Literary Cadet And Rhode Island Statesman

HENRY O'CONNOR
(CONTINUED.)

When the young Harper had ceased, Rosalind
called him, and begged that he would
stop for a moment, and explain to her his
meaning, "and," continued she, "I beseech
thee my good lad tell me, if the lines you have
chanted, are addressed to me—if thou hast
chanted them beneath my window, in compli-
ance with the instructions of any one? Tell
me, I beseech thee, good boy, and thou shalt
be rewarded."

The urchin, threw aside his "bonnie straw
hat," and casting a roguish look at Rosalind,
replied,

"I beseech thee, my good lady, interrogate me
not; thou should'st understand the stanzas for
thyself; and know ye, my lady, that it is one of
the earliest injunctions imposed upon us by our
Holy Order, not to reveal the secrets that are
confided to our keeping. Hereafter thou shall
know all—when it is meet for thee, all shall
be disclosed, until then, fare thee well—for
already have I too long delayed, and I must
get me hence to pay my tribute of respect to
the venerated dead."

"Stop, stop, if but for a moment" cried
Rosalind, "stop, stop, I beseech thee, and tell
me, where when the day shall have dawned, I
shall find thee, my good boy, and unravel this
mystery

"That thou must not know,—thou shalt
never know, but ere tomorrow's sun shall have
hid his disk beneath the western horizon, I
will call at thy lodgings, and afford the infor-
mation that shall prove acceptable to thee,
and which shall dissolve the mystery, which
now apparently mantles my conduct. But the
dawn of day approaches;—the dews of heaven
descend more heavily upon the world, and lest
thy health be injured, go! to thy room.
thou fair one; be content, and repose every
confidence in my fidelity.'

The lad ceased, and having saluted Rosa-
lind again and again with a farewell bow, he
hastened up Broadway, and in a moment was
lost in the shades of the towering edifices,
which decorate the metropolis of America.

Rosalind, half unable to realise, whether
she were really living or dead, threw herself
upon her couch; but it was almost in vain that
she would court "sleep, balmy sleep," for the
incidents of the night had been so singular,
added to the strangeness of O'Connor's letter,
that her mind was too deeply absorbed in
meditation, to suffer her to slumber. She was
amazed when she reflected upon the strange
conduct of the lad, and when she remembered
that the interview she had had, with him, oc-
curred amid the silence and solitude of the
night, and that it was associated with
the solemn rites of the sepulchre. her re
flections were too intense, and in the
agony of her soul, she exclaimed, "Great
Heaven, why was I born to witness these nu-
merous trials and vexations." Her articula-
tion was commensurate with the intensity of
her feelings, and falling upon the ear of Ma-
ria Hardy, woke her from her leaden slumbers;
and, affrighted, she demanded in a voice of ter-
ror, "who is here—have I been betrayed?"

The terror which Maria manifested, tended to
lessen the impetuosity of Rosalind's feelings,
and she replied, "be not alarmed Maria, it is
only me. I have been dreaming, and when I
awoke from my trance, I was so terrified, that
I could not refrain from uttering the cry of
distress which annoyed you, and if I have of-
fended, or if I have annoyed you, I am very
sorry indeed, indeed I am."

"And pray Miss," responded Maria, "what
have you been dreaming about?"

"That I cannot tell," returned Rosalind,
for indeed I was so afrighted, that when I
woke, every remnant of the vision escaped
me. But I am sure it was a most dreadful
dream!"

"Dreamers, who cannot remember what
they dream," rejoined Miss Hardy, "must
either dream what they do not wish to tell, or
they dream with all their senses about them.
But however, Miss, it is of no consequence,
and if you will have the goodness to dream to
yourself and not disturb me, you will greatly
oblige me."

Having thus vented her indignation, Miss
Hardy again turned upon her pillow, and once
more partook of the sweets of slumber, with-
out dreaming that her dynasty was soon to be
at an end, and that the day was not far distant,
when Rosalind would be relieved from her
dynasty.

Rosalind for several hours lay listlessly up-
on her pillow; but, at length exhausted nature
gave way, and she too fell into the embraces of
the midnight monarch.

The anxieties of the night had well prepar-
ed her for repose:—sweetly she slumbered till
after Trinity clock had chimed nine, when she
was awakened by the fille de chambre, who
enquired if she would not be pleased to
take breakfast; and informed her, that though
the morning was not far advanced, a gentle-
man had called, and being informed that she
had not risen, had left a note for her, which
she now handed her, and on the envelope of
which, she recognized the hand writing of Ha-
loran.

Rosalind opened it, and found that it con-
tained an invitation to ride to Haarlem, to at-
tend a party of pleasure which was there con-
vened; and though she felt but little inclined
to participate in the festivities of the route,
when she remembered the many kind civilities
and attentions she had received at the hands
of Haloran, she thought it would be uncivil to
refuse; and, therefore, after consulting Miss
Hardy, who was proud of a similar invitation,
she despatched her servant to Haloran's lodg-
ings with a note, informing him that Miss
Hardy and Miss Villars, would be proud to
avail themselves of his kind attentions, and that
they accepted his invitation;—provided they
were assured, that they would be enabled to
return to the city previous to sun set.

Haloran received the note with joy, and
despatch a reply, informing the ladies, that
he would call for them in an half hour—that
they should be returned to the city, at any
hour they should think proper, and that he
should always avail himself of every opportu-
nity, and of every art he was master of, to pro-
mote their pleasure.

Rosalind, and Miss Hardy, had scarcely
time enough allowed them to prepare them-
themselves for the excursion, when Haloran rode
up to the door, and sent word that he was at
the service of the ladies, when the servant was
directed to show him up

After the usual courtesies of the morning
had been exchanged, and as the ladies were
descending the stairs, Haloran remarked to
Miss Villars, that he was apprehensive that he
had called at too early an hour, to suit her
pleasure and convenience, and continued he,
"if I may judge from appearances, The last
night passed off heavily with you, Miss Villars
—I hope no unhappy dreams annoyed you."

Rosalind blushed, and hung her head; and
as Haloran handed her into the carriage, she
replied "no, no sir, my dreams were perfectly
agreeable, but in consequence of the intensity
of the atmosphere, and the closeness of the
building, I did not rest so well as I could have
wished, and I fear that Miss Hardy suffered
the same inconvenience."

The coachman was now directed to drive on;
and as the carriage proceeded up Broadway,
Miss Hardy with the first playful smile, that
had enlivened her countenance for many a
month, said to Haloran, "I agree with you
sir, that Miss Rosalind looks somewhat fatig-
uated, and with you, I hope, she has not been
disturbed by unpleasant dreams; but, if one may
be allowed to judge, from the expressions and
ejaculations she uttered in the course of the
night, her dreams could not have been of an
agreeable nature; and, would you believe it, Mr
Haloran," she added, "Miss Villars absolutely
ly terrified me with her strange and unaccoun-
table ejaculations!"

As Rosalind blushed deeply, and betrayed a
degree of confusion which could not be misun-
derstood, Haloran turned the subject, and di-
verted the minds of the ladies, by directing
their attention to a group of culprits, who were
then marching up Broadway, to the peniten-
tiary, to receive the punishments due to their
crimes. It was the last day of the New-York
Court of Sessions; the unfortunate culprits who
had been convicted of the offences charged
against them, were now repairing to the
common receptacle of crime, to perform a le-
gal quarantine: to work out their purgation,
and whether guilty or not guilty, they were
doomed to suffer eternal disgrace.

The group of convicts, was composed of all
ranks, classes, and conditions of society—of
the poor, the white man, and the negro, the
offspring of crime, and the offspring of virtue,
the tender maid, and hardened matron, the old
and incorrigible offender, and the novice in
villainy.

[TO BE CONTINUED.]