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“I will,” answered Charles; “but not your second.” Sir Philip turned from him in anger, saying, that the baron de S would, no doubt, undertake that friendly, but disagreeable task “What!” exclaimed Charles, interrupting him, “would you really then possess a woman's person, without possessing her heart? or do you think to win her love, by murdering him to whom she is attached? or to prove your affection, by destroying her happiness?” Sir Philip was agitated, and made a sign for Charles to stop; but he proceeded —“Is this your feeling, Mason? is this your generosity? By Heavens, I would rather suffer any disappointment than blast the peace of two people who love one another, for the gratification of my vanity, or the satisfaction of my passions!” Sir Philip caught him firmly by the arm.—“Stop, Melville!” he exclaimed— “stop! You are right—you are right!” * and and sinking his head upon his breast, there was a momentary agonizing conflict. He dashed a bitter tear from his eye, and after walking up and down for a minute, he offered Charles his hand.—“You are right,” said he; “if I love her, Melville— and God knows how I do love her—I ought to try to make her happy, not wretched; and if I can, I will do so. You shall be my friend in this instance at least, and take a letter from me to colonel P .”

Charles promised he would, and the baronet sitting down, wrote a few lines, which he made him read. They were:–

“SIR,

“Informed of her engagement

with you, I can, of course, have no claim on the hand of signora Mori. As I cannot be her husband, suffer me to act as her brother, and say that her fortune is ten thousand pounds, in the hands of my bankers, on whom I enclose a draft. Your M 4 mutual mutual affection has deprived me of happiness—do not let your mutual pride take from me the only consolation that is left to PHILIP MASON.”

Charles had expected some effort of his generosity, for ardent minds like his are never satisfied but in extremes. But this, however, was more than he had calculated on, and he returned the note, with a high and sincere compliment on his liberality. Sir Philip's only reply was, that he eould well afford it.—“Let me entreat you, Melville,” he added, “to take it immediately, for he must be very unhappy; and I wish you not to let him refuse it, which he will most likely do at first. I shall leave Naples early to-morrow for Palermo, and I should wish to hear the result.” Charles had not an idea where the young officer lived; but sir Philip's Neapolitan servant was one of those intelligent beings who are not long in discovering any

any thing that is to be discovered within the sphere of a valet de chambre, and he undertook to conduct Charles to the street

where colonel P-resided. How he happened to know, matters not —I never inquired, reader, and I don't see why you should either. The house to which the shrewd Italian led Mr. Melville was in the poorer part of the city. The door was open, and on the threshold stood a little girl, of whom Charles asked if colonel P-lived there. She replied that he did, and was at home, and pointing with her hand, she desired him to go on, and turn to the right at the end of the passage. Sir Philip's servant led the way, and threw open the door to the right hand, when the first object that met Charles's view, was the person whom he sought. He was sitting at a table, with his head leaning on it, as if asleep. There was an inkstand, with an open letter be. side him; his sword lay near, and Charles observed observed that one hand, which was on the letter, contained a pistol. He started up at the noise made by the servant, whom Charles reprimanded for his rudeness in opening the door so unceremoniously.—“I am afraid I intrude upon you, sir,” he continued, turning to colonel P−, who bowed slightly, and pointed to a seat; “I am the bearer of a letter from sir Philip Mason,” he added, and handed him the note. Colonel P took it, and gazed at it for a moment, without opening it, with an air of abstraction; then raised his eyes to Mr. Melville's face, and answered, with a melancholy smile—“Your friend might have saved himself the trouble. He shall hear from me some time to-morrow,” he added, and laid the note down, still unopened, beside him. “Sir Philip,” answered Charles, “leaves Naples early to-morrow morning, and therefore 32 “Leaves Naples 1" he exclaimed— “ leaves

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