awaken ; and then-it may be too late. Thou dost step here out of the pale of humanity; thou must either be a greater man, or thou art a devil. Yet again, my son!-if one spark of hope glimmer for thee any where else, leave this fearful band, where only despair enters, when undirected by a higher wisdom. One may be deceived, believe me; one may take that for strength of spirit, which yet, at the end, is but despair. Believe me— -me! and hasten away. Kos. No; I go no more now. If my prayers do not move you, hear the story of my misfortune. You will then yourself force the sword into my hand; you will lay down on the ground and listen! R. MOOR. I will hear thee. Kos. Know, then, I am a Bohemian nobleman, and became, through the early death of my father, lord of considerable possessions. The place where my domains were situated was a paradise, for it contained an angel-a maiden, adorned with all the charms of blooming virtue, and chaste as the light of heaven! But to whom am I speaking? It passes over your ears. have never loved,-have never been loved. SCHWEIT. Softly, softly! The captain is as red as fire. You R. MOOR. Stop. I will hear thee at another time, in the morning, or-when I have seen blood. Kos. Blood, blood! Hear me further, and I will tell thee of blood that shall fill thy whole soul. She was of citizen parentage, a German, but her look melted away the prejudices of nobility. With the most timid modesty she took the pledge-ring from my hand, and the next day I was to lead to the altar my Amelia. (Moor starts.) Intoxicated with the blessedness that awaited me, while I was dressing for the marriage, I was summoned by an express to the court. I went; they showed me letters, apparently written by me, full of treasonable contents. I blushed for the villany. They took my sword from me, and cast me into prison: all my senses were gone. SCHWEIT. And in the mean time-go on, I smell roast meat already. Kos. Here I lay a month, and I know not what happened to me. I was tormented for my Amelia, who would suffer death each moment for my sake. At last the prime minister appeared, -congratulated me on the discovery of my innocence,-read me the letter of freedom, and returned me my sword. Now, to fly in triumph to my castle, to the arms of my Amelia ;-she was gone! In the midnight she had been taken away, no one knew whither, and since then no one had seen her. Woe! It struck me like lightning. I flew to the town,-to the court; all eyes were turned upon me; no one could give me any information. At last I saw her through a secret window of the palace,—she threw me a note. SCHWEIT. Did I not say so? Kos. Hell! death and devils! thus it was. They had given her the choice, whether she would see me die, or be the mistress of the prince. In the struggle between honour and love she determined for the latter, and (laughing) I was saved. SCHWEIT. What did you do then? Kos. There I stood, as if struck by a thousand thunderbolts. Blood was my first thought, blood was my last. Foaming at the mouth, I run home, pick out a double-edged sword, and rush with it to the minister's house, for he, he only, had been the hellish pander. They must have marked me in the streets, for when I entered, all the chambers were closed. I seek; I ask : He is gone to the prince, is the answer. I go there; they know nothing of him. I go back, burst open the doors, find him; there spring five or six servants from behind, and wrest my sword from me. SCHWEIT. (stamping.) And he didn't fight? and you gained nothing? Kos. I was seized, accused, tried ;-mark you, I was, out of particular mercy, disgracefully banished; my goods went as a present to the minister; my Amelia remains in the clutches of the tiger, her life spent in sighing and mourning, whilst my revenge fasts, and must cringe under the yoke of despotism. SCHWEIT. (sharpening his sword.) That's water for our mill, captain! That's fuel for us! R. MOOR, (who has been walking up and down in violent agitation, springs up. To the robbers.) I must see her. Up,— assemble. You remain, Kosinsky. Get together quickly. ROBBERS. What? where? R. MOOR. Where? who asks where? (Hastily to Schweitzer.) Traitor, wilt thou hold me back? But by the hopes of heavenSCHWEIT. I a traitor?-Go to hell, and I'll follow you. R. MOOR. (Falls on his neck.) Brother! you follow me. She weeps,-she weeps; she mourns out her life. Up, quick, all. To France! In eight days we must be there. [Exeunt. (To be continued.) THE KING'S COLLEGE MAGAZINE. DECEMBER, 1841. CONTENTS. ELLERTON CASTLE; a Romance. By "FITZRoy Pike.”— PAGE 275 CHAP. XIV. Relieves Bruton of a pleasant Delusion with regard to 277 CHAP. XVI. Explains why Mat Maybird knocks Curts on the Head 282 THE LANGUAGE OF TIME 286 FABLES FROM LESSING. The Lion and the Hare.-The Nightingale and 287 288 ZANHAR AND NIANG. Characteristic Poem of the Natives of Madagascar. (From Herder's "Stimmen der Völker."). 293 UNLUCKY DAYS. Characteristic Poem of the Natives of Madagascar. (From 300 RANDOM SKETCHES, FROM THE NOTE-BOOK OF A TRAVELLER IN THE THE ROBBERS; a Tragedy. (Translated from the German of Friedrich 316 LONDON:-HOULSTON AND HUGHES, 154, STRAND. THE KING'S COLLEGE MAGAZINE. DECEMBER, 1841. ELLERTON CASTLE; A Romance. BY "FITZROY PIKE.” CHAPTER THE FOURTEENTH. RELIEVES BRUTON OF A PLEASANT DELUSION WITH REGARD TO THE FAITHFUL PHILIP. ANOTHER day; were we to give rein to a moralizing mood, what a paragraph might we not write on the sad thoughts those words, at times, awaken: - another day! Another day; and morning came the bright sun smiled upon the world, and millions of eyes were once more directed towards it: some men, on their knees, humbly adored it as a God; others, more happy, looked upon its face with joyful admiration as a daily monument of its Creator's mercy ;-to all who perceived its beams it brought a renewal of daily labour and social intercourse, hateful to those whose works had made them fear to meet their fellows, instilling joy into those that formed the nobler part of creation. Heringford and Mat Maybird early left their tent, the cool breeze of morning was upon their cheeks, and the troubles of the past were scattered from memory as they enjoyed the fresh beauties of awakened Nature. As they walked through the avenues of the camp, on each side the inhabitants of the tents were in activity, some polishing and cleaning their arms, others tending the horses, others again busily preparing the morning meal: here a soldier at his task, lightened its tediousness by the hum of a merry martial song, or perhaps celebrated the charms of his English sweetheart: |