He threw down a handful of pitch pine-knots, laid his axe against the burning tree, and with a branch of hemlock swept off the flame from the spot where the fire was eating through, as if to see how nearly it was divided.

I began to think him insane, for I could get no answer to my questions, and when he spoke, it was half audibly and with his eyes turned from me, fixedly. I looked in the same direction, but could see nothing remarkable. The seducer slept soundly beneath his matted wall, and the rude door of the shanty was behind us. Leaving him to see phantoms in the air, as I thought, I turned my eyes to the drip of the waterfall, and was absorbed in memories of my own, when I saw the girl steal from the shanty, and with one bound overleap the rocky barrier of the platform. I laid my hand on the shoulder of my host and pointed after her, as with stealthy pace, looking back occasionally to the hut, where she evidently thought her father slept, she crept round towards her lover.

"He dies!" cried the infuriated man; but as he jumped from me to seize his axe, the girl crouched out of sight, and my own first thought was to awake the sleeper. I made two bounds, and looked back, for I heard no footstep.

"Stand clear !" shouted a voice of almost supernatural shrillness, and as I caught sight of the Picker and Piler, standing enveloped in smoke upon the burning tree, with his axe high in air, the truth flashed

on me.

Down came the axe into the very heart of the pitchy flame, and, trembling with the tremendous stroke, the trunk slowly bent upwards from the fire. The Picker and Piler sprang clear, the overborne ash creaked and heaved, and with a sick giddiness in my eyes, I looked at the unwarned sleeper.

One half of the dissevered pine fell to the earth, and the shock startled him from his sleep. A whole age seemed to me elapsing, while the other rose with the slow lift of the ash. As it slid heavily away, the vigorous tree righted, like a giant springing to his feet. I saw the root pin the hand of the seducer to the earth-a struggle-a contortion-and the leafless and waving top of the recovered and upright tree rocked with its effort, and a long sharp cry had gone out echoing through the woods, and was still.-I felt my brain reel.

Blanched to a living paleness, the girl moved about in the sickly daylight, when I recovered; but the Picker and Piler, with a clearer brow than I had yet seen him wear, was kindling fires beneath the remnants of the pine.

THE PRINCE OF DARKNESS.

is a gentleman."-SHAKSPEARE.

BY GEORGE RAYMOND, ESQ.

I AM better to day-considerably better; but my mistrust of absolute recovery is still the same, the disease under which I am labouring must ultimately destroy me. How much better do I feel by a visit from my friend Charles! His companionable qualities minister to my spirit a transient reinvigoration, in which I ever find the bodily frame participates. Charles is really a feature in the drama of life, contributing little, perhaps, to the great business of the scene, which, mechanically, would go on as well without him; but his character bears with it an agreeable variety, by which, though the world itself may not be materially benefited, yet I undoubtedly am so. Though frequently a butt, he is always a hero; and in various instances his goodnatured blundering begets him as much applause, as though he were a positive wit. The anecdote which he has just related, though not of the first order, after his own way, and the hallucinations appertaining being equally at the claim of his respective parents as himself, occupy still a page in the social adventures of my friend, and the leaf last turned down indicates the following.

In the course of the present week he had, accidentally, in this place, encountered a certain acquaintance, a gentleman with whom his father and himself had originally fallen in, during their short stay at some one of our large mercantile cities, and in whose power it had been to confer on the W. family much useful attention and considerable gratification. This gentleman, though neither marvellously intelligent himself, nor deeply skilled in the mysteries of science or commercial strife, was still known to others who were so; and by his means, therefore, Mr. W. and my favourite friend Charles passed a fortnight in the city of -, very much to their satisfaction. Unexpectedly delighted was each at their occurrence in Hastings, and after a hearty shake of recognition, Charles invited his companion to a dinner for the following day, at his father's house.

When I say recognition, I mean thereby of face, lineaments, and manière; but as to the name of the individual, my young friend confessed, much to his annoyance, that he had altogether forgotten it. He felt however assured, on relating the circumstance at his family conclave, one and all of them would immediately remind him of it. On reaching home, he described the pleasing apparition of his morning ramble, and, true enough, every circumstance so well recollected by the son, had been equally treasured up by the worthy family-circle; but on a declaration of his dilemma, his mother, with a ludicrous look of embarrassment, observed, "This is indeed very untoward, for Sophia and myself are in the same predicament-we also have forgotten the gentleman's name!"

The family began now to find their situation becoming not a little perplexed; and on the morrow, as the hour of six p. m. was approaching, with that rapidity which time usually chooses when he promises to bring evil along with him, the general uneasiness was by no means

abated. Every project was thought of, which might be likely to unravel the distressing mystery. The alphabet was first put into requisition : "Atkins, Batskins, Catskins-Armstrong, Bachelor, Coxheath,"-all, all in vain. "Brown, Jones, and Robinson," were equally of no avail, and each experiment was 66 a deed without a name."

Charles, however, stated a suggestion which might lead to their rescue, which was to lay a special mandate on the footman to give due emphasis on announcing the name of each guest, at his introduction to the drawing-room; and this he further enforced by actually telling him the necessity for it. This arrangement tended in some degree to compose their minds, and they now only awaited the arrival of their company. In due time, the umber-clouded street-door shook again by the operation of the first knocking. Breathless was the silence in the drawing-room, and "Mr. Cincinnatus Wharton" was announced in so altisonant a key, as to challenge some slight suffusion into the countenance of the young gentleman, as he made his way to the upper end of the apartment. But Cincinnatus Wharton was not the material which composed the interest of the moment. Again were the panels startled; a second knocking—a third, quick upon its heels. "Colonel and Mrs. Lomax !"—in they came. "Mr. Pipkin !"-and in glided Mr. Pipkin. Mr. Pipkin passed through a reduplication, and in a tone which might have entitled Davison to no less an office than that of toastmaster at Guildhall; but neither Pipkin, nor the colonel, nor his lady, was the man. By this time, the whole party, with the exception of the tardy Unknown, were arrived. The interest grew warmer. Like Fabius, he gained mightily by delay; but the family began to entertain great hopes that their friend might have been afflicted in nowise dissimilarly with themselves, and had either forgotten his invitation altogether, or had been providentially detained elsewhere. But another and a final rattling at the panels proclaimed him here. W., his wife, my young friend, and the fair Sophia, moved in a family knot in the direction of the door, making assurance doubly sure, by catching the full force of Davison's announcement; when, whether suddenly unmanned by this family array, or paralyzed by overwrought anxiety, which oftentimes o'erleaps itself, it would be as difficult as immaterial to say, but in walked the substance of a man, to the phantom of a name! Tonguetied was the entranced Davison, and "stuck in his throat!"

What was now to be done? What could now be done?

Fortunately, the fashion for general introductions had fallen into disuse, and this was something. Yet what was to be done? Some one present,--Pipkin, for instance, so fond of going from place to place, and being considered a great diner out, might possibly be acquainted with him, and so accost him by name; and it might turn out, if the undiscovered were but a bit of an egotist, he would indulge in some narration of "himself and times," whereby his obnubilated patronymic might transpire to the fullest content.

A thought worth a jewel suddenly invested Charles. "Gentlemen not unfrequently have their names written in their hats; an initial will speak the rest ;-I'll go into the hall and find it. Or, peradventure, he may have come in a great-coat, which, not very unlikely, may contain his card-case-I'll pick his pocket!" And away he ran out of the room, leaving his benighted parents to grope their way as well as they could, until the announcement for dinner.

Nothing, however, could be found to give any clue to this sphinx of a name. The hat disclosed only "water proof," at the bottom, and a cloak, containing a pair of that most useful of articles, golosshes, had been brought instead of a great-coat. "My usual and own peculiar luck!" mentally exclaimed Charles, when observing Davison supporting the family tureen into the dining-parlour. "I can't tell how it was, sir," mournfully said the man, "but the gentleman's name got the better of me, and of Robert, too."

In the mean while, the master of the house was endeavouring to make light of the matter with the Prince of Darkness. He talked of London, of mutual acquaintances and past occurrences, hoping thereby the deeply-imbedded word, by some coincidence or other, would be rooted up and fully discovered. But no such thing-"Oh! no, we never mention him!" and dinner was served. The Prince, under the delusion that the entertainment had been fixed for the special honour of his company, offered his arm to his amiable hostess, and the rest of the gentlemen with appropriation of partners, after a little amicable contest as to precedence, followed at length in a rush towards the parlour; an act altogether as clumsy as the first was ridiculous.

The stranger was placed on Mrs. W.'s right-hand. They who followed dropped into their respective chairs. The unfolding of napkins, tinkling of glasses, and collision of soup-plates, which constitute the preliminary buzz of a dinner-party, took the field; and matters appeared at least to commence tolerably well.

The Unconfessed had very gallantly taken on himself the severance of a Dover turbot, and passed on it the favour of his own especial admiration, when W., being desirous of making the polite apprehension that "Mr. had gotten into a troublesome corner," found himself painfully curtailed of the bland address; for not being in possession of his name, the intended civility could not be forthcoming. Yet it soon became necessary to say something, and directing therefore his voice to the upper end of the table, and fixing his eye steadfastly on his friend, said, "Shall I have the honour of helping you, sir, from my ragoo?" but, unfortunately, not having caught even a glance in return, no answer was the result. Conversation was, nevertheless, carried on, and the stranger, with an" empressement" peculiar to some people, was whispering a common stock of small talk into the ear of the lady, and declaring the Madeira was of the rarest quality in a confidential manner, worthy a cause of a far softer interest.

W. now made a second effort like the former.

"A little wine, sir, after your trouble at the top of the table?" But Colonel Lomax, who, at that moment happened to look up, and who had hitherto been completely lost in thought, or rather lost for the want of it, replied, "With great pleasure!" He thereupon chose his wine, stooped his head, and raised his glass.

The great Ignote now decidedly took the lead at table, and well satisfied with his single listener, Mr. Pipkin, by whose obsequious attention he was sufficiently compensated for the total absence of it in the rest of the company, he at length established his exclusive privilege to every word that was uttered.

Pipkin had a vague conjecture he had somewhere encountered his fellow guest on a former occasion-at some toxopholite meeting or

fancy fair; but not having the courage to put the question, the interesting fact was "smothered in surmise."

As to the other division of the party, they were ambitious of being learned in no names, but those of transalpine wines-a learning, by the way, which altogether bothered their ambition, and held it rather a distinction of caste to misname even an acquaintance, whom, had he been Peter, they would have called John.

And now the Prince, bursting from the silken trammels of his hostess, into which he had once more fallen, and having rendered Pipkin happy for the rest of the evening, addressed himself somewhat abruptly to the master of the mansion, saying,

"I believe, Mr. W., you have a son who has just sailed for India?" "Last month," was the reply; "my youngest-Perceval."

"Yes, I remember," continued the former; "I was at Liverpool about the time. By the by, did he not go out in a ship named after my family?"

Poor W. staggered even in his chair, and putting the wing of a pheasant, intended for the colonel's lady, into his own plate, which already contained a sufficient portion of omelet sucré, stammered forth, “Ye— yes-he did so he did so."

Here a most involuntary burst of laughter from my young friend Charles caused the company to turn round, somewhat to the mortification of Pipkin, who was never desirous of missing a joke. But Charles, having by no means the confusion of his father before his eyes, announced to him in a measured whisper, "Then his name, after all, is Agamemnon!"

The illustrious Obscure, for an instant, was taken rather aback, and with a certain fixed direction of the eyes, and indescribable extension of nether lip, appeared to say, "Surely, I have uttered something mightily ridiculous!"

But our host resolving to acquire a lesson by this untoward "contretems," and say as little as possible for the future, did not even venture to raise his head; and, that he might have ample pretence for not doing so, betook himself to the pheasant and sweet sauce, unconscious of flavour and involuntary in mastication.

With great precaution, things went on tolerably well until the ladies were about to retire. Pipkin was hastening to the door, when the propinquity of his wine-glass to the gros de Naples of Mrs. Lomax, acquired an acceleration by the movement, which placed it at once in the lady's lap; and having, on his sudden recoil of horror, fixed himself with no equivocal positiveness on the toe of his other neighbour, Cincinnatus Wharton, the confusion which attended the attempt of a double apology, rendered perhaps the unfortunate aggressor more an object of merriment, than the sufferers of pity.

And now our host having but little desire for the renewal of an attack in any wise similar to that last mentioned, and entertaining about as much affection for his guest of the visor, as a scalded cat for a family tea-kettle, instead of taking the post of honour just vacated by his lady, remained where he was at the lower end of the table, addressing himself wholly to Mr. Wharton and the Colonel. But the former, who had for some time past cast an eye of desire upon a certain schedule B borough, was far more inclined to indulge his thoughts on his mistress