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he wandered forth from the hall of his ancestors, while the clear moon illumined so many scenes familiar with his early days, did not turn his eyes upon the mementoes of infant pleasures and innocent delights; but with frowning brow, and eyes bent upon the ground, pursued his way in deep and seemingly bitter thought. He wandered on; his foot traced along the farthest depths of the valley ; seemingly. unconscious, he entered the chasm that leads towards the lake; while the mourn., ful wailing of the water spirit predicted the storm which was then rising on the wings of the wind. Gradually growing over the face of night, the dark throne of the tempest hid the moonlight from the world, and he found himself in utter darkness, standing between the frowning rocks and the overhanging wood. It was then that turning back he endeavoured to retrace his steps, a low distant sound caught his attention; it was the moaning of the blast. He looked forward on his way.

The

The solitude seemed doubly solitary-the darkness doubly dark; and then the lightning burst forth from the jaws of night, and in its eager brightness at once disclosed the kindled scene around. What was it met his eye? The form of one too. well, too fatally known, shone clear and distinct in the wide blaze of the sky.“ Avaunt! begone! false vision, down!” he cried, drawing his sword; “if not dead, die!" and making a violent effort to strike the phantom, all became darkness, and he sunk senseless to the ground. -

CHAPTER IV.

Sunshine dwelt upon the bosom of the lake. The sky was clear and bright; for the wind had wafted afar every cloud that had obscured its loveliness, and the boat which bore Flora on her way, gliding by rock and valley, bay and promontory, of the gay and diversified shore, flew swiftly

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 thought could not alter; and raising her 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 food!
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 danger, thou art fixed on high,
And who would sorrow's tempests Ay,

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.

Flora, in hopes of seeing the wizard priest, had refused other attendants than

the

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