the voices of the company. The parson was silent, and by a natural consequence his echo, the schoolmaster, was silent also: none of the others felt disposed to say any thing. The meeting was like an assemblage of Quakers. At one side of the fire sat the plump parson, with the tankard in one hand, and the other placed upon his forehead, as in deep meditation. At the opposite side sat the schoolmaster, puffing vehemently from a tobacco-pipe. In the centre was the exciseman, having at his right hand the jolly form of the landlady, and at his left the Man in Red; the landlord stood at some distance behind. For a time the whole, with the exception of the stranger, were engaged in anxious thought. The one looked to the other with wondering glances, but, though all equally wished to speak, no one liked to be the first to open the conversation. . Who can this man be?' 'What does he want here?' Where is he from, and whither is he bound?' Such were the inquiries which occupied every mind. Had the object of their curiosity been a brown man, a black man, or even a green man, there would have been nothing extraordinary; and he might have entered the inn and departed from it as unquestioned as before he came. But to be a Red Man! There was in this something so startling that the lookers-on were beside themselves with amazement The first to break this strange silence was the parson. Sir,' said he, we have been thinking that you

are

That I am a conjurer, a French spy, a travelling packman, or something of the sort,' observed the stranger. Doctor Poundtext started back on his chair, and well he might; for these words, which the Man in Red had spoken, were the very ones he himself was about to utter.

'Who are you, sir?' resumed he, in manifest perturbation. What is your name?'

My name,' replied the other, is Reid.'

And where, in heaven's name, were you born?" demanded the astonished parson.

VOL. 11. Dec. 1829.

2 B

I was born on the borders of the Red Sea.' Doctor Poundtext had not another word to say. The schoolmaster was equally astounded, and withdrew the pipe from his mouth that of the exciseman dropped to the ground: the landlord groaned aloud, and his spouse held up her hands in mingled astonishment and awe.

After giving them this last piece of information, the strange man arose from his seat, broke his pipe in pieces, and pitched the fragments into the fire; then, throwing his long cloak carelessly over his shoulders, putting his hat upon his head, and loading himself with his boots, his whip, and his portmanteau, he desired the landlord to show him to his bed, and left the kitchen, after smiling sarcastically to its inmates, and giving them a familiar and unceremonious nod.

His disappearance was the signal for fresh alarm in the minds of those left behind. Not a word was said till the return of the innkeeper, who in a short time descended from the bed room over-head, to which he had conducted his guest. On re-entering the kitchen, he was encountered by a volley of interrogations. The parson, the schoolmaster, the exciseman, and his own wife, questioned him over and over again. Who was the man in red!-he must have seen him before--he must have heard of him-in a word, he must know something about him.' The host protested that he never beheld the stranger till that hour; it was the first time he had made his appearance at the Black Swan, and, so help him God, it should be the last!' 'Why don't you turn him out?' exclaimed the exciseman.

If you think you are able to do it, you are heartily welcome,' replied the landlord. For my part, I have no notion of coming to close quarters with the shank of his whip, or his great, red, sledge-hammer fist.' This was an irresistible argument, and the proposer of forcible ejectment said no more upon the subject.

At this time the party could hear the noise of heavy footsteps above them. They were those of the Red

Man, and sounded with slow and measured tread. They listened for a quarter of an hour longer, in expectation that they would cease. There was no pause: the steps continued, and seemed to indicate that the person was amusing himself by walking up and down

the room.

Had there been any relaxation, any pause, any increase, or any diminution, of rapidity in the footsteps, they would have been endurable; but there was no such thing. The same deadening, monotonous, stupifying sound continued, like clockwork, to operate incessantly above their heads. Nor was there any abatement of the storm without; the wind blowing among the trees of the cemetery in a sepulchral moan; the rain beating against the panes of glass with the impetuous loudness of hail; and lightning and thunder flashing and pealing at brief intervals throngh the murky firmament. The noise of the elements was indeed frightful, and it was heightened by the voice of the sable steed like that of a spirit of darkness; but the whole, as we have just hinted, was as nothing to the deep, solemn, mysterious treading of the Red Man.

At this time the clock of the steeple struck the hour of midnight, and the tread of the stranger suddenly ceased. There was a pause for some minutes-afterwards a rustling-then a noise as of something drawn along the floor of his room. In a moment thereafter his door opened; then it shut with violence, and heavy footsteps were heard trampling down the stair. The inmates of the kitchen shook with alarm as the tread came nearer. They expected every moment to behold the Red Man enter, and stand before them in his native character. The landlady fainted outright: the exciseman followed her example: the landlord gasped in an agony of terror: and the schoolmaster uttered a pious ejaculation for the behoof of his soul. Doctor Poundtext was the only one who preserved any degree of composure. He managed, in a trembling voice, to

་

call out Avaunt, Satan! I exorcise thee from hence to the bottom of the Red Sea !'

I am going as fast as I can,' said the stranger, as he passed the kitchen-door on his way to the open air, and immediately calling for his horse he mounted him, waved his hand, and galloped off furiously. On going up to the room which he had honoured with his presence, the landlord discovered, that instead of the devil he had been visited by-a thief! Since that time he has not been seen in these quarters, and if he should, he will do well to beware of Doctor Poundtext, who is a civil magistrate as well as a minister.

STANZAS.

I STOOD upon a lofty cliff,
And gaz'd upon the ocean,
And as its sun-lit waters roll'd
Beneath with deep emotion;

"Tis thus,' methought, the youthful breast

Reflects the light of heaven,

But easily by sudden gales

Its placidness is riven.'

A barque I saw, its snowy sails

Were on the breezes swelling,

And voice of harp and lute were there,
Love's softest language telling;

But soon the music died, the barque
Itself in distance faded,

'Tis thus the feelings-dreams of youth
In after years are shaded.

The sun had set, and tho' the God

In fairer climes was beaming,

His rays still in the western sky
Were gloriously streaming;
Then be my life like thine, oh! sun,
One bright, bright day of glory,
And when 'tis past, may I retain
A place in after-story.

K.

THE SPRING AT CLIFDEN.

A SKETCH.

And Clifden *****

The bower of wanton Shrewsbury and Love. Pope. FROM where the father of our rivers bubbles a petty fountain, to where he mingles with the mighty ocean, there is not a more beautiful spot than the one which forms the subject of the present sketch.

The man of learning may view with respect the scenes of his scholastic honours, the turrets which frown over the rippling Isis-the statesman may venerate the regal towers of Windsor, the scene of many a courtly revel, the grave of many a mighty monarch; while the crowded marts of the metropolis may offer to the merchant a charm more potent than either; but for the harmless enjoyments of youth, or the repose of age-the merry dance, the sober walk, the lovera' tête-à-tête, or the picnic party, Clifden presents attractions more alluring than all.

A bank of soft turf slopes upward from the river to a cottage ornée, where the simplicity of poverty is mimicked with all the art and taste that riches could command. Many a flower lends its fragrance, many a shrub its beauty, to the favoured spot; while at irregular intervals some antique oak rears its head high above, and as if in scorn of the diminutive plants which flourish around its base. At the feet of the ascending woods, which shelter it alike from the blast and heat, is a small lake, from whose surface the white leaves of the willows, that hang Narcissus-like above the limpid waters, are reflected; an artificial cascade communicates between the lake and the river, and by its sound breaks the stillness of the scene, yet tending rather to soften than disturb the reflections of the visitor.

Tradition assigns this as the scene of the duel between the Earl of Shrewsbury and the Duke of Buckingham, when the wife of the former attended her own paramour, and, as the event proved, her husband's murderer, to the encounter, in the habit of a page. At