after a short struggle, he succeeded in repressing his feelings, and merely told his successful rival, sternly, that he did not consider himself responsible to him for his conduct, and should therefore decline entering into any explanation.

Ichabod passed out at the front door, and was about retracing his steps toward the Black Swan, when Sam Renwick, whose combative propensities seemed to have been marvellously excited, sprang forward, and seized the young sailor by the collar, at the same time declaring with an oath, that he would have an apology, and that one was also due to the lady whom he had insulted.

Ichabod indignantly shook off his rival's grasp, as if contamination lurked in his touch; but his teeth were set, and his hand was firmly clenched, as with a tone of assumed mildness, he told him that he was always ready to apologise to a gentleman, when he was wrong; and to a lady, whether he was right or wrong; but that he owed no apology to him, Sam Renwick, and advised him as a friend, to return to the house, and suffer him to pursue his in peace. Ichabod, with a magnanimity not often equalled, wished to avoid a personal contest with the accepted suitor of the woman he had loved.

way

But Sam Renwick, who began to suspect that Ichabod was deficient in courage, and who had

long owed the handsome sailor a grudge, was determined upon a fight. He told Ichabod, in a voice loud with passion, that if he would not apologise, there was no more to be said; and he should proceed to give him a sound threshing forthwith. He accordingly threw himself into an attitude, and made a blow at our hero, which might have incommoded him somewhat, provided it had taken effect; but Ichabod, who was no novice in the art of self-defence, caught the blow adroitly on his left arm, and forgetting his respect for Barbara's destined husband, returned it with all the force of his muscular right arm. The blow took full effect upon the nasal protuberance, which is always seen jutting forth in the centre of a well-regulated visage, and the absence of which is generally regarded by the fastidious, as fatal to personal beauty. The goodly promontory on Sam Renwick's face was nearly demolished; he was thrown some paces backwards, with surprising velocity, as if he had been ejected from a huge catapulta, such as the Romans used with which to batter down the forts of their enemies, and fell with violence to the ground! Ichabod knew that the poor fellow had not received any injury which would endanger his life, and passed quietly on his way towards the Black Swan, having left with his quarrelsome rival, as a wedding present, a flattened nose, and two magnificent black-eyes.

Ichabod that evening visited his kind relations, but declined their pressing invitations to tarry some weeks, or even days, at their hospitable abode. The next morning he took the stage-coach, on his return to Boston. As the stage passed along the road which winded around the base of Primrose Hill, he thought of Barbara Howard. "This is her wedding day," said he, "but it is impossible that her marriage with that worthless fellow should prove happy. I am mistaken in his character, if he does not turn out to be a spendthrift and a drunkard; a disgrace and a plague to all who are so unhappy as to be connected with him, by ties of duty or relationship. Barbara, I much fear, has made a foolish choice, and is destined to weep the bitter tears of regret, for the course which she has pursued."

It was about twelve years after the events which I have recorded in the last chapter of this tale, that a handsome chaise, drawn by a spirited horse,

was seen, one gloomy afternoon in November, ascending a gentle eminence which overlooked the town of Allensville. In the chaise was seated a good-looking gentleman, apparently in the prime of life. His features bore the impress of kindness and intelligence; an air of thoughtfulness sat not ungracefully upon his brow; and his bronzed complexion denoted that he had been a wanderer in other climes. This traveler was Ichabod Allen. Since I last introduced him to my readers, he had visited many distant countries, and had passed through a variety of adventures by sea and by land. But he had always been honest, prudent, and industrious, and success had crowned his undertakings. For several years he had commanded and in part owned a fine ship belonging to a southern port; he was respected for his probity and energy of character; and had accumulated a handsome property. He had never married. The image of Barbara Howard, whose bewitching charms had caught his youthful fancy, was deeply engraven on his heart too deeply to be obliterated, even by the hand of Time. She had deceived him; had wounded his affections, had mortified his pride; but he had determined never to be again deceived by woman, and seldom sought the company of the sex. Thus influenced by disappointment in life's early morn, he devoted himself to his

business, and relinquished one of the purest and most exquisite enjoyments which this world affords, the society of intelligent and virtuous woman.

Ichabod knew but little of what had taken place at Allensville for a number of years. He had heard that Sam Renwick and Barbara Howard were wedded, and he sought to learn no more. Letters from his friends had informed him of the death of his uncle Timothy, and of the subsequent sale of the estate, and the removal of his aunt and a portion of the family, to a town on the Penobscot river.

Captain Allen sold his ship, and determined to abandon a nautical life. He settled his business at the South, and returned to Boston, with an intention to engage in commercial pursuits. The sight of the well-remembered wharves; of State Street, with its crowds of merchants and busy speculators; of the Common, and the State House, all forcibly conjured up the remembrance of former times, when everything around him wore a roseate hue; when his heart, cheered by hope, was the abode of joy and gladness. He thought of Allensville; and, a few days after he returned, he resolved to indulge a whim, which had suddenly seized him, to revisit once more the place where he had passed some of the happiest hours of his life; a place where he had also been compelled to drink the