had remained with his arms folded upon his breast, erect and motionless, though the fixity of his gaze, the compression of his lips, and his dilated nostrils, told how intense was his interest in the scene; and now that it was over, he still stood in the same position, face to face with his adversary, who, like himself, appeared to have been suddenly turned to stone! The ball which Seckendorf had continued to hold in his hand fell heavily to the ground, and aroused them from their waking trace.

""Tis well!" said Löwenstein, firmly, after a deep expiration; "'tis well! the peril was the same to both, and I will abide the issue! Seckendorf, we may be friends again, for our wounded honour is now made whole!"

A deep sigh, almost amounting to a groan, was the only answer he received, for Seckendorf, after wringing his proffered hand in silent anguish, with almost painful violence, dashed down the stairs into the street, whither he was soon afterwards followed by the other.

It is of course to be supposed that each of them had sworn to maintain the most inviolable secrecy upon the subject of their meeting, and therefore when they met their comrades in the evening as usual, not the smallest hint was given that could lead them to imagine that their wellmeant interference had proved so futile: thus (being entirely ignorant of the events of the morning) they one and all congratulated them upon the happy termination of a dispute which seemed to threaten serious consequences: in fact, everybody appeared to be in good spirits, with the exception of Seckendorf, who left the table at a very early hour, and who had remained so silent and abstracted that nothing but the recollection of yesterday's occurrence could have saved him from the jests of his comrades. Löwenstein, on the contrary, seemed even gayer than usual-he laughed loudly, he talked incessantly, he drank deeplyalthough one who watched him closely might perhaps have discovered that his gaiety was more forced than natural, and that he only resorted to these means in order to conceal the real feelings of a heart but ill at

ease.

On the following morning, Löwenstein applied for a month's leave of absence, which, being granted, he set out for his own domains, where, after preparing the means for raising a large sum of ready money, he occupied himself entirely on business-affairs, and in "setting his house in order;" all of which being concluded to his satisfaction, he returned to Vienna, about a week before his term of leave had expired, and then instantly commenced a course of life of such ceaseless debauchery and dissipation as frequently to create doubts of his sanity in the minds of those who had been previously acquainted with him. At all times rather extravagant, he now became profuse in every item of his expenditure: the most costly carriages thronged his court-yard without the remotest chance of ever being used! a hundred horses were fed and pampered in his stables! and as to his domestics, "their name was legion!" His nights and days were spent in the unremitting pursuit of pleasure and excitement of every kind: he made himself the patron alike of poets, musicians, actors, philosophers, buffoons, and charlatans, and his house was more generally the resort of the wanton and licentious than the honourable or virtuous but he was evidently reckless of consequences, and only seemed to live in the midst of excitement and revelry, without the smallest care for the world's opinion.

Of course many and marvellous were the reasons assigned for such extraordinary conduct; and as he became the universal talk of the town, it may well be supposed that the ears of his "lady love," of his betrothed, though deserted bride, were often startled by heart-rending stories of his profligacy! To her, this sudden change had something appalling in it, and many a weary hour had she passed in maddening speculations as to what could have produced it; but she suffered not alone! for though every other pang he had to struggle with, as a part of his dreadful lot might have been borne with fortitude, yet this estrangement was to him like the tearing of his " dear heart strings!"

He, Seckendorf, the companion of his youth, the friend of his boyhood, and it may be said the innocent cause of all, how fared he in the estimation of himself? He had lived for some time in constant fear and wretchedness; for the day had not been fixed, and when he laid him down at night he was never certain that the tale of horror might not be sounded in his ears on waking! but latterly he had dared to hope! for as the prescribed period' drew near its close, and still found Löwenstein absorbed in the reckless pursuit of pleasure, he had supposed it possible that he might neglect to fulfil their dreadful compact! and then (although he could never even speak of him again) his blood would not be called for at his hands. Alas, he utterly misconceived the meaning of those very acts which, like the symptoms of a disease, should have taught him the real nature of the cruel malady which preyed upon the mind of its wretched victim; it was evident that he bore so keenly in mind the horrid fate which awaited him, that he could not think upon it with fortitude, and therefore resorted to every kind of excitement, in order to drive it from his thoughts until the period had come when it could no longer be postponed. It was but too evident that he did not intend to break the devilish compact he had made; as the very manner in which he threw away the means of life told how plainly he felt that he should never want them. Can anything be conceived more terrible than this? not only to know the very hour at which we are to die, and therefore to crawl through life with the cold hand of death upon our shoulder! but to feel also that the manner of it must shut us out for ever from the mercy of offended Heaven! Oh, horrible!

Exactly twelve months from the evening of that day which was the epoch of the commencement of this narration, there was a grand bal masqué at the house of the Ambassador to the imperial court of Vienna. In the motley crowd there were characters of all kinds, from the buffoon to the knight-templar, and many who mingled in the gay crowd were, on that evening, to their infinite dismay, reminded of their most secret peccadilloes, by those who being better disguised than themselves, had it in their power to pursue their malicious pastime without the chance of discovery. Löwenstein was present in the dress of a Spanish grandee, which was well calculated to exhibit his symmetrical figure to advantage; his short gold-embroidered velvet cloak hung carelessly over his left shoulder, leaving his richly-worked satin vest exposed to view, whilst the plume of ostrich feathers which nodded from his jewelled hat drooped so low upon his face as to conceal its features nearly as well as some of the masks which, for the sake of coquetry or affectation, were merely held by the hand, instead of being duly fastened over the face. He had been extremely gay during the early hours of the even

ing, dancing almost incessantly, and leading on the waltzers with such unwearied spirit, as to appear entirely proof against fatigue; but as the night advanced he had retired with his partner from the blaze of the brilliantly-lighted saloon, and was observed to enter the conservatory with her whence the fragrant exotics gave a delightful freshness to the air.

The lady in question was young and beautiful, and though it was evident from her mien and bearing that she belonged to a far higher order, she was dressed in the costume of a peasant of the canton of Zurich: nothing could be more simple than this attire, for, save that her head-dress of black lace, which resembled the outstretched wings of a gigantic butterfly, was secured by means of a small diamond brooch, which might be likened to the body of the insect, she wore no ornaments of any kind; as the bracelet of dark hair which encircled her left arm (and which so strongly resembled the colour of his who stood by her side, as to lead any one to imagine they might be the same) although clasped with gold, could scarcely be called so. Those who watched them on this evening, (and the prying gaze of many were upon them,) say that during their brief interview the lady's looks were sad, and that many a tear after trembling for a moment in her dark-blue eyes fell heavily upon her pallid cheek; while he, though he spoke with all the forced calmness of despair, was evidently dreadfully agitated!

The strokes upon the silver bell of the enamelled dial at their side were heard to chime the three-quarters; he started as if the fangs of an adder had suddenly pierced his flesh, and these concluding words of their discourse reached the ears of the standers-by-" Amilie, I cannot ! I dare not! I have already staid too long, for I have an engagement to fulfil before midnight, or my honour is lost-Farewell!" He passed hurriedly through the crowd which thronged the saloon, taking no notice of the numerous inuendos of his masked associates, and springing down the marble staircase, he entered his carriage, which whirled him away with great rapidity from the festive scene.

It wanted still a few minutes to midnight when the neighbourhood of was aroused by the report of a pistol-shot! It came from the bed-room of Löwenstein: his servants entered with fear and trembling, and there upon his couch, with the fatal instrument by his side, lay the lifeless corpse of their master, his rich apparel still unremoved spattered with brains and blood!-He had lived to the last moment allowed him by the terms of the dreadful agreement to which he had pledged himself, and then he thus fearfully fulfilled it.

The tale is ended! and for the melancholy satisfaction of those who may be unwilling to believe that such a thing could ever come to pass, it may be mentioned that there are several now living who can vouch for its perfect truth.

THE GREAT WESTERN JUNGLE.*

BY AN OLD FOREST RANGER.

"WHAT has become of the Old Forest Ranger ?" we hear some of our fair readers exclaim: "that nice old man that used to tell us such interesting stories about tigers and bears; and made one's blood run cold by his graphic description of hair-breadth 'scapes and stirring adventures in the wilderness. Where can he be? he has not been heard of for the last three months. It is really too provoking that he should break off just at the moment when we expected him to carry Charles back to the hills, and give us a little bit of love-making between him and his pretty cousin Kate. A good love scene would have been quite refreshing after all the slaughter and bloodshed he has crammed us with of late."

"The old fellow is in his dotage," says one: 66 and, besides, he is such a horrid savage, that, even if he did get back to the hills, he would not know how to make love like a Christian: so, for my part, I think his absence is no great loss, and should not be sorry to hear that the horrid old monster is dead and buried !"

"What a shame to talk so unkindly of the good old man!" exclaims that dear, kind-hearted lassie, with the dark hazel eyes, and the glossy brown hair, and the long black silken eyelashes-she is very like what our Good-wife used to be in her younger days-bless her sweet face! "What a shame to talk so of the poor old gentleman! the late cold weather has, no doubt, affected his lungs, and I dare say he is laid up with an attack of asthma. But I trust we shall soon have him on foot again, now that the weather is warmer; and as for his being in his dotage, I'll be bound he has a spark of latent fire in his old heart yet, and will be able to do a love-scene better than half the light-headed, cold-hearted, flirting young men who we see going about the world nowa-days. But hush, girls, hush! I declare, here comes the worthy gentleman himself; there is no mistaking his shabby grey kilt, and greasy red night-cap."

Yes, my darlings, it is the Old Forest Ranger himself, and in wonderfully good plight for a superannuated savage. The devil a bit of asthma have we got, nor are we yet so far gone in our dotage as to be insensible to the charms of your bright eyes and rosy lips. But of our whereabouts, for the last three months, ask us not, we pray ye. In fact, we hardly know ourselves where we have been; or if we do, are not at liberty to mention. The Good-wife says we have been "in a kind of a dream;" in fact, no just right in our mind," and that, in our raving, we "hae deeved her " by singing the praises of some unearthly maiden, such as Kilmeny appeared on her return from the Land of Faery:

"And O, her beauty was fayer to see,

But still and steed fast was her ee!

Her seymar was the lille flouir,

And her cheik the moss-rose in the shouir;

And her voyse lyke the distant melodye

That floatis alang the silver sea."

*Continued from No. ccv., p. 64.

Of some such vision, between you and us, we have a certain faint recollection: but this must go no farther; for, in spite of the Good-wife's evil insinuation that our mental aberration has been caused by over indulgence in the use of our mountain dew, we ourselves strongly suspect that, like Kilmeny, we have been on a visit to the land

66

quhair the cocke nevir crew,

Quhair the rayne nevir fell and the wynd nevir blue."

And the Queen of Faëry, who doubtless is the being of whom we raved, would make us dree heavy dole if she suspected us of divulging the secrets imparted to us in "the Land of Thochte." Suffice it to say, that our dream, or vision, or visit to the good people, or whatever else it may have been, was a right pleasant time to us, and if such goodly dreams are to be procured by the use of strong waters, we shall not stint our cogie for the future, whatever our Good-wife may say.

And now, my dear Lassies, if you will just have patience, and keep your pretty mouths shut for half an hour, we shall have much pleasure in imparting to you some farther information anent our long-neglected friends in the Jungle.

The sun has already set, and the short twilight of the tropics is fast darkening into night; an unnatural silence pervades the forest; the close air of the woods is more dense and oppressive than usual, and the heat is almost suffocating.

Our three friends are seated in front of the principal tent, smoking their cigars; their hunting dresses have been exchanged for that truly oriental dishabille of slippers and musquito-trowsers; they appear languid and oppressed by the unnatural heat of the atmosphere, and their shirts are thrown open, to woo the passing zephyr, as they sit smoking in profound silence. Even the dumb animals appear to feel the overpowering influence of the electric fluid with which the atmosphere is surcharged. The horses, with drooping ears, hang listlessly over their untasted food. The dozing bullocks have forgotten to ruminate as usual. The birds have already flown for shelter to the densest thickets of the forest, and Nature awaits, in silent awe, the coming storm.

"We are going to have a dirty night of it," said Mansfield, after regarding the appearance of the sky for some minutes.

"Faith, you may say that," replied the Doctor, starting from a halfdoze; "and it is high time we were getting the tents secured, else we shall hae them aboot our lugs before day-light. Whare the deevil are a' thae lazy loons o' Lascars? they might hae thocht of bushing the tent-pegs afore this time. Od, the hale camp appears to be in a dwam, kye, and horses, and a'-Chuprassee bolow!" continued he, bestowing a kick on the ribs of our friend Heels, who, rolled up in his cumbley, was snoring right lustily between the walls of the tent.

*

"Abba!" muttered Heels, turning on his side, with a grunt, and again snoring louder than ever.

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Chuprassee bolow!" with another kick, more earnestly bestowed than the former.

*Bushing the tent-pegs. This is done, on the approach of heavy rain, by digging a hole near each tent-peg, and filling it with brushwood, to act as a sort of drain and prevent the water from saturating the ground, and making the pegs draw.