danger imminent, which was only remote,-" what would be the hope on which one could rely at such a mo ment?" Captain Fitzelm turned to consider the countenance of their silent and pale companion. "Now would I give something to know the subject of Miss Avondel's contemplation," said he. "May we not," she replied, " rely on a hope high as heaven? on that Being whom magnitude cannot encumber; whom multitude cannot embarrass; whom minuteness cannot escape?" "A very sombre contemplation indeed," said Captain Fitzelm; and with an air half careless, half indifferent, he repeated the dying speech of the emperor Adrian, "Animula, vagula, blandula, Nec (ut soles) dabis jocos." "The author who quotes those lines, records also the reflections on death of a much greater man," replied Edith Avondel; "I mean Cæsar's thoughts on Calphurnia's dream; Be it so then. If I am to die to-morrow, that is what I am to do to-morrow. It will not be then, because I am willing it should be then ; nor shall I escape it, because I am unwilling. It is in the gods when, but in myself how I shall die. If Calphurnia's dreams are fumes of indigestion, how shall I behold the day after to-morrow? If they are from the gods, their admonition is not to prepare me to escape from their decree, but to meet it. I have lived to a fulness of days and of glory what is there that Cæsar has not done with as much glory as ancient heroes? Cæsar has not yet died: Cæsar is prepared to die.” ” "Edith Avondel, are you speaking of death with this indifference ?" de manded Lady Athol; "can you endure to contemplate with calmness the possibility of being within a few hours torn from all we know and cling to; of being plunged into that dark, immeasurable abyss which the imagination cannot fathom, and which the soul cannot view nearly? Death is terrible to the old even, bowed down by the pressure of age, infirmity, and misery what it must be to those who grasp life with all the tenacity of vigorous hope, and the capability of enjoying it?” Edith Avondel replied not. Again her eye rested on the east, and her cheek was paler than usual. There was an expression in her countenance, which seemed to say, that the earliest youth was sufficient to acquaint man with the most insupportable misery ;-there was a look of inquiry directed to heaven, asking, "And if the storm shews forth all its terrors, and if the deep receives me, what hope shall I have lost, what vision of dearest promise will be buried in its abysses? Oh, death, death, not only can I bow to thee without pain, but welcome thee as a deliverer, mighty to save, to elevate me to that unspeakable felicity, the only ark on which my soul can repose." Lady Athol, unable to comprehend the state of Edith Avondel's mind, contemplated her as a miracle of apathy and indifference. For herself, every gathering cloud oppressed her with a thousand terrors; by turns she demanded consolation and food for hope from Edith and Captain Fitzelm, or, overwhelmed by fear, rejected all the soothings which the lat ter offered. At length she suffered herself to be conveyed to her cabin, forgetting in her anxiety after her personal safety, all the projects of aggrandizement and triumph which had, a few moments since, agitated her mind. 25 CHAP. III. " "Tis midnight: eyeless darkness like a blind Draws her foul cloak across the stars, until Shoot like a pain, as on a western hill The setting planet of the night stood still, Just parted from a cloud. No more the blast To tell what wreck and ruin strew'd the shore; ९ LADY ATHOL, once in her cabin, forgot the alarm she had previously felt, in sleep. It was something past midnight, when the shrill note of the boatswain's |