THE DANGEROUS INCIDENT.

An EXTRACT from the Novel of
SANTO SEBASTIANO; or, the

YOUNG PROTECTOR.

JULIA daily continued her equestrian attempts, sometimes attended by lord St. Orville, with either lord Delamore or Mr. Temple; and she benefited so much by their instructions, at she soon lost all her fears, and became so good a horse-woman, that lady Theodosia, at length obtained permission from her father to join the party from which she had been excluded, lest her dauntless pranks might terrify the timid Julia.

One most lovely and inviting morning, lady Theodosia, Julia, and lord St. Orville, with their attendants, were returning, after an unusually extended ride, when, entering on the downs, upon the summit of the cliffs, near Delamore castle, their ears were suddenly assailed by the full cry of a pack of hounds, and the shouts of the huntsmen hallooing to them, as if at fault. They were lord Delamore's hounds, taken down to the beach to bathe; and the dogs not liking the business, they, with their attendants, made a violent uproar, as if in full chase.

Swiftsure was unfortunately the most famous hunter in Lord Delambre's stud; perfectly well he knew the voices of the hounds and huntsmen; and out at full speed he darted, to the verge of the precipice, following the direction of the cry of the hounds. Julia's companions, with the attendants, saw with dismay the imminence of her peril, nay, the inevitability of her destruction. To follow her, with a hope of overtaking, and reining-in, the high-mettled cour

ser, would have only been to accelerate her doom. They saw her firmly keep her seat; but without power to curb her steed. Lord St. Orville, ever collected in the moment of danger, and mounted on a horse nearly two bands higher than Swiftsure, darted like the forked lightning's flash to an angle from Julia; and then, with an exertion scarcely human, to the point he saw Swiftsure making for. Only in time he arrived to snatch at the bridle: the check was sufticient; but in doing it, the exertion was so great, as to pull lord St. Orville off his own horse, and to strain, every muscle in his arm. With almost frantic rapidity he snatched our heroine from her saddle, and only tottered with her a few paces from the verge, when the coved bank on which Swiftsure stood (now in submissive meekness) fell in, and the underwood beneath, entangling his bridle and mane, only saved him from destruction.

Terror at her impending danger, and joy and gratitude at her almost miraculous rescue, deprived Julia of every power of articulation; and, pale as death, from which she had just, by one hair's breadth, escaped, she remained trembling in the supporting arms of lord St. Orville, who stood gazing at his almost senseless charge in agitation which foils our feeble ability to describe, and with as little power to speak as she had; but, like a true woman, her faculties of speech resumed their function first, and softly she said

'Oh, lord St. Orville! but for Heaven and you'..... Her oppressed sensibility allowed her to add no more, for an abundant flow of tears suspended her power of articulation; but, even in this

short sentence, her voice recalled his amazed senses, and restored his utterance.

You-you are safe!' he ex

claimed.

Safe, and unhurt,' she said. One of the sweetest siniles that ever animated the face of mortal, now diffused itself over the countenance of lord St. Orville, as he fell at the feet of Julia, in a deathlike swoon.

The almost distracted lady Theodosia, with the terrified attendants, now assembled round the shrieking Julia, who had instantaneously sunk on the ground beside her preserver, taken off his hat, and applied her salts to his nose. His not less agitated sister now kneeling by him, opened his waistcoat, snatched off his neckcloth, and hastening to unbutton the collar of his shirt, she, in her trepidation, twitched out of his bosom a black ribbon, to which was suspended, and now made its unbidden appearance, a gold heart.Had a Viper darted from his breast it could not have more appalled, or amazed, our heroine.

This mis-shapen and, clumsy locket, the only trinket our heroine then possessed, she had given, with a lock of her hair, to lady Storamond; first engraving, with the point of her scissors, Julia... Adelaide,' upon it. The ill-formed heart, the singular beading round it, with her own well-remembered performance, left her no room to doubt its identity; and that lady Storamond had given him this, her little pledge of friendship (which she had received with a countenance so expressive of genuine pleasure, and had, unsolitedly, promised to retain for ever as one of her heart's inost fondlycherished treasures), now pained

her bosom with the most poignant pang she had ever experienced, and filled her heart with anguish, in the conviction this gift presented, that lord St. Orville was beloved by lady Storamond, and that her hitherto immaculate friend was, perhaps-oh, horror of horrors!a faithless wife!

Tears now ran in torrents down poor Julia's cheeks; and convulsive sobs agitated her heaving bosom. Lord St. Orville's groom had brought his hat full of water from a neighbouring spring; and Swiftsure's groom had summoned the huntsmen, with several fishermen, who, accustomed to clambering the cliffs, fastened cables round the poor panting, almost exhausted, animal's body, and at length succeeded in drawing him up, safe, and scarcely hurt.

At length lord St. Orville evinc ed symptoms of returning respiration; and, to the joy of all who surrounded him, in a few moments more opened his eyes, when the first object they rested upon was--Julia: and, though still so faint as to be scarcely able to articulate, he eagerly demanded the cause of her tears.

Oh!' said lady Theodosia, it is your illness; for that has frightened and affected her more than her own danger.'

But I am now well, quite well,' exclaimed his lordship; a bright tiut of vermilion flushing his before pallid countenance and he made an effort to rise, but the attempt was vain: his right arm could afford him no assistance; and the torture he unwarily put it to, in his endeavour to rise, made him shrink and change colour.

Oh! no, no, no!' subbed out Julia, you are not, at all, well. You are severely, much hurt!

Your arm is.....OHeaven! what to your arm, has happened?—Alas! alas! and I am the cause of such great pain for you!'

Oh! speak! speak, Alfred!' exclaimed lady Theodosia, in new raised terror. Tell me, are you hurt-what, what ails your arm? is any thing broken? where is the mischief?'

In my heart,' he replied, in a tone of despondence, so touching, it vibrated through every chord of /pity; still gazing at Julia, as if unconscious of what he had articulated, or of any thing but mental misery.

He is delirious!' said lady Theodosia, bursting into tears; which aroused her brother.-'What ails my sister?' he demanded, tenderly.

Oh, Alfred!' she replied, 'yon talk wildly, and tell me not where you are hurt.-I know your arm is. fractured.'

My dear Theodosia ! do not so unnecessarily alarm yourself.-My arm is strained a little, I perceive; but no bone is broken, be assured.' • Then, then, to Heaven, may I make my best thanks for escape so miraculous; since it has not, too dear, been purchased, by the great misery, of inflicting calamity, for you;' said Julia, raising her streaming eyes to heaven, with one of the sweetest looks that pious gratitude ever wore: and lord St. Orville, with quickness, threw his hurt arm around his sister's neck. She heard a deep sigh break from his bosom; and, as he kissed her, in almost convulsive agitation, she felt his tears bedew her cheek.

Oh, St. Orville! you are séverely hurt, I fear!' she exclaimed, in a tone of affectionate solicitude.

Alas!' cried Julia, starting to

6

her feet, and nothing we do, fot striving, to make, relief.' She now, once more, made a sling of a silk handkerchief, which she gently tied around his lordship's neck; when, turning pale as death, and shuddering, she exclaimed Alas! I did hurt you! though all my possible I did, to gently tie it. I did hope, to make ease of your pain: but I did not, for I felt you to shrink, from my touch, and tremb led beneath my hand, though so light, it was.'

Oh! softly articulated lord St. Orville, this is too, too much to bear!'

Lady Theodosia gave a shriek of sympathy, exclaiming, What can be done!' And Julia looked upon him with the tearful eye of tender pity, and painfully wounded gratitude.

Lord St. Orville now seemed, by one great struggle for firmness, to have regained it. He smiled benignly, entreated them to compose themselves: The pain of my arm is trifling; indeed it is!' he said. The terror miss De Clifford's danger naturally created, has affected my spirits, and made a very coward of me: and though it is possible I may appear subdued all day, believe not the pain of my arm occasions it.'

The men who were now all ga thered round him, to know how they could be serviceable, were anxious to go for a surgeon, and a carriage; but this, lord St. Orville would not hear of. he said, would only create alarm at the castle; and Beville would be surgeon sufficient for his case.'

The latter,”

His lordship now, leaning on the an of his groom, set forward to the castle; attended by his sister, and our heroine, whose sensations of gratitude were as powerful as the

magnitude of her danger had been, and the imuninence of the peril her gallant deliverer had exposed himself to for her preservation.

From lord St. Orville's sprain it was impossible to avoid disclosing the cause of it; and, though cautiously told, it dreadfully agitated both lord and lady Delamore. The former vehemently swore Swiftsure should be shot for it!' and instantly sent expresses round the country, to summon every surgeon within twenty miles of the castle to come and prescribe for lord St. Orville's arm.

Julia, lord St. Orville, and the almost weeping groom, pleaded so eflectually for poor Swiftsure, that his lord forgave and reinstated him in his favour.

Whether it was that too many doctors could do as much mischief as too many cooks, lord St. Orville had a most restless night; and for the first few hours after he retired to bed was quite delirious, full of direful fancies, awakened by the occurrence of the day-one moment believing Julia had been dashed to pieces down the cliffs, and raving of precipitating himself after her; the next, in piteous cadences, murmuring something unintelligible to all around him (except poor Leslie) about Julia, lady Storamond, and Fitzroy; often declaring, with vehemence, no perfidious friend should wrest his locket from him; which, in these moments, he held fast grasped in his hand, and kissed incessantly. His afflicted mother, seated by his pillow, heard, all this; and the frequent mention of lady Storamond, and the perfidious friend, whom she concluded to be lord Storamond, spoke daggers of conviction to her maternal feelings of

her son's happiness being gone for

ever.

Julia did not pass her night in delirium, but in tears, for a newlyawakened grief, in addition to that her gratitude to lord St. Orville inspired for his sufferings.-Her youthful heart had consecrated an idol of perfection in its inmost recesses, which all the virtues of her bosom had long devoutly worshiped, and every feeling of her mind had led her on to emulate; and this idol, she feared, alas! was frail. And now, more bitter were her tears of grief, more poignant her sighs, than even the sad transgression of Fitzroy had occasioned; until, as she dwelt on the torturing belief, Hope took from her affliction, by still whispering to her heart, that the locket was gift, but purloined, by the secret lover, merely because it was Cecilia's;' for sure, and still more sure, she was, from every new recollection of her friend, that lady Storamond could not err.

no.

The day after Julia's providential escape lord St. Orville became, from the decrease of his fever, gradually better; and, in a few days more, was able to go into his mother's boudoir, where she entreated our heroine to be as much as possible with her, and to aid her in amusing St. Orville.

Alas! said, lady Delamore, how is time changed, when I dread nothing more than being left alone with my darling child!-my heart is then on my lips, and I am ready, each moment, to question him relative to his mental misery; but I know it would pain him, and therefore I am anxious to forbear.'

Julia, in compliance with lady Delamore's wishes, and actuated

by her own gratitude, spent most of her time in her ladyship's boudoir, exerting her various talents for the amusement of lord St. Orville, attending to him like an affectionate sister: but, to her utter grief and mortification, she found her exertions all were vain; for the more she rallied her powers to entertain his lordship, the more touchingly melancholy he became; and Julia felt convinced, at length, that it was her known friendship for lady Storamond, by awakening tender remembrances, that caused such gloomy effects.

One day, as Julia was left alone with this most amiable and interesting young man, he handed her a letter, and said, whilst his frame and countenance evinced powerful agitation

This, I fervently hope, miss De Clifford, will totally contradict the calumny of lady Selina; and convince you, that Fitzroy and I, still, are friends. He reverts, with too much feeling, to our late little coolness; and appreciates too

Fitzroy considered himself as the aggressor, and was grateful, in a high degree, for lord St. Orville's restored friendship. With a blush and smile she returned the letter to his lordship, who received it with a hand so tremulous, that it both surprised and grieved her.

Lord Delamore, lady Theodosia, and Mr. Temple, were constant and attentive visitors in lady Delamore's boudoir, during lord St. Orville's confinement there; and sir Charles Stratton was as kind as the duty of a lover permitted him to be:-Lady Selina exacted great and unremitting attendance; and never once went near her brother: and poor sir Charles, as the time drew nearer for his nuptials, became every hour more sad and wretched; for bitterly now he repented those follies which had precipitated him into this detested alliance.

WINTER AT PARIS.

but, as the aggressor'-here lord St. Orville's pale countenance was suddenly diffused with the brightest tint of crimson, and his voice became more unsteady-it was my duty to do so: and when you read, you must believe it is the generosity of his heart that leads him thus to estimate my nothing more than negative merit.'

With heartfelt pleasure Julia read a letter, which convinced her that Fitzroy had done nothing per fidious, nothing dishonourable, or he would not thus be retaken to the friendship of lord St. Orville; and, in despite of his lordship's depreciating what he had done, in seeking the reconciliation, she saw

lication.]

ADIEU, fine weather!" Adiea to the country !-The sun deserts us, the cold increases, the season becomes dull and rainy; the orange trees are put back into the greenhouses, the trees lose their verdure, the gardens are spoiled of their attractions. The public walks are deserted. Winter is set in.Winter at Paris begins early, and ceases late. It encroaches six weeks upon Autumn, and six upon Spring: so that it may be said to last six months, or one half the year! This is a long time. It ought not, however, seriously to distress us. This long and melan