saved his life; but your blessing is a curselay it not on our heads."

66

Oh, no! Bartolemé," cried his wife. "Cast away your cruel thoughts. How can you touch this man while your own child is in his arms? Lay no violence upon him while the child is enjoying a life which he saved. When one is dead, let your oath give his preserver to death also-but not till then!"

"Your words," said Father Francis to Bartolemé, "mean that I have fallen into the hands of the Inquisition. God's will be done!"

The man hesitated for some time, though the stern working of his features indicated all that he was about to say.

"I have hunted for you, heretic, for days and weeks, and now, the Saints know, I would gladly be freed from your presence. She feels no more gratitude for the life of our son than I have felt in my own heart; but she is weaker, and cannot know how solemn, how tremendous, is my obligation to deliver you into the hands of the Holy Office. I had hoped never to see your face; but you have thrust yourself upon me, and I cannot let you escape. I abhor you as a heretic, and for that alone would gladly turn the rack until your bones crack in the agony; but now I would lie upon that rack myself, if you had only kept from my sight. Yet, the Holy Office claims you, and we cannot resist."

"I shall make no useless opposition," said Father Francis. "You need no assistancego on, and I will follow you."

Without another word, Bartolemé strode off,

311

and the priest walked calmly behind him. As they disappeared from sight, the low sobs of the woman were distinctly heard through the cries of her child.

They walked far and rapidly through the whole of that day. The old priest was weary and faint with hunger, but he made no complaint, and Bartolemé was so sternly resolved, so occupied with inner meditations, that he had no thoughts of fatigue. Towards evening they stopped at the nearest city. Before entering, Bartolemé suddenly turned to his companion:

I acted at my own home, when my child was in your arms, and you will now see how I must act in the Inquisition. Hereafter, I am not a man, but a servant of the Holy Office."

Not another word passed between them. After walking some distance in the darkness, passing through doors that had rusted on their hinges, and down flights of stairs slippery with damp and rotten mould, Father Francis was left alone. As the bolt was pushed behind him he took the bandage from his eyes, and found himself in a cell of the Inquisition. (To be continued.)

WHO is there that can look upon our beautiful plate, "Going to School," without a sigh for those many school-boy days now gone forever, and especially for those days when the sleigh-bells jingle in the streets, and the ground is carpeted with its cold white covering. The spirits are then elastic, the mind free from care, and the future is clothed in beauty. Hope then hangs out her beacon-light, and points the way to fortune and to fame. Alas! that these bright hopes are not oftener realized.

SCENE I.

A NOBLE fleet whitened one of Spain's most noted sea-ports. Thirty vessels loitered with flapping sails, impatient to be again gliding across the trackless main. The harbor presented a scene of activity seldom witnessed in those days, when the boldest mariners hardly dared lose sight of the land. Small boats were darting here and there, passing from ship to ship, or moving between the fleet and the shore. Men were hurrying to and fro, and women, too, might be seen mingling in the exciting scene. The shore presented an equally busy and far more imposing spectacle. A crowd lined the quays, and multitudes were still flocking to the place of embarkation. All classes had come forth to witness the grand pageant. It was a sight that never before greeted the eyes of the inhabitants of the Old World. The proud peer and the independent cavalier met and mingled. The debased menial shared alike with his titled master the joyousness of the occasion. Flaunting banners and gay equipages lined the way, while splendidly caparisoned steeds, bestrode by noble riders, pressed forward amid the throng. A joyousness of expectation lighted the countenances of those about to embark; all were in high spirits, for the busy and exciting scene around allowed no time for regret, which indeed none felt but those who were doomed to remain at home.

Another expedition was about to leave the shores of Spain, for the El Dorado which the adventurous Genoese and his hardy crew had discovered at the end of their long and tedious voyage. A new government had been organized in the infant colony at Hispaniola, and the recently invested dignitary was about to embark for the province over which he had been named governor. New mines of gold had been discovered, and it was no longer necessary to open the prisons and people the colony with malefactors. Men of all ages and conditions in life eagerly embarked in the enterprise. Indeed, so numerous were the applicants that it was matter of far greater moment to decide

who should remain behind, than it had, on previous occasions, been an object of solicitude to obtain men who were willing to go. Ovando, the new governor, moved conspicuous among the gathering crowd. Arrayed in princely robes, and sparkling with precious stones, he bore himself with a dignity befitting the occasion. As an act of peculiar favor, and that he might appear with proper dignity in his new station, his sovereigns, by a special act, had empowered him to use silks, brocades and precious stones, which, at that time, were prohibited among the nobility of Spain. Of so much importance did the crown deem this new acquisition of territory, that they revoked an edict intended to curb the love of ostentatious display in their subjects at home, and allowed this new governor of an almost unknown gold region to revel in the luxuries which they themselves rarely used.

The cry had once more come across the water, "Gold! gold!" New depositories of the precious metal had been discovered. The coveted wealth, it was represented, could be obtained in every direction, simply for the trouble of stooping to raise it from the ground. Adventurers from all classes of society had gathered to embark in this new gold-hunting expedition. The hum of the excited multitude arose on the air, and above all was heard the merry chant of the sailors as they wrought at their tasks.

The hour of their departure has arrived. With light and elastic steps the deluded voyagers enter the ships. Never perhaps was seen a more joyous leave-taking. All were filled with animation and lively hope. The gentleman of decayed fortune, flushed with the hope of returning again to the enjoyment of his wasted patrimony, returned with pride the scornful glance of his former comrades, as he stepped from the shore. The high-spirited cavalier, the hardy navigator, the roving adventurer, and the keen speculator, all eager in the acquisition of wealth, crowded on board the vessels, till the fleet bore from their homes two thousand five hundred men. At last the embarkation was completed, and as the proud fleet moved ma

314

jestically from the harbor, the assembled concourse sent up one long and deafening shout.

Nine years previous a similar scene had been enacted. A few vessels under the com mand of the great discoverer himself, animated by similar emotions, had left the shores of Spain. Eager adventurers crowded the vessels of the admiral. Men smuggled themselves on board his ships, till the number he actually carried exceeded by five hundred the amount for which accommodations had been provided. With high hopes and lively imaginations these sanguine adventurers left their homes and all they held dear, for the renowned Ophir of the Scriptures, as the ardent imagination of Columbus led them to suppose. The multitude had assembled on that occasion as they congregated now. Many of the same individuals who witnessed the departure of Columbus on his second voyage of discovery, now gazed upon the lessening sails of this new armament destined on the same errand. They shouted then as they shouted now. But the fate of the previous expedition had been forgotten. The failures of the past were swallowed up in anticipations of the future. The return of that bold array, that they had seen set sail with such extravagant expectations, had passed from their memories. They had forgotten the squalid, half-starved objects, without an ounce of gold, that feebly crawled to land from the stormbeaten caravals on their return from the famed El Dorado, for which this new expedition had just sailed. Instead of greeting robust and hearty men, flushed with success, landing from vessels laden with the yellow dust, they met but famished human beings, pale with hunger, worn with hardship, clothed in rags, and eagerly embracing the earth in the joy of once more beholding their native land. All this had vanished from their minds, and as the last dim outline of the bold fleet disappeared below the horizon, the enthusiastic multitude once more returned to their accustomed vocations.

SCENE II.

A battered and storm-tossed fleet came slowly to anchor in a little bay in the farfamed land to which the Spanish fleet we have just seen leave the shores of the Old World had sailed. A few vessels, some nearly disman

tled, and all bearing marks of their encounter with the elements, rode safely in the harbor of St. Domingo. Nearly half the gallant fleet that sailed so proudly from the shores of Spain, had gone down upon the broad ocean, or been dashed upon rocky coasts. Those that escaped were busily discharging their living freight. They eagerly swarmed the sides of the vessels, scarce waiting the return of the boats from shore to be conveyed in their turn to land. None cared for his neighbor-'Each for himself, and gold for us all,' was their motto. No time was to be lost. At the very gates of the gold region, all anxiously pressed forward, fearful that his companion would reach the mining-ground first. Never had the little harbor of the embryo city of Isabella presented such a scene of activity and life. But none remained here long. No sooner had they safely landed, than all started for the mines. The roads were crowded. Men who never before had borne burdens, now, unable to obtain servants, cheerfully shouldered their knapsacks, and hurried onward towards the consummation of their dearest hopes-all with inining instruments in their hands; most on foot, a few only of the more favored on horses, quickly pressed forward. They set out in high spirits, each anxious to outstrip his fellow. In the mining region, which was about eight leagues distant, "they fancied gold was to be gathered as easily and readily as fruit from the trees." Such were the feelings of this motley assemblage, confidently expecting speedy and enormous wealth. Thus far nothing had presented itself calculated to dispel the idea that riches were at their command. The hardships they had encountered were only such as were always attendant upon expeditions into a wild and unknown country, and which they expected, and were in some measure prepared to meet. But now, as they had arrived at the end of their journey, a new prospect opens one for which they had made no previous preparation. Through toils and privations enough to daunt the boldest heart, they had toiled, and at last reached the El Dorado of their hopes. They supposed the hardships of their expedition were over, and henceforward they were but to enrich themselves and return. But what was their dismay on discovering that their toils had but just commenced! For the first time they now learned that it re