THE BROKEN HEART.

BY THE AUTHOR OF "THE SUBALTERN."

(From the Friendship's Offering.)

IN one of the northern counties of England, at the distance of a mile and a half from the sea, and not farther removed from a well-known military station, there stands an old-fashioned red brick mansion, the architecture and extent of which hardly entitle it to be regarded as belonging to the class of manor-houses; at the same time that they may bespeak its proprietors as moving in a sphere considerably above that of ordinary yeomen. For upwards of three centuries, it was the residence of a family, of the name of Wilmot; a race, which, by some accident or another, contrived never, by exertion on the one hand, or misconduct on the other, either to rise or fall in the world. One generation received it from another, in precisely the same condition in which the first had received it from the generation preceding; the lands attached to it were not increased, neither were they diminished: no rooms were added, neither were any taken away; in a word, among the continual changes which affect sublunary things, it appeared as if the Toll, and the Toll alone, remained stationary.

The last of the name which inhabited that mansion, were a father and his daughter. The former, after serving for many years in the navy, married, in some distant part of the kingdom, a young wife; who lived only long enough to present him with a pledge of her affection, and to make him feel how much he had lost, in being thus deprived of her. Whether his domestic affliction had any effect in producing the measure, is not known, but Captain Wilmot went no more to sea, after he became a widower. On the contrary, he withdrew himself entirely from public life, and, taking possession of the Toll, devoted his undivided attention to the education and nurture of his child.

In this retired spot, Rose Wilmot grew up, to be the idol of her father's affections, and an object of love and

Art

esteem to all the surrour.ding neigh bourhood. She was beautiful; yet her personal beauty constituted the least valuable of her attractions. less, gentle, and generous, Rose was never so happy, as when, by chance, she found an opportunity of adding to the happiness of others. To the poor, she was a warm, and yet a judicious friend; to her equals, a lively and cheerful companion; and to her parent, the very apple of an eye, without which, life would have no value. Rose was not, in the ordinary acceptation of the term, accomplished; that is to say, she was no classic; and the only modern tongues with which she was acquainted, were the French and English. She played, indeed, and sung with taste and feeling; but her sole instrument was the piano forte, and her collection of music consisted almost entirely of wild and simple national airs. But Rose was possessed of higher gifts than can be conferred by the ablest masters. Her heart was good, her understanding was clear, and her disposition just so far romantic, as to give zest to the enjoyments of common life, without contributing, in any very serious degree at least, to magnify its petty grievances.

As it was generally understood, that Captain Wilmot in addition to the Toll property, possessed something considerable, which he had acquired in the shape of prize money, suitors were not wanting to Rose, as soon as she had arrived at the first dawn of womanhood. Many advantageous offers were made to her, but she declined them all; for her feelings were not interested, and her father had too much regard for her society, to look forward to the period of her marriage with any thing like impatience. Rose accordingly, continued to lead a single life, and she actually attained to her nineteenth year, without having experienced the slightest symptoms of the tender passion.

Things were not, however, to he thus for ever. It was at the close of a September day, that a party, which had assembled near the Toll, for the purpose of celebrating, by a sort of fete champètre, the sixty-ninth birth

day of Captain Wilmot, deemed it prudent to take shelter against a threatened thunder-storm, under his hospitable roof. The rain had begun to fall in torrents, and the first flash of lightning had passed, when a loud knocking at the outer gate gave notice that others besides themselves, were in need of shelter. The signal being answered, there was ushered in the parlour a person arrayed in the garb of a sportsman, of whom nobody present knew any thing, but who entered with that air of perfect self-command, which, widely removed from impertinent assurance, can be assumed only by the man of fashion and the gentleman. His age appeared to be about six or seven-and-twenty; he was remarkably handsome; had a fine, open, manly, expressive countenance, and, altogether, impressed the little party with a persuasion, that he was at least, qualified to remain among them as an equal. He apologised for having disturbed the privacy of a family circle, by stating, that he happened to be sporting in the fields adjoining when the storm overtook him; and the apology being readily received, he speedily took part in the conversation, as if he came an unexpected and welcome guest. Being pressed to partake of their evening meal, he did not decline the invitation; and the moon was shining bright in a cloudless sky, when he rose to depart. Nor did he go unregretted. In the course of one short and accidental visit, he contrived to make himself so agreeable to his new acquaintance, that the Captain permitted him not to retire, till after he had given a promise that no great while should elapse, ere his visit was repeated.

The gentleman, whom accident had thus introduced to the family at the Toll, was the Honourable Major Elliot. commanding officer of theregiment of foot, at that time quartered in the neighbouring barracks. Being a keen sportsman, he spent much of his time in the fields; and, as he afterwards confessed, had seen and admired Rose, at times, and in situations, when she little dreamed of being an object of curiosity to a stranger. He

had now seen her under circumstances which enabled him to judge whether impressions, made by his former stolen glimpses were justifiable; and his behaviour soon gave proof, that he did thus regard it. Major Elliot was not forgetful of his promise. He repeated his calls at the Toll, not sooner, certainly, than his company was desired, but, as certainly, a great deal sooner than it might have been expected. He called again and again urged to stay dinner, and he stayed. In short, his visits became in a very little while, every-day occurrences; and, before a month had expired, he offered himself to be the husband of Rose.

It has been stated, that in Rose's disposition, there was just so much of romance, as to give a peculiar zest to the ordinary occurrences of common life. Such an occurrence it surely was, to be addressed in the language of love; but to experience those sensations which her lover described, was, to her, new and delightful. For, in truth, Rose had fixed her affections upon Major Elliot, irretrievably and inevitably, many days before his words, at least, justified her in so doing. They had met under circumstances so peculiar; he was, in his habits, ideas, language, and taste, so different from other men with whom she was wont to associate, that, if ever love did occur at first sight, it must be allowed to have occurred with her. Rose had no dissimulation about her; she did not therefore, pretend to an indifference, which she felt not; but, referring Elliot to her father, frankly acknowledged, that as far as she was concerned no obstacle would be throw in the way of their union.

Captain Wilmot was a plain honest man; a gentleman by profession and descent, and too honourable himself to suspect others of being otherwise. He was not, therefore, so minute in his inquiries respecting the circumstances of Major Elliot, as a greater degree of prudence or knowledge of the world might have led him to be. From the Major's brother officers, he learned, that the lover of his daughter was a brave and good soldier; the army-list assured him, that he was, truly, the

son of an Earl; and, as the individual himself never professed to be rich; as he avowed, on the contrary, that his portion was but slender, and that there was no other probability of its being increased, except by promotion in the army; Captain Wilmot saw no ground for suspicion. He freely gave his consent to the proposed marriage, and freely received Elliot into his house, on the footing of a future sonin-law.

The faith of the lovers had been but a short time plighted, when among many other little pledges of unalterable affection, the Major presented Rose with a beautiful Arab pony. The animal, as a matter of course, became a a prodigous favourite with its mistress. It was gentle and tractable, not only permitting her to mount with the most perfect safety, but coming to her call, and eating pieces of bread from her hand. Upon it, she was in the habit of daily riding abroad with her lover; and, truly, it would be a hard matter to discover a pair more lovely, or more manifestly formed for each other than Rose and her pony.

Such was, now the order of the lovers' existence; and time appeared, at last, to fly on in that state of holy and pure enjoyment, which never fails to accompany the progress of an honourable attachment.

But "the course of true love never did run smooth," as poor Rose soon found to her cost. The wedding-day was now but one short week distant, when Rose, who had agreed to meet Elliot, half way between the barracks and the Toll, set out, one morning, unattended, upon her Arab. Having reached the place of rendezvous, and finding, that Elliot had not yet arrived, she determined to ride on a little farther; she accordingly, proceeded, almost unconsciously, though full of apprehension, she knew not why, till, at last, the barracks themselves lay before her. Observing that troops were on the parade, her delicacy would not allow her to approach nearer; so she reined in her little steed, and partly concealing herself behind the branches of a tree, she resolved to wait there, till the soldiers

should be dismissed.

In the meanwhile, the battalion formed itself into a hollow square; a piece of timber, of a triangular shape, was erected in the midst of it. All was now silence; and Elliot, mounted upon a black charger, took his station without the ranks. A moment or two had only passed, when there came, from a part of the building, a guard of soldiers, conducting a man handcuffed, and arrayed in an undress, towards the battalion. This last body had hardly entered the square, when a wild shriek, and in a woman's voice, struck upon Rose's ear. A female, at the same instant, rushed from one of the houses, with hair dishevelled, and garments disordered; she held up her clasped hands, and falling down upon her knees, hefore Elliot's horse, seemed to urge some petition, with all the energy of profound grief. But Elliot, turned away from her, and rode within the ranks. The woman rose, uttered another wild scream, and began to tear her hair; when suddenly, as it would appear, her eyes fell upon Rose, and she ran towards her. Rose trembled exceedingly: "Oh, Lady," cried the woman, franticly seizing Rose's bridle; "Lady, surely, Heaven has heard my prayer, and sent you hither!-Save him! For the love of God, save him! I know you have only to speak the word, and it will be done."-" Save whom my good woman?" replied Rose, deeply affected. "Whom am I to save? and from whom am I to save him?" "My husband! My husband?" exclaimed the unhappy petitioner, now dropping upon her knees; "Save him from the lash! They are about to flog him for a fault which he never committed - He never did it, lady!-Indeed, indeed, he did not!-0, lady save him! I know the Major can refuse you nothing, speak for him good lady, and God will bless you for it!"

Rose was quite overcome, and burst into tears. "Heaven's blessings be upon those dear eyes!" cried the soldier's wife, as Rose put her pony to the speed, and made towards the square. But there was no need to enter it; Elliot saw, and flew towards

her. "Rose," cried he, reining up his horse, when they met, "this is no place for you. Go, my love, go from the ground; you cannot stay to witness what is going forward."-"Nay, Elliot," replied she; "I will not go. I beseech you not to hurt that poor woman's husband.-He is innocent, he must be innocent! Indeed, indeed, I cannot go, till you promise me, that he shall not be punished!"

"You know not what you ask, Rose," rejoined Elliot. "Believe me, love! I am not cruel; I would not willingly injure a hair of his head. But the man is a criminal; he has been found guilty by a court-martial, and discipline must be preserved. I would refuse you nothing, and that you know, which I could grant consistently with my honour; but you would not have me sacrifice that?"-"No, Elliot, I would not have you sacrifice your honour; for that is dearer to me than life but what is there dishonourable in pardoning even a guilty fellowcreature? Is it not the noblest use we can make of power? Oh, Elliot, remember how much we ourselves stand in need of pardon! And, as you hope to be forgiven your own sins, forgive the offences of this criminal. Look to his wife, dear Elliot, and think what I should feel were her and my situation reversed." "Rose, you have prevailed;" answered the Major; "but in truth, I wish it had been otherwise, you have exposed us both. But, yet, I will do as you desire, and follow you." So saying, he turned his horse, and galloped to the square.

As to Rose, her very brain swam round. True she had performed a humane action, and, for that, her conscience rewarded her; but she had hurt, or offended, Elliot; and even an approving conscience was incapable of compensating for that. Besides, had she not, in some degree, overstepped the line of female delicacy, in appearing before a parade of soldiers, and openly exerting her influence over their commanding officer. Such

re

the thoughts which flitted across her mind, as she rode leisurely towards her home; but she was not suffered to pass thus. The noise of persons running

was behind her; and, in a moment, the woman and her husband were at her side. "That is the lady, Will," cried the poor wife; "that is she that saved you. Bless her, Will., thank her and bless her, as she deserves !""I cannot thank you, as you deserve, young lady." said the man, but Heaven will reward you. Ay, and even I may yet do you service. Lady have a care of what you are about. I have seen you often, where I would not see you again; and have heard of you, what must not be again spoken. Farewell, lady! Your goodness shall not go unrequited; but beware of-"

The soldier looked as if he were about to give utterance to something of great importance, when his speech was interrupted by the coming up of Major Elliot. "Begone, sir!" said the Major, addressing the man, in a tone more harsh and authoritative than appeared, to Rose, to be requisite. "Begone, to your quarters; and take care how you get into a scrape again. There may not always be a friend at hand to save you." The man touched the point of his foraging cap, and, casting an anxious glance at Rose, walked away.

"What was that fellow saying?" asked Elliot, in a tone of voice which indicated not only a considerable degree of agitation, but an evident desire that the agitation should not be observed. "Nothing," replied Rose; at least, nothing which is worth repeating. He only thanked me for having pleaded in his favour. But he might have said something worthy of being listened to," added she, with a smile, "had you not sent him away abruptly." "Indeed!" replied the Major; "and to what might the communication tend, which I unfortunately interrupted?"-"That," answered Rose,: "I cannot tell; I only know, that the broken sentence was one of caution; but whether against people or things, or witches, or hob-goblins, you gave me no opportunity to discover." "Humph!" said Elliot.

(TO BE CONTINUED.)