around; but though surrounded by numbers, each obedient to his will, yet he knew not whether in the multitude of his slaves, he possessed one faithful friend; whilst he was well assured the dethroned king, in his gloomy prison, was secretly beloved by all. The dispersion of Hamilcar's fleet, and the defeat of his own armies on land, filled him with dismay!-nor were these apprehensions removed by any appearance of hope, in his people. A gloomy horror seemed to pervade their minds, and superstitious influence chilled their valour!-omens of dreadful import had appeared at close of day; the sky had been disturbed; the moon arose in blood; and the passage of the stars was marked with fiery gleams; and when Dionysius, alarmed at the effect of these superstitious fears, ordered sacrifices to be offered to the gods, the offerings were rejected; the sacred victim fell lifeless at the altar's foot, before the knife was drawn; the brazen statues were said to tremble; and the marble distilled drops of blood. The Delphic oracle had pronounced omens dire and dreadful; and all were alarmed for the impending fate of Syracuse; yet whether these direful omens *egarded the fate of Evander, or of Dionysius, it was mpossible to tell.

Dionysius entertained one hope !-one secret hope, on which his sanguinary soal glutted with brutal delight. Timoleon had begged a truce; and the ravages of war were suspended for a time, that the rights of sepulture might be granted to the piles of dead, which lay in scattered heaps on the bloody field. It was during this truce, that Dionysius had resolved at dead of night to steal into their campwhile weary with their sacred toil, and sad from the remembrance of their departed friends, they should be feeble and unprepared. On this treacherous plan, the tyrant's hopes of success were great; and were Evander but inurned in the tomb of his forefa

thers, all then would be secure. Hour after hour, he inquired, and the reply was still, "Evander lives," so that he began to fancy him protected by some god, whose powerful influence rendered him inaccessible to human suffering; and dangerous as the attempt would be, resolved to steep his sword in the blood of this powerful enemy !-powerful in his very weakness. Once resolved upon this des perate achievement, he determined to glut his rage still further by witnessing the agonies of Euphrasia, in whose presence the sanguinary deed should be committed; and for this cruel purpose, she was summoned to appear before the tyrant.

With her accustomed calm demeanour and dignity of deportment, she advanced undismayed, though her fearful heart fluttered with innumerable terrors. Dionysius reproached her as the cause of much of the blood which had been shed; and accused her husband of conspiracy, in having appealed to the Grecian states to undertake his cause; and in order to avenge himself for all the sorrows she and her husband had heaped upon him, declared that he had decreed for her the signal punishment of behold ing the death of her father! Philotas, he informed

her, was now conducting Evander to his presence, and with a malignant smile of triumph said, that all her plots and intrigues were discovered, and had failed. Euphrasia, supposing Philotas false, could scarce conceal her terror; and when he returned from his embassy, she trembled to hear him speak, lest his words should confirm her apprehensions of his treachery. "Where is your prisoner ?" demanded Dionysius sternly.

Philotas bowed his knee to the earth, and bending his head in lowly reverence replied " Dread sir, your orders came too late, ere I arrived, Evander had breathed his last sigh."

"Is it even so? (replied the tyrant.) Then death has robbed me of half my just revenge: nay do not exult in my disappointed rage, detested woman; you yet are in my power, and shall feel the weight of my vengeance: bring me his hoary head."

A faint exclamation of horror burst from the lips of the terrified Euphrasia, who saw no hope of escape, nor could imagine how Philotas would evade this savage command. He hesitated for a moment, then entreating the pardon of Dionysius, informed him that immediately on Evander's death, he had plunged his body into the foaming flood.

Dionysius, exulting in the death of his victim, now thought himself secure, gave orders for the immediate execution of Euphrasia, and smiling with malignant triumph left her with scorn. Euphrasia's gratitude to Philotas burst forth, on the departure of Dionysius; when he bade her hasten to her father, and should any sacrilegious footsteps dare to invade the sacred precincts of the tomb, he gave her a dagger to defend the passage. Singly they must enter; and then her arm might yet defend her father's sacred life. He also disclosed to her the treachery of Dionysius, in his intention of assaulting the camp of Timoleon at midnight, and that Phocion with a

passport from Melanthon had left the city to give information of his infamous designs.

Meantime the tyrant's hopes rose high. Evander dead! Euphrasia condemned! Phocion and his infant son alone remained to thwart his towering ambition! In the attack on the camp of Timoleon, one of these aangerous foes might fall, and a conquest over Timoleon would confirm him at once in all his doubtful rights! Calippus watched from the tower the motions of the enemy. All was still, and tranquil, and Dionysius meditated an easy triumph over his slumbering foes. He gave to each of his officers their appointed stations, and informed them of the signals, by which their secret attack should be guided; but while yet he gave his orders with the triumphant assurance of success, an affrighted messenger appeared with the unexpected tidings that Timoleon had issued from his camp, and possessed himself of the subterraneous path, leading to the heart of the city, that the foe was pouring upon them, with a resistless force, and that a general slaughter was likely to be the result.

Dionysius burst at once into the most bitter invectives against the treachery of Timoleon, in thus breaking the promised truce; forgetful that a similar breach of trust had been his own determination : not once admitting the idea that secret intimation of his intended treachery had been conveyed to the camp of Timoleon; and that the destruction which hovered over him had probably arisen from his own base motives. Rage alone possessed his soul; the rage of baffled hope. Urged by despair he collected his forces and rushed forward to meet the foe. peration supplied the place of inherent bravery; and he dealt destruction round. The contest was long and deadly; till at length overpowered by numbers, deserted by many of his followers, and feebly supported by those who remained, weak and exhausted

Des

by exertion, he with difficulty made his escape, a: fled with a few to seek refuge in the temple.

The first object which presented itsel: to his vie was Euphrasia, who, trembling for the safety of l father, was pacing the temple with hasty and disordered steps. "Detested woman (he instantly exclaimed), cause of all my shame, thou at least sha not triumph over me." He then rushed forward, to plunge his sword into her breast, when the voice of Evander bursting from the tomb arrested his attention! He staggered back, for a moment believing it to be a supernatural appearance; and appalled at the sight his sword dropped from his nerveless grasp: but when a conviction of the truth flashed on his mind, when he felt assured that he had been deceived, betrayed, and that it was the living Evander who stood before him, his rage became madness; he aimed a blow, when Euphrasia uttering a piercing shriek, rushed between her father and the uplifted sword! At that moment the gates of the temple were burst open, and shouts of " revenge, victory, the tyrant is here; plunge your swords into his heart," echoed through the vaulted dome. Again the exasperated Dionysius levelled a despeate blow at Evander, when Epuhrasia suddenly drawing the dagger from her bosom, struck it to his heart, and