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on the floor of the cavern. And now, fair mistress,' he said, will I show you how Sir Aymer wooes; I remember your words of jest and scorn, your mockery at the bluntness of my speech, and my insensibility of the melody of verse, and the harmony of music, when you danced so gaily with the Dacres and Selbys, and the hall rung with laughter at me.' And sheathing his sword he stepped close to where she stood, and offered to take her in his

arms.

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"With dilated eyes, and hair which seemed moving with horror, and with a shuddering frame, Beatrice gazed on him for a moment. Villain,' she said, ⚫ye know not the might of woman's heroic hate; ye have never learned to look on her with reverence or with awe; but learn it now; in the weakest virgin of my father s house there is a courage that scorns ye and defies ye. Dare but to touch me, and if heaven's fire, which now makes this cavern as bright as noon, strike ye not to the earth, a hand ye dread not shall work God's work.' And she put her hand in her bosom, and drawing out a dagger, said, Sir Aymer, see, this lay in my bosom when I was among pirates; with this the weak is mighty, and woman is equal with man. Another step, and time has done with one of us.' Sir Aymer laughed, and looked on her for a moment; his frame shook, and his brow darkened, but grim as his looks grew, he still smiled, and he sprung towards her like a beast of prey springing on a deer. Minion,' he said, ye have drawn blood: my revenge shall be but a harmless kiss." And the dagger, as he threw it away, rung against the side of the cavern. She called on God and she called on her love, and her cries of deep and terrible despair were not uttered in vain.

"The storm had now subsided; the moon streamed out from among the disparting clouds, and the plash of the thunder-rain and the howling of the wind had ceased. A boat pushed sud

denly ashore; hasty words and heavy blows, and death groans were heard; and with the rapidity of light an armed figure came; a heron plume was in his helmet, a sword was gleaming in his hand, and that light which heroism and a sense of deep wrong kindle, was burning in his eyes. It was Sir Hugh Heron. He struck Sir Aymer with the side of his sword, and said, Turn, thou only faithless knight of my name; turn, and draw, else I strike ye dead where ye stand.' And Sir Aymer drew his sword, and said, I have longed to wet my sword with thee in this quarrel; and I will wet it in thy heart,' and he made a blow, and there was a sore strife between them. When Beatrice beheld her lover, she fell on her knees, and held up her hands in prayer: she knelt so near, that the blood which the sword drew was sprinkled on her white hands and on her pale cheeks. She closed her eyes, and heard for a time the sound of swords, and the moving to and fro of hurried feet; they were a moment mute, and then the combat grew more fierce than ever. At length Sir Aymer fell pierced through and through, and while he lay in the agonies of death, Beatrice threw herself on her lover's He

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bosom, and sobbed out his name. sheathed his sword and kissed her forehead and her lips, and said, My love, my love, I learned thy danger in a far land, and the first voice I heard when the storm drove our boat into this little

lovely bay, was thine calling on God and Hugh Heron.'"

Here I made a pause in my narrative, and my companion, who had maintained silence much longer than I expected, looked on me and exclaimed, "Call ye that the Tale of Hugh Heron? The best of the story is to come, and will ye stop when the danger is over, and the mirth, and the minstrels, and the bridal lights are coming? Ye have not said how his mother came and fell on the neck of her son,-how the body of Sir Aymer was borne into the shrine of our dy, that the vision which Sir Hugh

saw might be fulfilled; and the stains of his blood are in the marble floor to this day. And if ye scorn bridal mirth, will ye not tell how many masses were daily said for the repose of the slain

man's soul,--and how many stately sons and fair daughters blessed the marriage of Hugh Heron and the fair maid of Moffatdale ?-never tell a story

more.

THE BLACK GOAT OF BRANDENBURG.

sorcerer,

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A FRAGMENT.

Nothing," exclaimed the "but the immolation of a perfect goat, without a single hair about him that is not black, will propitiate my master, and secure the great object for which we have so deeply laboured."

The provinces of Russia, and the countries of Poland and Lithuania were traversed in search of this precious animal, which De Kleist and his companions at length obtained for the value of its weight in gold. The Black Goat was laid at the feet of their exorcist; who now proceeded to accomplish his purpose of compelling Lucifer to reveal the secret places where all the treasures were buried that in former times had disappeared from Germany.

At midnight, on a heath near Berlin, and under the gibbet of a newly hung

murderer, these fanatics assembled, with their conductor, to witness the consummation of this unholy work. The struggling goat was slaughtered in the most barbarous manner, and single drops of its blood, wrung out in the agonies of death, were sprinkled upon De Kleist and each of his followers. The carcase then crackled in the flames of a red fire that burnt before him, and hymns of impious adoration were chanted to the deity of Hell. These rites continued till dawn, when they were broken in upon by a party of police; and though the infatuated assistants at this scene were permitted to escape, its principal, the sorcerer, was dragged away to confinement, and perished in the dungeons of Spandau.

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THE troubles which agitated the continent of Europe on the death of Charles the Sixth, emperor of Germany, the last male heir of the ancient and illustrious house of Hapsburg, in consequence of the disputed succession to his hereditary dominions, and the contest for obtaining his elective honours, are well known to all the world.

The states of Hungary, it is equally well known, were on this occasion assembled at Presburg, on the summons of their new queen, the celebrated Maria Theresa, when she made her ever-memorable appeal to the spirit and gallantry of her countrymen in behalf of herself and her infant son, presenting the latter, whom she carried in her arms, before them. These public events are well known; they furnished abundant topics of conversation and discussion at the time, not only in the town of Presburg, but over all Europe; they have afforded ample matter for the pen of the

historian to expatiate upon, and will ever form a remarkable epoch in the annals of our continent. The town of Presburg was almost equally occupied, at this period by some events of a private nature, but perhaps in their way scarcely less remarkable.

A large number of troops were of course assembled in the town, nor was there an inn which was not almost entirely occupied by them. The most distinguished inn was a large edifice-in the Gothic style of building round a spacious court. Along the principal side of the quadrangle ran a corridor, at the end of which was a large room with a vaulted roof appearing to have been once destined for a chapel. On one side of this room was an immense fireplace capable of making a noble blazing fire in the ungenial days of winter. This inn being full of troops, the officers made use of the large room in question as a mess-room, and commonly passed

their evenings there together round the chimney, enjoying the crackling of the blazing wood, canvassing over the interesting events then going forwards, and drinking in the true spirit of chivalrous gallantry, to the health and prosperity of their young and lovely queen.

They were sitting thus together one evening, when the conversation having taken a very interesting turn-as most people will agree when they know that awful histories of spectres and other supernatural appearances was the theme, -thus occupied they thought not of the time, and the midnight clock struck while they were in the midst of some tale of terror, nor thinking of separating to their respective couches for the night.

While the sound of the twelfth stroke yet vibrated on the great bell of the city clock, the door of the room opened, and an officer in the Austrian uniform entered, having his hat drawn very much over his face, his arms folded, and his eyes bent to the ground. The door closed again without its being touched by him, and he proceeded to walk slowly and solemnly along the room, making directly towards another door at the opposite end of it. The whole company, astonished at so unaccountable an intrusion, had their eyes instantly turned to him; but he continued his way with his head bent to the ground, nor were his looks once directed towards the assembled company.

"Heavens!" said one of the officers, starting from his seat, " Count Molziewitz!-I thought you had been at this moment with Khevenhuller's army?" -and he was making towards him with his hand stretched out to offer him in token of friendship: but the officer continued on his way without noticing him, and going out at the other door of the

room, was seen no more.

The company looked at each other, while the utmost astonishment was impressed on their countenances, and an awful silence of some moments ensued. At length the officer, (Baron Kiezerhausen by name,) who thought he had

recognized in the mysterious stranger a friend well known to him, said, “What can this mean?-'tis Molziewitz assuredly! I must follow and question him whence this unaccountable intrusion upon us, whence the air of mystery with which the whole transaction is attended?" and he was advancing towards the door at which the Count had made his exit.

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Nay," said Frederick von Zindendorf, another of the officers," you shall not go, it were fool-hardiness."

"Fool-hardiness! What do you mean?" said Kiezerhausen; "I hope you don't think that I am so easily daunted!"-Yet his countenance expressed considerable doubts as to the safety of such a movement; and though he remained upon his legs, neither of them stirred for the execution of his purpose.

"Mean?" said Zinzendorf:-"There might be nothing in the Count under his living corporeal form to daunt you,but this figure-"

"Well, this figure," said Kiezerhausen; "I am sure 'tis Molziewitz."

"Aye, but are you sure that Molziewitz is still alive?"

"Pshaw!-We have been talking of ghosts and spectres till your heated imagination is possessing itself with the whimsical notion that we have had a visit from a ghost.-But let me observe, that a ghost, according to all the established forms of the incorporeal world, must have appeared in his winding-sheet, not in a full-dressed uniform."

"Nay, pardon me," said Augustus von Birkenthal," if the body be not "if yet buried, how should the spirit appear in a winding-sheet ?-Of course, while uninterred-"

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Upon my word," said Kiezerhausen, you are very learned in these matters; it should seem as if this were not the first time-"

"Whether first or not," said Birkenthal," I should think it quite as well not to treat the subject with so much levity."

"The appearance is indeed unaccountable," said Henry von Wingerode; "but shall soldiers be afraid? No, let us follow and investigate the matter. I suspect some cheat, some 'vile imposture, and perhaps for some very vile purpose. Our enemies know that Hungarians are not to be daunted in the field-who can say what weapons they may not be endeavouring to employ against us?-We have been talking of supernatural appearances, such at least as are so reputed, till we have almost persuaded ourselves to believe in them, and to consider this as one. But away with such folly; let us all go together, and search to the bottom of the matter. The room into which that door leads is, as you all know, my apartment; there is no other exit from it but that one door; the impostor, for such I am persuaded he is, cannot have made his escape; let us drag him from his lurking hole, and force him to confess the motive which has led to this unaccountable attempt at terrifying us."

The rest of the company looked at each other. "Wingerode is in the right," said one; 'tis unmanly to be thus alarmed. Away with our terrors, and let the room be instantly searched." Yet he stirred not.

"Who told you that we were alarmed?" said another. "I am sure that I am not away then to the search. Wingerode, since 'tis your apartment, you will lead the way." At the same time he reached his hand to his sword; yet trembled so that he could not draw it, while his knees knocked together as a token of his bravery.

Kiezerhausen sat musing :-" Is the Count then," he said, indeed no more? But come come, let us search the room :"-and he advanced towards the door, followed by the rest.

The apartment was now strictly searched; but no trace whatever was to be found of any person, nor did any thing appear which could indicate that the object they were in search of had been there. There was no closet to the

room, no place in which any one could be concealed, excepting under the bed; but this was strictly examined, and still nothing was to be seen. To escape by the window was next to impossible; it was high from the ground within, and there was a vast leap to take from it down into the court below: besides, the Gothic mullions were so close that there was scarcely room to admit of a human body passing between them. Still the search was continued for some time; they seemed unable sufficiently to convince themselves that no person was there. It was, however, at length abandoned, and as if by one accord the company quitted the room and resumed their stations round the chimney.

Here they sat for a considerable time in profound silence, their eyes commonly fixed on the blazing fire, only now and then wandering towards the doors at which the spectre-for such they were now all ready to believe it-had made its entrance and its exit.

At length Birkenthal broke the silence, and addressing himself to Wingerode said, "You will not, I hope, think of sleeping in that room to-night?"

"Most undoubtedly I shall sleep there, you would not have me quit it upon this account?”

Let me entreat you—” "Come, come, Birkenthal, you are a coward."

"Take care what you say; that word must not be lightly used. I hope the field of battle can sufficiently attest that I do not deserve such an epithet, but there is no valour in braving appearances evidently not human."

"Where is your evidence," said Wingerode," that this is any thing more than human ?-I am not disposed to detract in any way from Omnipotence; but I must be well convinced that Omnipotence has ever been exercised in presenting supernatural appearances to mortals, before I can believe in them; and I never yet heard of any that was not afterwards accounted for in some natural way, either by the

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