluggard showed no signs of appearance. He had not even rung his bell; and the old merchant, beginning to feel impatient for his first meal, waited and grumbled; until, declaring that he must be one of the seven sleepers, he ordered one of the servants to knock, and to knock hard, at his door; for it was now near eleven o'clock, and the old gentleman, in momentary dread of an attack of his spasms, was fast helping himself to whatever came nearest to him. Before he had half done, however, the lacquey came to inform him that he had knocked repeatedly at the lame gentleman's door, but had received no answer.

"Nay, let the nimble puppy run," cried the man with the crutch; and cheer up, old gentleman, yon see you have got me quite safe; I wish I could add quite sound; but any how safe home again. True, I am a bit of a cripple-but what of that?-1 am none of your noble impostors- am Alson, your honourable son-in-law. I hope Adeline will not think the worse of me; though, I confess I do not much relish the thought of our first interview: better perhaps to put it off until to-morrow. You will thus have time to reconcile her to the change of partners; but, as you seem rather weary and nervous, you had bet ter yourself retire to rest, and let me, likewise, be shown to a chamber. To-morrow I will amuse Adeline and you with some account of my adventures in America. You will be much astonished, if not entertained; but for tonight, dear father, not a word more-let us get a little rest." M. Molinet, like one half moon-stricken, tottered out of the room; he replied not a word; and his son was obliged to shake him well by the shoulders and stamp his wooden leg, before he could make him comprehend that he wanted to be shown to his chamber.

His master shook his head wistfully, and, ordering the servant to walk first, followed him up stairs, and bade him enter the room; not liking the risk of receiving any farther shock, added to that of the former fright.

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There was soon a general muster; and the house was searched from top to bottom; but he was neither in the garret nor the cellar: the new son-in-law was gone! At length, when it came to the old porter's turn to be exa

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GILLES."

mined, who kept the lodge gates, and just then came hob | no St. George, and feel no inclination to run a tilt with the bing up, he declared that about day-break a lame, ill-monster; very willingly making room for the sixth fool, Loured kind of man, with black patches on his cheeks, as I am told, who takes a fancy for such an adventure. most like a broken-down soldier, had ordered him to unbar the gate, as he was going to see after some of his lugage which was left at the next inn, but he said nothing about coming back.

With this gleam of hope M. Molinet despatched a messenger to the place, but no person answering the porter's description had been there.

The lovely Adeline sat pale and weeping in her cham ber: until this trying moment she had borne her strange adventures and vicissitudes with the sweet temper and patience of an angel; but this was too much. There was no affectation in her sufferings; her tears and sighs were genuine; for she had really loved Alson-he was her first choice, and she sank overpowered with grief, on learning this his second and more cruel loss.

Her father, little less affected at witnessing her grief, retired with downcast looks, and full of perplexing thoughts, to devise some method of proceeding, to his own chamber. The reader, however, shall not be left in the same dilemma; but shall forthwith be introduced behind the curtain of the mystery; as here follows:-In the first place he need hardly be informed, that these two arch hypocrites and impostors, Victor and Clermont, were still in existence. In truth, they were far too interested and notorious villains to think of sparing the criminal law any trouble by honestly knocking one another's brains out; and in fact were on the best terms, for persons of their stamp. As fortune, too, would have it, M. Molinet, in re tiring to the country, had settled not far from the place of their retreat, which they kept as secret as possible; no 1 from fear of Alson's return, than from that of being brought to account for having deserted their military dutes. They were, likewise, enabled, from this spot, to observe the proceedings of M. Molinet, their father-in-law, and to learn whether the affair had at all subsided.

M. Molinet tore this precious epistle in a great rage; then ordered his carriage to the door, and taking his daughter along with him, ordered them to drive quick towards Paris. He left a letter behind him for his son-in-law, summoning him to appear and answer for his conduct; but this he never did; and consequently the marriage was annulled. But, in the course of this affair, an aged advocate became so deeply smitten with Adeline's charms, as to be quite unable to devote himself longer to his profession, without his fair client's consent and assistance. The lady, however, would certainly have refused it, had not her father, an old friend of the lawyer's, kindly stepped in to second the plea; and she was, at last, overpersuaded to yield her hand.

This time the ceremony was performed in as private a manner as possible. Only a few persons were aware that it was about to take place, and the domestics were in perfect ignorance of it until all was concluded. The suppertable had been removed, and the happy old bridegroom was just thinking of moving after it, when the waiter entered, and announced-the Marquis Gilles!

What a thunder-bolt of surprise for the whole party! M. Molinet alone had presence of mind to cry out: "Let the Marquis go to the Devil! tell him we have nothing to say to each other."

But the noble Marquis was already in the room: "First, my dear father," he said, "do me the justice to hear my defence, and send me there afterwards. On the eventful night of my marriage, I was seized by robbers in my own court, and kidnapped blindfolded into a carriage, which proceeded the whole night. When it stopped, I was conducted into a place up steps, and down steps, until they took the bandage from my eyes;-of very little service to me, in a dark room, with iron door and windows. Here the villains compelled me, by dint of threatening my life, to indite that false and wicked epistle to my beloved Adeline, but which procured me better treatment, and, perhaps, saved my life. Shortly afterwards they promised to release me, which they only did, however, within these last few hours. Yesterday they again blindfolded me; brought me out of the labyrinth: and conveyed me in a carriage to this very neighbourhood. Bidding me alight in some fields, they said to me: "That is your road to Paris; put your best foot foremost, and try to reach it beAbout the period that Baron Marly forwarded a copy fore nightfall; for your young bride is celebrating her of his divorce to his father-in-law, the latter became aware nuptials to-day with an old Parliament Advocate. So make of the species of imposture that had been practised upon haste, or you will have no chance of avoiding the honours him, owing to the recognition and the subsequent confes-that are in store for you." They then directed me to this sion of the rogueish mendicant himself. Still he did not house; and, before I had time to recover from my astonbetray his employers, and M. Molinet, supposing them to ishment, they dragged me out of the carriage, and drove he deceased, was now more at a loss than ever what to me with bitter mocks and gibings from their presence." conjecture on the subject.

The report of the fourth marriage acted like poison upon their jealous and revengeful feelings; and not venturing, from a sense of mutual safety, to wreak them upon each other, they swore to prevent any other person availing himself of any advantage which they had forfeited them selves. With this view, they pitched upon a wily young mendicant, who in some degree resembled Alson, and who could assume any character, and, equipping him in the manner already stated, their base stratagem turned out completely successful.

Adeline, on her part, seemed inclined to make no far-" ther adventures in the matrimonial lottery; while her father was more intent than ever upon finding a real and bona fide son-in-law. Suitors again began to make their ap: pearance, and he allowed her no peace, until she agreed to make a fresh choice, for the fifth time, in the person of the Marquis Gilles.

The marriage ceremony was fixed to take place at a country seat at some distance, belonging to the new bridegroom. Every thing appeared to be in a good train; the day, the dinner, and the dance were all happily concluded. M. Molinet had himself seen to the security of all the doors and windows, and given orders to admit no more guests after the hour, be they who they would.

The house was just beginning to settle to rest, when, hornble to relate, a cry of fire was heard, and the room next the bridal chamber was found to be in flames. The Marquis ran down stairs half undrest, and disappeared through the front door. The fire was fortunately got under, but the bridegroom was no longer to be seen. What had befallen him no one knew; his destiny remained a secret; and all that could be gathered was, that some Countrymen had beheld a carriage driving with great rapidity from the castle.

Two days of grievous anxiety elapsed, when a courier made his appearance with the following letter, and after its delivery instantly galloped away :

Madam,-Your bridals are surely bewitched, and some dragon guards the entrance of the bridal chamber. I am

A fine romantic history," exclaimed the old Advocate but, my Lord Marquis, who will bear witness to all this? Besides, if you could, what would that help you? Your former marriage with my present bride, Sir, has been formally revoked, rescinded, cancelled, and annulled."

I know nothing of your quirks of law; and I should be a fool to contend with you; 1 will put it into the hands of some skilful expounder of justice like yourself. My present object in coming here, is loudly to protest, once for all, against your presuming to usurp my place; for I neither can nor will listen to it."

"Good," replied the Advocate; "and that you likewise shall not venture to sport upon my manor, Marquis, I hereby appeal to the sovereign fount of justice, to his Majesty the King."

"A most servile appeal;" exclaimed the Marquis.

"And, moreover," continued the lawyer," my wife shall be entrusted, as a sacred deposit, until the decision of the case, into the hands of her father. I will soon get your bill of divorce confirmed."

The noble Marquis expressed himself satisfied with these terms. Both the litigants then took leave of their father-in-law, and left his house in company with his other guests. The poor merchant, in the bitterness of his feelings, pronounced his malediction upon the whole tribe of suitors, sons-in-law, and husbands in the world. He had not the least idea, however, that two of them had set fire to the mansion of the third, and also abducted the unfor tunate Marquis from his bridal chamber. Such information would doubtless have driven him stark mad; for

hard as the case was, he had not the least idea that he was now the father of six sons-in-law, while his only daughter remained without a husband. Yet such a strange fatality had fortune, in the variety of her vagaries, produced; though she spared the unlucky old gentleman the additional torment of hearing that so many of his sons were still alive. The two traitors, his second and third sons, instantly fled from the country, after the success of their last exploit, leaving the young Marquis and the old decayed barrister to settle their differences as they pleased. They forthwith proceeded to try the question of e thoro et mensa, as respected the rich old merchant's daughter; but the cause, from one reason or other, was protracted so long, that the old advocate died before the conclusion; an event which was hailed with singular pleasure by the young Marquis. Finding that the aged barrister was too impatient to await the result of the trial, the Marquis, on his side, began to sue for a restoration of conjugal rights, but met with unexpected difficulties from the young lady, no less than from her father. They refused to give credit to the story of his abduction, and declared that he had meant to insult the family, in order to afford grounds for future separation; as he had before pleased himself by taking French leave of them, he might this time take him self off again in order to please them.

The sighing shepherd, shocked at this reception, pleaded his perfect innocence of the charge, invoking all the saints to bear witness to the truth of his assertion. But the young lady was inexorable, declaring that she would rather die than think of receiving so ungallant a swain, who had once so basely deserted her.

So the Marquis went to take the opinion of counsel; whose first question was: "whether he could procure any witness or witnesses to his forcible abduction?"-He re plied in the negative, and the lawyers shrugged up their shoulders, and advised him to think of proceeding no farther with such a case in a legal form. The same opinion seemed to be entertained by all his lordship's friends. They attempted to impress upon him how unbecoming his dignity it was, to sigh and languish for the daughter of a citizen, who rewarded him only with indifference and contempt. His pride took the alarm; and, shifting his affection for Adeline as he could, he disposed of his possessions in France, and set off in a great huff on a tour into Spain.

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"I am an unfortunate being," murmured the stranz "betrayed by false friends; don't you recognize me?” No, Sir," said M. Molinet: as the wedded pair we hurrying him up the steps; "I know nobody now." "What," replied the stranger," have my long sufferin so completely metamorphosed me?-Are you a strang to me, Adeline? not recognised by my own wife! M first and only love, I am Alson!"

Just Heavens" cried the bride," surely that voiceAway with you!" exclaimed M. Molinet; "do not l ten to him, girl! he is only an impostor. Take her awa my dear son-in-law, and follow my advice." At the sar time, M. Molinet pushed the young Hussar and his daug ter before him into the house.

The stranger here clapped his hand upon his sword, a confronting his rival: Not a step farther, on your li Sir. Would you be guilty of eloping with my wife befo my eyes?"

With enraged looks, the Hussar drew his broadswor but Adeline arrested his arm. "No bloodshed," she cric with entreating accents, "for that man is Alson. My fi and best beloved! my eye indeed can scarcely recogni you, but my heart speaks the truth too feelingly--it is yo Yet I have already been so vilely deceived in this matte that I am become suspicious of every one; I must, ther fore, insist upon receiving still more positive proofs of yo existence, than your mere appearance will afford; n deem it want of affection that dictates our separation un the period when these can be adduced. Believe me, I i dulge not the least suspicion; but I owe thus much to u own character, and to the world. When once I am happ enough to be pronounced yours, lawfully yours, I w most joyfully give you my hand, and live and die with y alone."

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Adeline then retired weeping into her cham' er. young Hussar left the place with a bitter curse; and ↑ Molinet, with his eyes fixed in mute and perplexed dism: upon the features of Alson, after some cogitatin, and tal ing with himself, at length reached out his hand, sayin

The longer I puzzle myself with your face and figu the more I seem to recollect somebody very like you but I think it must have been in some other world. I that, however, as it may, you are heartily welcome, n boy; my poor son Alson: and forgive me for giving yo so rude a reception, and for having you sent, so soon aft your marriage, abroad. I had no idea you would stay long."

Alson, for in fact it was no one else, had no very gre ordeal to undergo, before he succeeded in establishi proofs of his identity. Wherever he appeared, the reser blance between him and his former self became more ai more apparent, on slight examination.

How must we account, however, for the surprising coolness and cruelty, evinced towards him by Adeline, unless we believe her to have been quite of a heartless, jilting dis position, and the most variable of her sex? There was something, indeed, in this; but it must, at the same time be observed in her praise, that she had never been seri ously attached to any of her six husbands, except the first, having yielded her hand more in compliance with her fa ther's wishes, and a transitory feeling of regard, than from sentiments of esteem and love. Besides, in regard to the Marquis, her recollections were soon effaced by the appearance of a rival, a very handsome young officer of Hussars, which made her more anxious than before to break off her engagements with the former. On this occasion, her father had less difficulty than on any of the preceding, in persuading her to listen to the young man's vows; and she accepted him with the same dutiful sentiments associety; and had not the poor broken-down soldier di heretofore.

Previous to the ceremony, the good old merchant took his future son-in-law aside: "You are aware, my friend, that you are only following in the wake of six other lovers, who are most of them now deceased. Theirs has been a strange fate, and I imagine they must all have been be witched. If you are bent upon running the same risk, and will not be advised to think better of it, there is one little piece of advice which I shall give you, and which may perhaps serve to counteract the charm. All manoeuvres, you know, are lawful in love and war; and, after you come from church, I would have you never once lose sight of your bride, until you have secured her for your own."

Adeline was conducted from the altar, between her father and her seventh husband, and was just proceeding up the steps into the house. Suddenly hasty footsteps were heard behind them, and some one inquired for M. Molinet. Upon turning round, the bridal party beheld a pale, haggard young man, in an officer's faded uniform, who stood looking at them, supported upon a crutch.

Who inquires for me," said M. Molinet, trembling in every limb as he spoke: "who are you? what is siness with me?"

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The strange history of his capture and his subseque adventures, and final release, are reserved for the car Adeline; and would, perhaps, appear tedious to any o else. By her he was received with unaffected tendernes and they had the pleasure of being twice manied to ea other, the old gentleman insisting upon a repetition of t ceremony after so long an absence; and it was the on real marriage out of seven, or rather eight.

They were now truly happy and blest with each othe

about a month after the ceremony, their happiness mig have continued much longer. Adeline lamented him w true widow's tears; yet, after wearing her weeds awhi being of a somewhat volatile and easy temper, she si fered the handsome young Hussar to come and wi away her tears.

She consented to become his, as usual, at her fathe request; and she was too sweet-tempered and gentle, lo to have resisted the request of any one who bespoke h kindly. They lived very happily together, though s had wed seven husbands in about the space of six years: and she spent about half a century with her last consort

PASSION.

How terrible is passion! how our reason

Falls down before it! whilst the tortured frame
Like a ship dashed by fierce encountering tides
And of her pilot spoiled, drives round and round,
The sport of wind and wave.-BARFORD.

THE DAYS OF YOUTH.

Written for the Casket.

THE DAYS OF YOUTH.

Ah! well do I remember when

Life seemed as bright as evening skies,
While thro' the glittering glade and glen
I grasp'd at pleasure's butterflies.

My path was strown with sweetest flowers;
I stray'd thro' childhood's blooming bowers,
Admiring, yet not knowing why,

The wonders that had won my eye;
And thinking life would always be
The same it then appeared to me:
Nor dreampt that time could ever find
So great a change in manhood's mind-
A change in all that childhood's eye
Fursuxi, save pleasure's butterfly.
Even as the morning's blushes bright,
Vanish before the advance of day;
Or even as summer's footsteps bright,
Trip o'er the flowers of fading May-
So in the path of infancy

Comes boyhood with his laughing glee.
la memory's mirror oft I view

The pranks of boyhood, and renew

The scenes long past, when-'twas a rule-
I was the first one flog'd at school:
When paper balls were made to fly
With goodly aim at Master's eye,
Who was upon his dinner sleeping,
With one eye still awake for peeping.
The object was to close it, lest

It should be witness 'gainst the pest.

Each face is now before my view,
As I beheld it there;

Each boy, and desk, and master too,
And little damsel fair.

The fairy one by whom I sat,
Thro' all the afternoon to chat
And laugh the idle hours away.

At all 'twas said, or we could say;

While Tom, and Jack, and Bill were tussling,
And Dick and Dave were busy hustling;
And Josh and Harry tap'd the hat-
First on this side and then on that,
Striving to cross the pins that there lay,
Whether 'twas fair or done unfairly,
While Master Grizzle snored away
The enormous dinner of that day.
But where are all the youths I knew,
The gabbling throng, the social few
With whom I wander'd then:
Alas' some of those jovial boys,
So full of frolic, fun and noise,

Are melancholy men.

Some who were once of wealthy race,
Have now grown poor, nor longer grace
The station which they once might fill-
A lot of all severest still.

And some who once I saw in rags,
Now boast of birth and money bags:
Some have done right and some done wrong,
And some are now the sons of song,
Singing away like Musa's parrot,
In some lone elevated garret.

But few remain of all I knew;
Some sleep in death, and not a few
Have gone to foreign lands, to roam
For fortune, long denied at home;
While still a few remain to be
Mementoes of my infancy-

The landmarks of my progress on

To manhood from the days by-gone.
Where are the little damsels gay,

Whom once I knew at school;
With whom I laugh'd the hours away,
And play'd the loving-fool.

And where is she whom I admired,
Who first my youthful song inspired:
Alas! her blissful, blooming charms
Have blessed another's anxious arms.
Her daughter often dashes by
The window of my garret high,
And throws the same delightful glances
Her mother used to in our dances;
And seems as pleased with recognition,
As was her Ma in her condition.
And many more are mothers now:
Some carry care upon their brow-
Some have a cruel husband wed,
And found their fortune quickly sped;
Themselves and children begging bread
Of those their bounty once had fed.
And some have risen from penury
To opulence and luxury,
Evincing how precarious are

The fate and fortunes of the fair.
How many thus in wealth have marry'd,
And found it to the gambler carry'd;
And others too, alas! how many
Have given their last unhappy penny,
To spend in midnight revels long,
Or pay the tribute of a song.
Of all those little girls I knew,
There still indeed remain a few,
Yelep'd old maids, because, forsooth,
They would not marry a fool in youth;
And I am left-pray, sir, what for-
Merely to live a bachelor,

Tho' young in years, and younger still
In the heart's wishes and the will.

TO M.

Thou said'st that thou

23

MILFORD BARD.

Would'st love me, and forever, and my heart Unconscious, dreamt not that we e'er must part ¡ Where art thou now?

I could have breath'd

My latest sigh, my dying prayer for thee. Nor murmur'd at my fate--but thus to be

By thee deceiv'd.

'Tis well, 'tis well!

These charms once loved are fleeting fast away; This heart--it cannot curse, but only say Farewell!-farewell!

But yet, should e'er

Thy foetsteps stray to where this form is laid, Think of her whose fond heart thou'st betrayed;

Give me one tear.

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