dreams; they did not surely imagine he was going on the sea, and there was no likelihood of his becoming such a coward as to throw himself into Ambrisbeg loch.' I am very sorry to add, your poor sister-in-law has been delirious these two days; your elder niece is not much better; and unless your presence can support your younger niece, and yield some comfort to them all, I am afraid I shall but ill be able to do that duty for you.

I am, dear Sir,

Very respectfully yours,

"R-y, Decr.

WM. THORNHILL."

He sunk back in his chair on reading the letter, and none of the company had power to ask what was the matter. However when he had remained in this posture for some time, with an altered colour, and a look that gave no indication of power to speak, (for his eyes, though

widely open and directed to Mr. Le vingstone, had not during this elapse of irresolution been shrouded by their lids,) both Mr. Levingstone and his son sprang towards him, and seizing him by the hands, called aloud for the cause of such sudden consternation and despair. Villejuive could not speak; he pointed to the letter; Antony took it up, and, looking at the signature, asked if there was any bad news in it. Villejuive pointed again to the letter Antony held in his hand, and tried to say-read!

When he could pronounce the word, it was as though his heart had burst; the very room appeared to shake by the shock into which utterance thrust him. Antony read, and gave it to his father; he also read; and both condoled with Mon. Villejuive, and bade him hope for the best.

He would not stay an instant, but

Antony

would go directly to Bute. begged his father would allow him to accompany Mon. Villejuive: Villejuive would be very happy of his company; but he thought Mr. Antony Levingstone would be more happy if engaged with his father during the Christmas holidays, than going where all must be sorrow and sadness, if matters were as bad as the letter represented.

in

"And that's the very reason why I want to go: I beg no objection may be made to my going with you, Mon. Vil. lejuive: I may be able to assist you so trying an occasion." Villejuive thought so too, and begged Antony would accompany him.

It was now one o'clock of a short December's day, and they left Kelvin without further refreshment than one glass of wine and a biscuit; and they were in Greenock next morning, to set off for the isle of Bute with the packet.

The packet-men had heard the sad news respecting the Laird St.Clyde. The passengers insisted that M. Villejuive and Levingstone should have the cabin to themselves: the wind was fair; the vessel cut the deep like a dolphin; they were landed on the isle in four hours, and in one more they reached St. Clyde's house.

It was in every deed the house of mourning. The laird's wife was now quite deranged; his eldest daughter lay in bed like a piece of Parian marble; and his youngest daughter clung to Villejuive's neck, and rent every heart by her wild frantic shrieks.

Here was a season, when nature, in the reins she gives to despair and grief in one fellow-creature, kindly adds superior firmness and resignation to another; for it is seldom she can herself witness the decomposition of all the hearts she gives to drain the bitterest cup of misery and suffering.

When they got Ellen St. Clyde a little composed, the minister approached with them to the chamber of the distracted Mrs. St. Clyde. It was too much for the agonizing woman to bear. Though held by two very powerful women in bed; she darted like an arrow into the arms of Levingstone, exclaiming," Is it Colin! Colin! O, my Colin!" and the minister and the women saved this mother from sinking down to the floor. Her grasp resembled that of death; and when her arms could be disengaged from Levingstone's neck, there needed no more strength of man. to keep her from flying to the loch, and searching its bottom for the corpse of her husband: it was one of those paroxysms of madness which completely debilitates the frame, and leaves its subject in a state of stupor and insensibility, which is best seen in the sculptor's exhibition of this dreadful malady.