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Just as she finished this mournful song, which I had not heard without deep emotion, we neared her; and Ellen, parting her hair as before, looked earnestly and wildly at us. “ Lord Glenmullen,” said she, pointing with one hand to the castle below her, “thy love is there; but blood will flow before thou gain her-go on to victory."
We dashed towards the castle, and at its entrance were met by Sir Bagnall Moncey and Sir Alexander Gore. Lionel instantly demanded the surrender of Lady Emily. 66 She is here,” said he, so neither hesitation nor evasion will serve you now.”—“I pledge you my sacred honour," replied Sir Bagnall, “ that I am not concerned in this affair, and that Lady Emily is not here.”. “ It is false, and you are a villain," was Lord Glenmullen's answer, which Sir Bagnall would have repelled with a blow, but for prompt interference. “ Here are pistols,” continued Lionel ; “ instantly take your ground.”
Leaving our party, Lionel and I retired into the glen with Sir Bagnall Moncey and Sir Alexander Gore, where, distance having been measured, and the parties opposed in hostile attitude, the signal of death was given. At once we heard the mutual report, and saw Ellen's winding-sheet enveloping Sir Bagnall's body. We found him stretched, as we thought, lifeless on the ground, with Ellen on his bosom. His ball had grazed Lord Glenmullen's body, but Lionel's had entered Sir Bagnall's chest, and passed through the lungs, producing a vast effusion of blood. It had evidently been the intention of poor Ellen to receive the shot in her own person, but she was a moment behind time, and now lay senseless from exhaustion and overwrought feeling.
Here my tale may end; for I need not inform you that Lionel found his Emily. Their meeting must be left for the pencil of imagination to sketch. Sir Bagnall Moncey had used every means, but personal force, to make Emily his own ; and it is probable that, if uninterrupted, he would have accomplished his vile purposes in the course of a few days by the foulest means; for almost every thing is possible to a man who acts on the mottonil desperandum.
In like manner, I inust leave to imagination the joy of Lord Conamore on recovering his daughter ;
the pride of Lady Constantia, on finding that her niece was to be a Countess ; the busy importance of Dr. Seymour, on having the life of Sir Harry Bagnall in his hands; the rapture of Earl Balcarrick, on embracing such a son as Lionel, and such a daughter-in-law as Emily; and last, although not least, the hop, step, and jump of Peter Prentice, as he moved about preparing for the wedding entertainment on the lawn to his friends of the mountain. As for the rapture of Lionel and Emily, when you
have surmounted difficulties, and stand in the temple of Hymen, you will understand it.
On that blessed and beautiful summer day which made Emily Lionel's own, Conamore was a gay
Bells were ringing, guns were firing, flags were flying, labour stood still, and pleasure was on tip-toe. At night all the hills were in a blaze, and echo could not slumber. In short, Lionel and Emily were happy, and Lord Conamore is now a grandfather.
Be it also remembered, that under the care of Dr. Seymour, the famous physician and antiquary of Conamore, Sir Bagnall Moncey recovered
the use of his lungs, and rewarded the love of Ellen Hamilton, by making her the lady of Moncey Hall, where she is now an ornament of society, and a blessing to the poor.
THE STAGE COACH.
Now there is nothing gives a man such spirits,
Leavening his blood as Cayenne doth a curry,
I HAVÈ long ceased to wonder at the seemingly idle crowd that collects around our stage coaches, as they come into a country town. It is a fine sight to see one of these leathern conveniences, as the Quakers call them, whirl along at eight miles an hour, the guard playing some favourite tune on his Kent-bugle, and every turn of the road revealing its nearer approach, loaded with passengers. There is so much of life and motion in the sight-so much to excite curiosity—to gratify speculation-so much that is congenial to human sympathy and feeling, that it would surprise me greatly if men passed on without taking an interest in the busy scene,