over the dancing waves towards its destination. Already the towers of the abbey rose dark upon the distant sky, and the spot from whence the boat first sailed was scarcely visible in the past by prospect. The objects before rose quickly, one by one, upon her sight, like the events of futurity; while those behind crowded soon together, like the faint images which memory heaps up in her long voyage over the sea of time.

As the skiff glided on, Flora, lovely as the morning that shone upon her, but somewhat shaded by a cloud of care—such a cloud as in the brightest summer day will often cross the splendour of the sun, yet leave the heavens still lovelier than before. She leaned thoughtful over the side of the boat, gazing on the waves, as they dashed petulantly past its side. Her thoughts were not of them, though she saw them rush by her; but other more painful ideas crowded on her mind. But at length she resolved not to think of that which

her

which thought could not alter; and raising eye from the waters, she sang to banish sorrowful reflection.

SONG.

"The ocean wave, the giant main,
The water's far extended plain,
And its recesses deep,

Bears worlds upon its swelling tide,
And treasures 'neath its billows wide,
In em'rald casket sleep.

"The simple rill, the valley's stream,
With unknown jewels ne'er does teem,
Nor offers its calm breast

For man and all his busy ways,

But peaceful through the meadow strays,
And murmurs to its rest.

"Yet in the proud sea's treach'rous wave,
How many find a briny grave,

And curse the o'erwhelming flood!

While the calm stream benignant flows,

And guiltless of all human woes,

Dispenses nought but good.

"The lightning rends the lofty pine,

Yet leaves the shrubs that round him twine

In unscathed verdure gay;

Oh

Oh danger, thou art fixed on high,
And who would sorrow's tempests fly,
Must choose the lowly way."

The voice that sung was melody itself; and the rapt boatman, every sense attracted as by the syren's music, forgot the way that he was steering, and suffered the boat to follow the impulse of the wind, without regarding that the rising blast was bearing them far from their destination. Clouds too began to wander over the sky, and a few slow drops of rain seemed to announce the coming of heavier storms, that were seen lowering on the verge of heaven. Gliding along near the shore, the course of the skiff was laid towards St. Mary's abbey. But in vain; the wind shifted the clouds gathered over the sky -and the storm began to pour forth its deluge, sweeping along the agitated bosom of the lake.

the one boatman necessary to guide her bark; but now the tempest made her regret, that in the expectation of sunshine, she had never dreamt of a storm.-" Had I not better put to shore here, lady?" said the man; "we cannot get to St. Mary's with this wind, and the rain increases." She assented, and running the boat into a small creek, the boatman sprang on shore to seek some shelter for Flora, till the storm was gone. Neither the lady nor her attendant knew the spot at which they had arrived. Wild hanging rocks, thickly mingled with wood, surrounded the creek; but no habitation was any where to be seen; and for some time the man wandered on without perceiving any trace of busy mortality. In the mean time Flora continued in the boat, waiting anxiously for his return. The wind rose still higher, the rain fell in torrents, and the fitful lightning blazed wide over the lurid sky and desolate scene around; while the thunder rolling loud and long over head, followed

lowed quick upon the path of its flaming messenger. At length Flora resolved to seek some shelter for herself, as the boatman had not returned. She set her light foot on the shore, and leaving the skiff at its moorings, ran quickly along in search of some place to hide her head from the ruthless rage of the tempest. For some time none offered itself to her sight; and after long wandering on, she endeavoured to return to the boat; but the frequent turnings of her path had perplexed her; and the more she strove to regain her way, the farther she seemed entangled. At length the entrance of a low cave caught her eye, and thither she turned for shelter. It was scarcely more in height than would admit a tall man; but the black remains of a fire at its entrance, proved that no great time had elapsed since some human being had made it their residence.

Flora entered, but the first object which met her view was the clotted bloody hair of a human head, severed from the body,

and