chair, her fresh, youthful face, profuse tresses, bound by a single riband, and her simple black silk dress contrasted forcibly with the withered face and magnificent raiment of her mistress. Indeed, a more striking picture than the whole group afforded could not well be imagined. 66 with his music those many hours of loneliness in which the cares of state take you from my company. Ask any thing but this, and it shall be granted." Nay, I will not press the matter, if this be your reason for refusing me," replied Mary, drawing nearer to the Prince, and with difficulty refraining from a caress, so complete was her credulity wrought upon. Disgusted with this display of shallow hypocrisy and puerile fondness, Alice turned her eyes on the page, curious to observe what effect it had upon him. He stood by, regarding the royal pair, not with haughty anger, as she had expected, but with quiet scorn, as if he deemed the scene altogether too contemptible for any show of deeper feeling. Mary did not observe the entrance of her attendant, and the King seemed equally unconscious, for the late quarrel with his royal consort had taught him to be more cautious in his admiration. The boy turned his eyes towards the door, and all at once there was a discord in his music. Suddenly he seemed to lose the beautiful air he had been singing, but after a moment of st ng confusion, his rich voice gushed out in a light cheering ditty, and bending his face over the lute, he seemed absorbed in the sweet sounds it was giving forth. To the royal listeners this rapid change seemed but a vagary of his wild genius, but to Alice it had a deeper meaning. She watched the graceful bend of his head, saw the small and femininely white hand flying like a winged bird over the lute, 'till her pure heart grew heavy, and her eyes became eloquent with deep commiseration. The boy finished his air, swept back the curls that had That moment Mary's eyes fell upon her waiterfallen over his face, and that moment encountered woman. Instantly her whole demeanor changed; and read Alice Copley's glance. A burning crim-with a lowering brow, she left the King, and swept son rushed over his face, and with an air of dis Elated by the flattering language of her consort, Mary would fain have prolonged the pleasurable moments; but Philip had gained his object, and seemed little inclined to indulge her. "Your Grace forgets the presence of our attendants," he muttered coldly, drawing back his head to avoid the withered and jewelled hand which she had been twining fondly among his sable hair. across the room to her oratory. Scarcely had she pleasure and annoyance at being thus closely ob- disappeared, when the page darted to the window, served, he arose, and casting his lute down upon and with a quick motion of his hand, the piece of the cushion, drew back against the window case-gold was sent flashing to the terrace underneath. ment, where he stood with folded arms, bent to the floor. and eyes "Thou hast a dainty hand at the lute, fair master, and in sooth a sweet voice, too," said the Queen, moving graciously forward and extending a broad piece of gold to the page. A slight but very scornful frown shot over the boy's face, and he seemed about to reject the proffered guerdon, but a glance from King Philip reproved the impulse, and he received the coin, though with scarcely concealed reluctance. "We should chide your Grace that this boy's rare skill in music has been so seldom used for our pastime," said Mary, leaning with sickly fondness over the King. "In sooth, we have it in our heart to beg this gentle favourite at your hands, for our private divertisement." The spirited page started as if an adder had stung him; his brow contracted, one little foot beat nervously against the floor, and it was well for him that Queen Mary regarded not the burning glance which he lifted to her face. "What say you, boy, to the Queen's gracious request?" said Philip, turning to the page, with a smile more arch than usually visited his saturnine "Would it were the Queen's self thus cast to the earth!" he muttered in Spanish. Philip both observed the action and heard the speech, but instead of chiding the froward stripling, he patted his burning cheek, and answered in the same language "With all my heart, child, so you but keep the crown and sceptre from going with her." The boy turned petulantly away, and for the moment Philip seemed to lose patience with him. "Tush, tush," he said-" no more of this peevish folly. Methinks those cheeks are never without an angry flush upon them now. Be wise; forbearance will not last for ever." The boy made no answer, but tears gushed into his eyes, and he turned sorrowfully away. Philip looked on him earnestly for a moment, then approaching Alice, he greeted her with a careless compliment in English, and declared that the hopes of feasting his eyes on her beauty had alone induced him to seek the Queen's apartment. The page stood within hearing of this heartless speech. He evidently strove to appear unconscious, but the colour died tint by tint from his face, and though his eyes were still wet with tears, the drooping lids and long shadowy lashes could scarcely conceal the kindling fire underneath. The maiden observed this, and was pained by it. Drawing gently back, she bent her head in acknowledgment of the King's notice, and without answering him, moved forward, and took her station by the door of the oratory, trusting that the near vicinity of the Queen might prove a protection against farther annoyance. Philip did not venture to follow her, but as if to recompense himself for this forced self-denial, seated himself again in the window, and ordering the page to give him some music, remained leaning against the oaken waincot surveying the distant maiden at his leisure. This unknightly rudeness was lost on its object, for her attention was drawn towards the oratory, from whence came the low eager voice of the Queen, mingled now and then with the deep tone of a | male speaker. The conversation was carried on in a foreign language, but more than once Alice distinctly heard her own name pronounced, both by Mary and her companion. Suddenly a strong apprehension fell upon the poor damsel's heart; she strove to conjecture why her humble name should be made the subject of conversation between Mary and her confessor, for no other person was ever admitted to the privacy of that little room. She remembered what the page had said to her on the previous night, and felt how true his prophecy of the Queen's vengeance was likely to prove; but with all these wild conjectures she did not for a moment lose her fortitude. Philip at length became weary with his unrecompensed devotion to a being that so coldly received his homage, and fearing the return of his despised consort, arose and left the room. The page took up his lute, but lingered a little behind. As he passed the oratory, the Queen was speaking louder and more earnestly than she had done before. Alice could alone understand that the tone of her voice was vindictive, but the boy comprehended better, and, drawing close to the maiden, whispered "Be on thy guard-they are plotting thy destruction even now; hasten to thy chamber if books or papers that can do harm are left within it, for they are about to order a search for evidences of heresy." he had accompanied his uncle and patron, the Cardinal Pole, to the Pontiff's court; and it was to gratify that good old prelate, that he plied his skill in copying the missal which Friar Joseph, the Queen's confessor, had solicited from his Royal Mistress for that purpose. A few months earlier, and Francis Huntly would have felt his blood thrill at the thoughts of such indulgence to his intense love for the beautiful, as the task afforded; but higher and holier feelings than even his restless genius could enkindle, had awoke in his heart during that interval, and his was "a divided duty." His new faith made the subject of the book hateful to him, and yet there were times when his whole being seemed absorbed in the beautiful creations it displayed-times when his hand would tremble with eager delight on the parchment-when hours and hours would pass by, and he remain all unconscious of their progress. It was during one of these periods of intense mental excitement, that Friar Joseph, who had been writing at a table in his closet on the morning in question, arose, and with his usual noiseless step, passed through a door which led to the Queen's oratory, leaving the artist altogether unconscious of his absence. When the priest returned, Huntly had finished his task, and was gathering up his implements to depart. He had worked very diligently for months, that he might surprise his kind old patron with a copy of the book so much coveted; and now that it was complete, he was most eager to start for London, where the Cardinal remained at his own house, striving, by his benevolent interposition, to mitigate the cruelties every day practised by the detested Bishop Bonner. When Friar Joseph saw that the youth was about to depart, he interposed, and requested a few moments' delay; he was about to interrogate a person suspected of a disaffection to the mother church, and required the presence of a witness who might take down the examination. Huntly would have excused himself, for he had little relish for the proposed task; but an unaccountable feeling that the investigation related to some one dear to himself, took possession of his mind, and Alice turned pale, but still retained a degree of composure, which surprised her strange friend. "Alas!" she said, "I cannot go! the Queen may return any moment, and mark my absence." The generous boy snatched her hand, wrung it warmly, and without speaking a word, hurried from the room. Scarcely had the door closed after him, when Queen Mary re-entered from the oratory, and by many trifling devices, contrived to keep Alice by her side until a full hour had passed away. At last the harrassed young creature re-anxiety, but he sat down with apparent calmness, ceived permission to withdraw. As she was hurrying toward her chamber with a beating heart, and limbs trembling from protracted anxiety, she was met by one of the court servitors, who had orders to conduct her before Friar Joseph, the Queen's father confessor. While the scene which we have described was going forward in Queen Mary's apartment, Francis Huntly sat in Friar Joseph's closet, engaged in copying a missal of rare beauty, which had been sent to the Sovereign of England from the Pope. It was a curious old book, richly bound in white vellum, embossed with gold, and clasped with a single jewel of immense price, but its chief value lay in the exquisite gems of art which it contained. Each page bore on its snowy surface a legend or saintly history, wrought with consummate skill by some of the first masters of Rome. Every leaf burned with the poetry of an invention, as yet scarcely known in England. Francis Huntly had studied the arts at Rome when in his early youth he consented to remain. His heart was full of and began to sharpen a pen. After the space of some ten minutes, which appeared an age to the young secretary, the closet door opened, and Alice Copley entered. She was very pale, but her cheek flushed a little as she saw who was the priest's companion. "I was told that your Reverence wished to speak with me," she said mildly, approaching the friar. "Thou wast rightly informed, daughter," replied the priest in the low, cold, and yet strangely musical tones which he ever used both in seasons of joy and sorrow; and lifting his searching eyes to her face, he sat regarding her in silence for the space of a minute. "It is whispered in the court-we hope with no shade of truth, daughter-that for some weeks back thou hast neglected to attend mass, according to the Queen's gracious requirement, that thou hast absented thyself from the confessional, and otherwise neglected the spiritual duties of a good Catholic. In these disaffected times, it is meet | that her gracious majesty should look well to the spiritual health of her household; therefore, in her loving-kindness, she has commanded that thou, who art so near her person, shalt be questioned touching those points in which we of the true church differ from those heretic subjects who style themselves reformers." Here the priest paused, drew an ebony crucifix from his gown, and holding it toward her, continued "Kneel before the image, emblem of our blessed Saviour, which all of the true faith hold sacred; and while thine eyes are fixed on the emblem of His sufferings, answer with humility such questions as are needful to the establishment of thy faith." Alice turned a shade paler, but mildly put away the cross, and answered with a degree of firmness that gave a simple dignity to her words. "Morning and night will I kneel before Him, thy Creator and mine," she said, lifting her hand toward Heaven," but I cannot bow myself down to a graven image." The priest seemed in no way surprised by her answer, but quietly replaced the crucifix in the loose bosom of his gown, and spoke again, as coldly as before. "By this contumacy, thou dost but give new strength to thine accusers," he said. "If thou wilt not bow down before the blessed emblem of our Saviour's death, answer the questions which I, as a true servant of the church, must propound even after thy own sinful fancy. Listen! dost thou believe in the supremacy of the Pope-that he is God's vicegerent under Heaven, and second to no earthly potentate?" For the space of some three minutes, Alice clasped her hands and bowed her pale face upou her bosom; she seemed earnestly, and with intense energy, struggling for power to meet that subtle man as befitted a mild follower of the new creed. The secretary leaned breathlessly forward, his face was pale, and he seemed scarcely less agitated than the maiden. After these few moments of painful silence, Alice lifted her head, unclasped her hands, and folding them meekly over her bosom, looked on the priest, and answered "It is useless to go farther in these questions," she said. "I acknowledge myself a humble believer in-" "Alice, Alice, think what you are doing!" exclaimed the secretary, starting forward. Alice started, and for a moment seemed as if she would have thrown herself on his bosom, and have clung there for protection, but this feminine weakness soon passed away, and turning again mildly to the priest, she said— "I am a Protestant; do with me as you will." "And I," said Francis Huntly, in a slow, determined voice, almost in solemn contrast with his late vehement exclamation, "I too am-" "Peace, boy, peace," said the Friar, lifting his hand reprovingly. "Cardinal Pole is a good Catholic. I have no memory for wild words, such as his nephew was about to speak." "And yet with thy subtle priestcraft thou wouldst entrap the life of a harmless maiden like this," said Huntly, taking the cold hand of the noble girl within his own; and turning sternly upon the priest-"Shame on such cruel policy! I confess myself all that she is, and ye will not hear me, because I am the nephew of Queen Mary's favourite." The priest seemed utterly regardless of the young man's rash speech, but turning to Alice, he said, "Daughter, get thee to thy chamber, while I learn the Queen's pleasure touching the best means of curing thy obstinate heresy, but attempt not again to approach the person of her grace.' (To be continued.) JOSEPHINE AT SAINT CLOUD. (From the French of Madame Saint Hilaire.) The Empress Josephine possessed in her heart all the treasure of maternal tenderness; this gentle affection, which she carried to an extreme, naturally bestowed itself upon the young. Groups of children were continually about her person, in whose conversation she loved to mingle, and whose innocent happiness she delighted to promote, by little marks of affection and kindness. Scarcely a week elapsed in which she did not make large purchases of splendid toys, for the purpose of distributing them with her own hands; and seldom did she fail to accompany her bounties with some prudent recommendation. How often have I seen the little salon bleu in the Chateau of Saint Cloud decked out like a shop for the sale of opera trinkets. On new-year's day, especially, did this new bazaar present a splendid appearance. Upon entering the little hall of Josephine's baths, you almost fancied yourself entering one of the beautiful salons of Giroux; on all sides were displayed jewels, laces, porcelain, crystals, and sweetmeats. I have seen there, rolls of sucre de pomme, which resembled the marshal's batons; and dolls as large as lifetambours and trumpets, were arrayed in great numbers, by the side of regiments of light cavalry, composed of lead. On the evening of the first of January, 1805, the Empress, knowing that she could not, on the morrow, leave the Emperor during any part of the day, on account of having to receive several distinguished guests, and officiate at the deputations which she expected to arrive at the chateau, gave orders to one of her ladies of honour, to inform those friends whom she had invited with their children to spend the new-year's day with her, not to present themselves until the fourth of January at Saint Cloud, whither she was immediately going, for the purpose of preparing a fête for their reception. The much wished-for day at length arrived. At twelve o'clock, noon, a stranger would have supposed that the Empress was a schoolmistress. All the trinkets, arms, and sweetmeats, had been conveyed from Paris on the preceding evening. At one o'clock her Majesty announced that she should herself proceed to the distribution, and the whole assembly entered the hall of prodigies. Both small and great coveted with eager looks the numerous toys displayed in every direction. words, Napoleon goes on tiptoe to the door of the "Forward! Charge! Dead! I've killed him," and similar exclamations, mingled with sighs and tears, and the most immoderate laughter. The Emperor turns gently the handle of the door, and shows himself. "Ah! what have we here?" said At these words the little troop raise their heads, and lower their arms; all stand motionless from surprise and fear. Napoleon cast his eyes over this band of petite diables, and could not forbear a smile at the grotesque fashion in which each had adorned himself. Here, one had made, with a sheet of paper, a three-cornered hat, to which, in the absence of a cockade, he had attached a gingerbread figure. There, one had placed a little nest on his shoulder, to imitate the dress of a hussar; another-the little Adolphe, had drawn on his had made of the tippet of a little girl, a sash, into which he had thrust a pearl paper-knife, as a substitute for a poniard; his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and in each hand he held a pistol. In this disguise Master Adolphe had so singular an appearance, that the Emperor seated himself, in order to take a leisurely survey of him. At length he motioned him towards him, and holding him between his knees The distribution completed, the joyful assembly made such an uproar, that Josephine was obliged to quit the field, and retire to her boudoir, to pre-face, with Indian ink, a pair of moustachios, and vent being absolutely deafened; but scarcely had she departed when a warm discussion arose. The httle boys having unanimously decided that they would play at war, wished forcibly to enlist the girls; these opposed, en masse; and some among them protested loudly against this kind of violence. Then the young Achille N, the son of an officer whom the Emperor esteemed and loved, who had elected himself chief of the troop, decided that those of the little girls who had shown themselves most obstinate, should be shut up in the citadel, until they consented to obey him, by ranging themselves under his banner. Now the proposed citadel was an elegant sleeping apartment, situated on the side of the hall of Josephine's baths: it was lighted by a window formed of a single and unblemished plate of glass, and hung with green silk, bordered with silver bees. A debate arose on the propriety of forming a council of war, in order to judge, and even to shoot the little Emma who had placed herself at the head of the opposition, when, fortunately, one of the ladies of honour interposed her authority, threatening Master Achille with dry bread at the approaching feast, if he continued to prevent the little girls from amusing themselves as they pleased, whom, for greater precaution, she conducted into the citadel. Once separated there was no more dispute, but the clamour was redoubled. Josephine, on hearing the noise of their mirth, appeared in an ecstacy of delight; but Napoleon, who, in the meantime, had arrived at Saint Cloud, and whose cabinet was situated below the little salon bleu, ascended to his wife's room, and inquired of her, in a half gay, half serious tone, the cause of so much noise. "You should distribute your favours in my absence," said he; "I will go myself, and beg your little guests to be quiet; and if they continue to make the same disturbance” "Oh! no, Bonaparte; you will frighten them, poor darlings! What would you have? They are amusing themselves playing at war. Don't you make more noise at the same game? Pray do not go; I will send some one to quiet them." "Ah! if they play at war, I shall not be sorry to see how they conduct the game." Saying these "What is your name, Mr. Braggadocio ?" asked he. "My name is Adolphe." "I suppose it was you who shouted so loudly just now?" "I have cause too. Achille will never permit me to be General; he will always be it himself." "And who is this Master Achille ?" “There he is, below;" and Adolphe, turning round, pointed with his finger to a little boy, rather taller than himself, who had made a cuirass of a music book, on which sparkled a star of sugar candy. "Ah! ah!" continued Napoleon, "I will speak to him-this Master Achille who will not allow others to be General; that's not fair; each should be General in his turn." And tapping Adolphe on the ear, let him go, and called Achille, who ganibolled towards him, and at a single bound, placed himself astride the knees of the Emperor. "What is your father's name, Achille ?" "He is General N——.” At the mention of this name the Emperor's face brightened; he drew the boy still nearer to him, regarding him with benevolence, mingled with tenderness. "N- -, saidst thou? he is one of my best friends, and a brave man! and what do you intend to be yourself, one day?" "I will be like papa; I should like to have handsome gold epaulettes, and a large sabre, that will cut well." “ Diable! and what will you do with it?" "I will kill all the enemies of our country." "Indeed! but I hope they will be all destroyed before you are old enough for these things." "And then I wish to have the cross of the Legion of Honour, attached to my neck by a red 66 "Who sends you, the Marshal or the Ge"Sire, the General was killed upon the rampart, by a Russian grenadier; and I-" He could say no more-his eyes closed-he staggered-and fell. "Attend to this officer," said Napoleon; "he is Captain! one moment, gentlemen; wait!" "Your father judges of you by himself; how-neral?" ever, that depends upon yourself, and, in the meantime, hold !"-and the Emperor drew from his pocket a fourteen franc piece, which he gave him, adding "when you shall have broken your sabre, here is something that will buy another;" then bidding him rejoin his little comrades, enjoining it upon them not to make too much noise. "Adieu, my children," said he, leaving them, amuse yourselves, but do not hurt one another." The advice of the Emperor was not followed to the letter, for the little Adolphe, jealous, no doubt, that the Emperor should have given Achille money, while he received but a tap on the cheek, sought a quarrel, under pretence of not being willing that the most distinguished should be at the head. The dispute became rather warm, and would, perhaps, have terminated unpleasantly, had not the announcement been made at that moment, that the feast awaited them. All discordant feelings were immediately forgotten in the prospect of the good things which were prepared for them. The little troop arranged themselves in two ranks, laying aside all consideration of size or grade, and marched rapidly towards the citadel in question, repeating in chorus—“ rran, rran, plan, planrran, rran!" with an accompaniment obligato of drums and trumpets, the noise of which was perfectly deafening. It was in the commencement of the year 1814, nine years after the occurrences above mentioned, that Europe, which had so lately marched with us, obedient to the orders of Napoleon, was in league against us. As usual, the grand army performed prodigies of valour; and after as many victories as combats, and more successful each day, the Emperor, on the 6th of March, established himself at Craonne; and so to speak, encamped in the very midst of the bivouacs of the Russian army. There, during the night, he reconnoitred, in person, the different positions of the enemy; and the following morning, at day-break, the whole army was arranged in order of battle. At eight o'clock the cries of the soldiers announced the presence of the Emperor, and the action commenced. The success of the day depended on the definitive possession of a rampart, which had been taken and lost alternately. It is four o'clock-the day is declining, and nothing is yet decided. Napoleon casts a look of indecision upon his old guard, which is stationed behind him. He had but to give the order, and all would be completed in an instant-perhaps he is about to pronounce the word, when an aid-decamp arrives at full speed, crying, "The Emperor! the Emperor! where is the Emperor?" And detaching the cross of honour from his neck, he put it on that of the wounded officer, who seized the hand of the Emperor, pressed it to his lips, and said, in a faint voice, "Ah! sire! I die happy. I said well to your Majesty, nine years since, at St. Cloud, that I should one day merit the cross." Then striving to collect his strength, he attempted to rise, cried "Vive l'Empereur!" and expired. During this time Napoleon had observed him attentively, as if seeking to recal something to his recollection; the last words of the young aid-de-camp had startled him. "Yes, yes, I recollect," said he, at length, in a voice quite choked with emotion; "pauvre enfunt!" and turning his head to brush off a tear, he put foot into the stirrups, and mounted his horse. Then passing a troop of his own guard, he exclaimed, "Out of the saddle, grenadiers! the battle is won!" and he continued his route, followed by his ètat-major, to the prolonged cries of "Vive l'Empereur." " The following morning, Achille was buried with the honours of those who die for their "He has left a sister, has he not?" "And me!" replied quickly, Napoleon; "you forget me, General. I have signed her admission to my Imperial Institution at Ecouen. I take upon myself to provide her trousseau and marriage portion. I have already decorated ber brother! General, I have this morning made you grand cordon de la Légion d'Honneur; come, embrace your Emperor." And Napoleon extended to him his arms, into which the Gene ral rushed, giving free course to his tears. I see from time to time the daughter of General N- who entered at Ecouen, and passed from thence to the Maison royale de Saint Denis. Napoleon had not time to provide her marriage portion, as he had promised, having been |