his wine faster and faster, and puffed out his smoke from his pipe with greater rapidity and in larger volumes than he had heretofore done. He was vexed at the defeat and triumph he had just witnessed, and vowed in his own mind, should the man who had last left him return, to stake all that his master had given him, rather than that he should carry it with so high a hand. The fact is, the old cook, to whom we have already alluded, had given Karl a very respectable initiation into the mystery of card-playing, on divers cold winters' nights by the kitchen fire. Now, the game at which the strangers had been engaged was the very one on which he prided himself not a little. The truth must be spoken-mine is not a perfect hero. Besides being double loaded with ambition, he was primed with vanity, which no sooner encountered the match of opposition than explosion took place, which made many rather cautious of coming in his way. In a short time the successful stranger re-entered the chamber, but his adversary came not with him. He challenged Karl, who instantly accepted the offer, called for more wine, and again filled his pipe. He played for very small stakes, yet his little purse was getting lower and lower, for the stranger had an advantage over him which he was slow to believe, but which was at last too evident. At length he had little more than sufficient remaining to discharge the bill of the herbergist, and arose from the table with impatience and vexation. It is doubtful whether the loss of the money affected him so much as the wound that his youthful pride had suffered. He was turning to depart, when the laugh, or rather yell, of his companion checked him. Stung to the soul by the insult he had just received, Karl flew towards him and aimed a blow full at his face, but, in the act of doing so, fell forward on his hands. He sprang up, but the stranger was gone, although the door had been and was still closed and the windows were down. Karl's anger now gave place to astonishment. He was convinced that the stranger had dealings with the devil; nay, he almost thought he had been gambling with the arch master of the ceremonies himself. He found also that either astonishment or Rhenish wine had had the effect of making his steps indecisive, his head giddy, and reduced the chance of keeping on his legs, and the risk of falling down, to pretty even terms. He however paid his host, and, without knowing how he got there, found himself on the back of Nicolaus, riding along as it appeared to him much more rapidly than usual. What surprised him most of all was, that everything around him. seemed likewise to have gotten the travelling mania. There were some fine old elms going at the rate of ten miles an hour, and, what was very remarkable, some little shrubs that grew near appeared to keep up with them. A large farm house was in pursuit of a barn, but they were so well matched, that there was little hope of its being overtaken. There was also an admirable steeple-chase between the heads of two distant churches, and a boy who was sitting on a bank by the road side rode past him in excellent style. "This may be all very agreeable (muttered Karl) to the parties concerned, but, for my part, I care not how soon they finish their long-winded race. Stop, stop-Nicolaus, no galloping if it please thee, thou unruly steed of Satan. Whenever I have desired thee to use thy speed, thou hast gone slow enough, and now thou must, out of thy very obstinacy, and regardless of my safety, hurry on as if thy master were behind thee!" He pulled the rein as he finished speaking, and Nicolaus suddenly stood still. His rider had awakened him from a fine sleeping jog-trot, and he looked as if he much marvelled what satisfactory reason could be given for it. There was no stable near, which doubtless appeared to him the only fair excuse for a full stop, nor was there the least sign of provender. However, for once, he seemed determined to do as his rider wished, and still he stood As Hildebrand the gallant knighte, Who saw his ladye's ghost at nighte Throwe off the veiling palle and shroude, And vanish through a parted cloude. Karl began to be better satisfied, for liminary nods, imitated his master to Karl had been but a short time asleep, when confused and crowded dreams of what had lately happened disturbed his repose. The dark stranger whom he met at the inn was the principal actor in the somnambulatory drama that was going on. Karl beheld and heard him with shuddering and with horror, although, when superstition was out of the case, he had little fear in his composition, as was manifested on various occasions when his high spirit seemed to take but one leap from his heart to his fist, to knock those down from whom he considered he had received an affront. He got his first rudiments, however, of superstitious lore from his nurse, and the old cook at his master's completed his education in that particular branch. The devil was generally the hero of most of her stories, and, to speak disinterestedly, she scarcely gave him his due. Nothing was done, however diabolical, that was not immediately put down to his account; and she often found afterwards, that what she had attributed to him had been committed by persons who had passed in the world as pious and God-fearing characters. The ghost stories that he heard had their effect upon Karl in no ordinary degree, and imbued him with all the visionary and romantic ideas that often lead youth into error, but at the same time throw a charm over that period of life as he had before conceived that he When hearts have not a dream of sorrow, Through all the pleasures of to-day. Karl had not rested sufficiently to maintain his equilibrium with any cer tainty, but he mounted his steed with a determination of proceeding as quickly as it might please his pertinacious four-footed companion. He gave Nicolaus his head, who seemed to move along with no inconsiderable alacrity; indeed, at times his master was by no means too proud of his equestrian talent to prevent his occasionally resorting to the mane, which, although not perfectly jockey-like, possessed the advantage of keeping him in his saddle-no small consideration by the bye to a youth with only about onethird of his senses about him—the more so as no one was near to scrutinize his actions. Well, on he went, thinking of the pleasures that awaited him at Brunswick, and anticipating the kind welcome he should receive from his relatives and friends, when he was suddenly aroused from his waking dream by hearing the sound of a horse's hoofs close at his side. He turned his head, and was startled to find the same tall dark figure who had contrived to make him ride so much lighter, by ridding him of several supernumerary silver pieces at the inn, on a black steed, which exactly kept pace with his own animal. At the first moment, Karl thought of endeavouring to persuade Nicolaus to use his best speed, by a manful application of the whip; but when he considered the unyielding attributes of his stoical quadruped, he gave up the idea in despair. His alarm too was in some degree dissipated by the changed address of the stranger, who courteously wished him a good evening, and testified his delight at having a so lonely a road. companion on Though Karl was rather more assured, he by no means felt that the delight was mutual. "Curse the fellow! (thought the youth) it requires no great stretch of politeness to be civil to a person when you are riding with his money in your belt. I would that his raven-bided beast knew how to stumble and break the ill-favoured cheat's neck, or at least put out his collar-bone !" This charitable sentence, however, he deerned it quite as well not to give vivá voce, for it struck him forcibly that it might not be considered by his fellow-traveller in 48 ATHENEUM VOL. 2. 2d series. the light of a joke. As the stranger entered more fully into conversation, Karl's fears by degrees began to abate; but he could not help now and then giving a sly look under the black horse's belly, to see whether the other foot of the unknown rider corresponded with the one which he had a view of. But he had no opportunity of satisfying his curiosity, for if he ever slackened his pace that the other might go on before him, the stranger also pulled his rein and remained always close at his side. At length they came to a narrow pass, between two hills, where two horses could not go abreast, and Karl said to himself "Ha! ha! I have thee now, or the devil's in't!" He drew up that the stranger might pass on first, but he was too polite to take precedence, and Karl was obliged When he had gone about to go on. half-way through the narrow road, he turned to have a full view of the gentleman who had stood so much upon forms, but how great was his surprise to find that there was not a trace of him to be seen! "So, so, (cried Karl) this place did not tempt thee, thou arch-fiend! thou liked'st not to show thy cloven foot, and I give thee credit for having some shame left; though verily I am glad to be quit of thy visage!" When he came to the end of the pass, and was jogging on gaily, he nearly dropped from his saddle, at finding the dark rider, whom he fancied he had left behind, still by his side. "I mark thy surprise, (said he to Karl) but I saw when thou wert riding before me that thy horse had lost his tail, and out of compassion for the poor beast, hatred for the flies that annoy him, and respect for his rider, I went back, and by good fortune found it lying on the road. I have now (added he) great pleasure in restoring it uninjured." Saying this he presented it with a very creditable bow to Karl, who gazed on the tawny relic in utter astonishment. How Nicolaus had lost his tail he could He was, by no means conjecture. indeed, so amazed that he forgot to thank the stranger for his courtesy, at which the other appeared in no wise 66 So, then (said Karl at offended. last) I am on a tailless horse! It is well that it will be dark by the time I come to my journey's end, or I should be followed through the street as if I were an imp of the dev-" he stopped short in his speech, for he perceived that he had committed himself, as his companion seemed not at all to relish the insinuation. He turned, however, with renewed good humour to Karl, and said: "Come, come, thy case is not so hopeless. Thou shalt not be on the back of an imperfect animal. Give me the tail, and pledge me thy word that thou wilt look straight forward, and not once cast thine eyes backward to make thy remarks on my proceedings, and I promise without loss of time to affix the fly-flapping appendage once more to the hinder part of thy steed." Karl, although he strongly doubted the possibility of such a manoeuvre, willingly pledged his word,and in a moment afterwards heard the stranger mutter something which was unintelligible to him, but which he made no question was some spell used in the ceremony of tail-fixing. "Turn (said the stranger, who was now again beside him), thy horse is again repaired!" Karl did as he was requested, and the tail was manifest; but Nicolaus betrayed as little joy at the recovery of it, as he had evinced sorrow for its loss. Karl could not help suspecting that the stranger had made him promise to look straight forward, not so much out of fear that he should be a spy upon his operations, as that he dreaded an exposure of the cloven-foot; nevertheless he thanked him for his good offices, and kept on his way. After a time it occurred to him that a pipe would be no bad thing; but when he had filled it, found to his mortification that he had lost his flint, and began railing in good set terms at his own carelessness and indiscretion. "Despair not, while I am near thee (said the stranger); hold thy pipe towards me!" No sooner was this done than he breathed upon it, and the tobacco was ignited. Karl felt now convinced that he was travelling with Satan; for the herb burnt rather blue than otherwise, and there was a villainous smack of sulphur in the only whiff that he took. He had a very certain presentiment that his companion had not brought the fire which he had just given him from the same place where Prometheus had obtained his. The pipe dropped from his lips, and he trembled from head to foot. He now began to devise means of ridding himself of his black-art-practising fellowtraveller. He had observed on their journey that when they came near any of the crosses, which are common to this day in Catholic countries, his com panion vanished, and did not rejoin him until they were out of sight of those devil's eye-sores. He now resolved to make the best use of his observation, and happening to espy a small cross at a little distance, and seeing that his good friend had left him as usual, he rode up to it, dismounted, and easily drew it from the ground. "It's an ill procession, they say, when the devil carries the cross, (cried Karl) so I'll e'en be before-hand with him." He threw it across his shoulders, vaulted into his saddle, and trotted forward, until he came to a town which he supposed to be the place of his destination. Nicolaus made a sudden halt and neighed loudly; and lashes and caresses were alike ineffectual to induce him to proceed. A door was opened, and the old cook who knew the voice of Nicolaus too well to be mistaken, welcomed the young appren tice home again to his master's house, at Magdeburg. The truth is, that Nicolaus, liking better a dirty stable than a clean road, had taken care to turn his head homeward, when his rider awoke from his slumber under the tree, and Karl was obliged to defer his visit to Brunswick until a better opportunity should occur. He told his master the whole story on the next morning; but the jeweler (unbelieving as he was!) attributed every thing to his superstition and state of intoxication; but the old cook was fully persuaded that he had actually been in the society of the devil, and was not satis fied that he was entirely out of his, the said devil's power, until he had con fessed to the priest of the family, purified himself with an additional and sprinkling of holy water. His master had the cross burned, and warned Karl not to mention the circumstance of his having sacrilegiously carried it off, as he might incur the displeasure of the holy church. Karl did as he was desired, and on the following day the removal of the cross was discovered, and considered as a miracle by the good people of Lower Saxony in the seventeenth century. THE MAIDEN'S FUNERAL. THE COUNTRY CHURCH-YARD.-NO. V. A LITTLE longer, yet a little longer let us tarry in this secluded burial-ground. The sun's golden rim touches not yet the line of that bright horizon. Not yet have the small birds betaken themselves to their leafy homes, nor the bees to their hives, nor the wild rabbits to their burrows on the heath. Not yet, sailing like a soft fleecy cloud through the grey depths of twilight, hath the lightshunning owl ventured abroad on her wide winnowing vans, nor is the bat come forth, cleaving the dewy air with his eccentric circles. Tarry a little longer, even till the moon, that pale, dull, silvery orb, shines out uneclipsed by the glories of her effulgent brother. Then, will her tender light, glancing in between those ancient oaks, sleep sweetly on the green graves, and partially illumine that south-east angle of the Church Tower, and those two long narrow windows. And then will our walk homeward be delightful-far more so than in the warm glow of sunset. For then, every bank and hedgerow will be glittering with dew in the pale silvery light, and every fern leaf will be a diamond spray, and every blade of grass a crystal spear; and sparks of living fire will tremble on them, and glance out with their emerald rays from between the broad leaves of the coltsfoot and the arum. And then the wild honeysuckles, (our hedgerows are full of them,) will exhale such sweets as I would not exchange for all the odours of the gardens of Damascus; or if we go home by the heath track, the wild thyme, and the widows-wail, will enrich the air with their aromatic fragrance. On such a night as this will be, I never unreluctantly re-enter the formal dwell ings of man, or resign myself to oblivious slumbers. Methinks, how exquisite it would be, to revel like a creature of the elements the long night through in the broad flood of moonshine! To pass from space to space with the fleetness of thought, "putting a girdle round about the earth in forty minutes," or to skim silently along, on the stealthy moonbeams, to lonely places, where wells of water gush up in secret, where the wild deer come fearlessly to drink, where the halycon rears her young, and the water lily floats like a fairy ship, unseen by human eye-and so, admitted to nature's sanctuary, blending as it were in essence with its pervading soul of rapturous repose-to be abstracted for a while from dull realities, the thoughts and cares of earth, that clog the unextinguishable spirit with their dense vapours, and intercept its higher aspirations-what living soul, conscious of its divine origin, and of its immortal destination, but must at times feel weary of this probationary state, impatient of the conditions of its human nature, and of bondage in its earthly tabernacle! What living soul that has proved the vanity of all sublunary things, but has at times aspirated with the royal Psalmist, "O that I had wings like a dove, for then would I flee away and be at rest!" Hark! there's a stir near us-a stir of footsteps, and of human voices. It proceeds from within the Church and see, the porch doors are ajar, a also that low-arched door-way openi into the belfry. Those steps are as cending its dark narrow stair, and the hark again! from within, a low duid creaking sound, and then-one long, deep startling toll-another, ere the |