fear we shall have to row under this terrific heat. If the wind continues, the broiling rays may be tempered by the breeze, but I like not the look of the heavens!" "And yonder dark mass before us-is not that a cloud?" "Ha! how sharp are your dear eyes! That is land-and land I know well. Let the breeze but last two hours, and we can take shelter on the Mona Island. There, too, is Porto Rico rising before us." "Then our dangers are nearly over?" "I know not; we have passed through so much, that we may have to pass through more before we reach the goal we seek. But eat on, dearest; nothing keeps up courage and hope like wholesome food." Eleanor did as she was directed, the soldier-sailor setting her a good example. Meanwhile the breeze continued, and even slightly freshened, which was hailed as a good sign, and the land became more distinct every quarter of an hour. Presently, instead of gazing on a dark mass like a cloud, they could clearly distinguish the trees and the green tropical vegetation of Porto Rico-one of the loveliest sights which man ever gazed at from the sea-the hue of the land is so rich, the verdure so deep in its tints, and then spreads itself upward unchanged to the summit of the hilly coast from the very edge of the water. But the sun grew scorchingly hot, and Reginald was compelled to make a small awning for Eleanor, who began to suffer severely from the unusual heat and exposure. The rays of the great luminary fell almost perpendicularly on their heads; the air grew sultry and close, and the only relief to the weary eye was the sight of distant vegetation. About one hour after mid-day the boat, however, touched land, and Sir Reginald drew it under cover of the trees, which on Mona Island grow down to the very edge of the water. A small cove, or rather creek, had been selected by him, which he well knew, and here it was determined to pass the hours during which the heat of the sun was too oppressive. Eleanor lay still in the boat under her awning, and carefully shaded by thick trees. Her lover, however, after well arming himself, began to make his way through the tangled and almost impenetrable wood. The journey was difficult. Up the hill sides the trees grew close together, while many lay rolling on his path, still further impeded by bushes and huge parasitical plants. Patience, however, and time brought him to the summit of the island. Sir He ascended a lofty tree, and looked around. The scene was lovely indeed, but he saw it not; for a few hundred feet off the opposite side of the small island to where they had landed, was the Lone Star beating to windward, as if in search of the boat. Reginald had his own private flag with him. He kept it by him to the last, intending to destroy it if he fell into the power of the Spaniards; a contingency now, however, of very unlikely occurrence. He fastened it to a long bough, and waved it aloft. It was not noticed at first; he waved it again, raising it as high above the tree as possible, at the same time discharging his pistols. A flag flew to the peak of the Lone Star, a gun was fired, and a loud shout was heard, and he knew that they were seen. Again he waved his flag; but this time pointing to where lay the boat. The schooner eased off her sheets and headed for the extreme eastern point of the island. Satisfied with this sign of intelligence, the delighted man descended from his post, and hurried down toward Eleanor. He found her sleeping soundly on the boat, the sweet sleep of innocence and fatigue. Without caring for the heat or sun, he pushed out, set his sail, and stood clear of the land. He had scarcely gone two hundred yards round a projecting point, when he saw his faithful vessel come in sight, and ten minutes later they were alongside. XI. THE END. The crew of the Lone Star, and the relic of the devoted band that had sailed from Bristol in the Royal Charley, were all ranged along the deck, and were uproarious in their demonstrations of satisfaction. The freebooter and Eleanor were received with the delight one experiences at finding dear friends still living whom he had supposed to be dead. So great was the joy felt and manifested by all, save Henry Postans, who, however, was simply silent, that the negro's state was scarcely noticed. Presently, however, one of the passengers asked, "What has Josh been doing?" "Ah, I had forgotten," said Sir Reginald, who with Eleanor was still on deck: "Mr. Postans, look here, sir. Know you of any property belonging to your uncle which lay in his cabin?" "There was a large sum of money in gold, which I searched for when we returned to the vessel, and which I found not," replied the young man in a hollow tone. "Behold, then, the murderer of your father, Eleanor!" exclaimed Sir Reginald solemnly. "God knows I never suspected the scoundrel. Mr. Postans, I have a humble and most sincere apology to offer to you for my injurious suspicions. Villain!wretch! speak, or I will have you hung at the yardarm in five minutes!" "What I say?" cried the negro, manifesting all the abject terror of a cowardly assassin. "Who killed Mr. Bowen ?" "I did, massa. What de debble he talk so loud to Massa Postans of all de money he had in him box?" Passengers, crew, Mr. Postans, Eleanor, all listened in silent amazement at what they heard. "But, wretch! could you not have robbed without killing the old man ?" "He wake an' make noise. Josh no fool! Dead man nebber tell what him see! But, Massa Reginald, you no kill Josh? Him berry faithful servant, and tell the truth!" "I shall not kill you; but you shall be tried at Kingston for murder." "Oh, massa, they hang me like one dog!" "And you deserve it." nald. This is too sudden an engagement-it seems wrong, unnatural, at such a time." The crew and passengers gazed with horror on My dear cousin," continued the young man in an the assassin as he was removed, heavily ironed, to a extremely solemn and anxious tone, "will you, on place in the hold. The doubt and suspicion which your conscience, answer me one question? I imhad hung over two innocent men was, however, re-plore it, I beg it. Remember, I pray you, what I moved, and all felt this to be an intense relief. | have suffered, and be generous to me." Eleanor looked, despite her deep sorrow, with a kind smile on both. But she was startled at the expression of her cousin's countenance. He was about to speak. "Sir Reginald, your apology to me is as nothing to what I have to make to you," said Henry Postans, in a voice of low and deep emotion, which prevented his words from reaching any ears save those of his cousin and the captain of the Lone Star. "I knew, of course, all along my own innocence of that murder; but-and the confession will do me good-I did meditate to slay a man that night; and that man was yourself!" "Henry!" said Eleanor. "Hear me Maddened by hate and jealousy, I retired to my bed that night not in my right senses, I believe. My uncle had not shown half the resentment I wished him to feel at your attention to Miss Bowen. I loved her; I had long expected to see her my wife; and then I saw a stranger step in between me and that happiness which I considered I was entitled to: I saw clearly that you were preferred to me, and my brain became maddened! I know not how the ideas came flooding in upon me; but they came, and at last exasperated, drunk with furious jealousy, a knife in my hand, I rose to rush wildly to your bed. But I heard a step in the cabin, and I could distinguish it was near your door. This gave me an instant's reflection, and I lay down again. Imagine my horror when I, the next morning-an assassin in thought-found that my uncle had been murdered, as I firmly believed, by the very man I had myself doomed. This will explain to you my subsequent gloom and despair." "But, Henry," said Eleanor, kindly, "that was only a silly dream. It is over now. Think no more of it." "It is over, Eleanor, and so is another dream, silly also, but much more pleasant. But no matter. This generous man has saved all our lives, and nearly perished in the attempt. We can none of us reward him as he deserves; and you must show gratitude for us all. If I am not much mistaken, there is only one reward which he would receive, and that is yourself." "Whatever you ask me, Henry, I will answer," said his lovely cousin, much moved. "Do you love Sir Reginald?" asked he gravely. The freebooter stepped back not to hear the reply. "Stay, Sir Reginald; come hither. You owe me both this kindness, to let me have my way. And now answer me, Eleanor." "I do," said she, in a low tone scarcely audible to the ears of Henry Postans, but clear as a bell to those of her lover. And the young girl fixed her eyes upon the deck, while her cheeks were suffused with crimson. "Thank you, Eleanor," whispered her cousin quietly. "I wished to hear that word, and I have heard it. And now listen to me. I spoke last unto your kind and good father, and I can now speak in his name. Had he lived, he would have done what I am doing. The instant that I convinced him you loved the stranger, his only care was that he should be worthy of you. This I can answer for. Captain Montrose, to whom I told all, convinced me of this." "Thank you," said Sir Reginald. "My friend, I but do my duty. I calumniated and aspersed your character. I find my mistake, and I own it.” "True courage of noble minds." "But let us not forget what I ask of you. Eleanor, we are going to a strange place. You must have a protector. A rich heiress, you will be persecuted; and then, dear cousin, reflect that as long as you are free, I shall have hope left me. That would be cruel indeed. But once you are affianced, once you are married, I shall calmly make up my mind to what must be, and be once more your affectionate and attached cousin and friend. Will you refuse me this favor?" Reginald and Eleanor refused no longer; and Henry Postans, with a grave and solemn air, placed the young lady's hand in that of the ex-freebooter; but, according to his promise, freebooter no more. Everybody was much moved at the sight, though unaware of the painful confession made by Henry Postans; and though the galiant crew of the Lone Star foresaw the consequence, they could not forbear a loud and gladsome shout at the sight of the happy countenance of their beloved captain. Josh was, as we have said, put in confinement in the hold; Eleanor had the captain's cabin given up to her, and then all sail was set, and the Lone Star once more was on its way. A good breeze, a lovely vessel, and fair winds, soon brought them to their port, which Sir Reginald entered without hesitation. "But Henry, dear Henry, hearken to me," said Captain Montrose gave such an account of what Eleanor, speaking hurriedly; "reflect. My poor they owed to him, that the governor of Jamaica father is but just dead. I scarcely know Sir Regi-welcomed him most heartily. In those days the "We will talk of that another time," said Eleanor. "Yes," added Sir Reginald, taking his hand, and pressing it warmly within his own. "No!" replied Henry Postans, firmly. "I am her sole relative and guardian, and I will act. Publicly I have accused you, publicly I retract, and publicly 1 insist on joining your hands." "Perhaps, then, sir,” said the lady, with affected gravity, "you will condescend to give one, and explain all this mystery?" brethren of the coast were very differently con- | plied the other, speaking to a rubicund and rather sidered from what pirates are now. Lopez and his portly gentleman, who now also got out of the gang of regular sea-robbers were given up, with carriage-" there is a reason for every thing in this Josh, to the authorities, and ten days later, were all world." hung together, after a very summary trial. The Lone Star then departed. Williams took the command, resigned by his former captain; and the charming little schooner made for Turtle Island, and joined the renowned buccaneers, who were for some time yet to carry on warfare in those seas, under the orders of Henry Morgan, Montbar, and others. Sir Reginald and Lady Woolaston, a year later, returned to England, the former having obtained leave from the government to reside on his paternal estate; and Eleanor saw realized all, and more than all, that had been promised by her dream. She was, indeed, happy. She had a good and noble husband, who never had any other serious fault than strong political bias, and a morbid love of adventure. She in due time became a proud and happy mother, and was beloved to enthusiasm by all around her. Mr. Postans settled in Bristol, and became one of its most powerful and wealthy merchants. Neither he, nor Sir Reginald, nor Eleanor, have ever forgotten the lessons of caution, temper, and patience which they learned on their cruise with the Royal Charley and the Lone Star. Some years afterward a lady and gentleman, attended by numerous servants, and accompanied by several children, got out of a rich carriage, drawn by four horses at the door of a small inn, the only one in the little fishing village they had stopped at. The gentleman was distinguished-looking, and the lady beautiful, and both seemed, what was far better -supremely happy. "Upon my word, Sir Reginald," said the voice of a man inside the carriage, "this is a funny place to look for the Dublin packet." "Do not be in a hurry, my worthy friend," re "And so you no longer like mystery?" observed the gentleman, laughing. "That's a good answer, Sir Reginald," cried the gentleman with the rubicund countenance, "and puts me in mind "Of what, sir?" said the lady, pouting. "Of the shabby way in which Sir Reginald contrived to insure my remaining a bachelor. Never mind, he wont gain a farthing by it. All my property shall go to that wicked-eyed Henry there," pointing to a boy of five years old. "Thank you, my dear cousin. And now, Regi. nald, will you condescend to give me your reason?" "Why, my dear Lady Woolaston," said her hus band, smiling, "as we were going to trust ourselves upon salt water again to visit my Irish estates, I thought I would have a yacht of my own instead of going in the Dublin packet. Look!" Eleanor and Henry Postans followed the direction of his finger. In the small port lay a lovely schooner. "The Lone Star!" cried our delighted Eleanor, recognizing the vessel, the flag, and its captain, Williams, who had, at the invitation of his ex-commander, brought the vessel to England, and enrolled a picked crew of honest seamen. "Upon my word," cried Henry Postans, "the man is still hankering after black-mail. But if we must go, better go in that beauty than in the Dublin packet." And the whole party were, in a few minutes more, again on the deck of the Lone Star; and the lovely vessel bounded on her voyage as if she felt the presence of her old commander. THE SPIRITS OF FLOWERS BY J. H. A. BONE. WE are the guardian spirits of flowers, To watch through the pleasant summer hours To open their leaves when the morning sun And to close them again when day is done, With a gentle hand the dewy tear We brush from the cheek of the rose, Borne down by its fancied woes; Then we nectar quaff from the woodbines flower, Or lie asleep at the noontide hour By the pink-eyed pimpernel. Then we fly with haste to gather up To the passien-flower bright. Then we fold our wings when our work is done, JULES GERARD, THE AFRICAN LION-KILLER. BY WILLIAM JONES. It was at the commencement of the year 1848, at by the Arabs, was born in 1817, at Pignans, in the a dinner given at Havre to Jules Gerard by a few arrondissement of Toulon, and is the son of an honorof his countrymen, to celebrate his return from Al-able functionary of the place; who, prematurely re geria, that I became acquainted with this intrepid moved from his children by death, left a reputation hunter, whose encounters with the king of beasts in for kindness of heart and integrity, which is the most the wilds of Africa, not only excited the wonder of precious patrimony to a family. At the age of fifthe Arab population, but have resounded throughout teen years Jules had nearly completed his education; the length and breadth of Christendom. and, being of a robust frame, entered with ardor into all sports of a violent character, and especially that of hunting, in which he soon obtained a high chat. acter for courage and dexterity. On the attainment of his majority, feeling predisposed to a soldier's life, Gerard resolved to enlist in a regiment; but was prevented in his purpose by the entreaties of his mother-in-law. To conceal his mortification he determined upon traveling, thinking that time and change of scene would dissipate the ideas of military glory which he had encouraged; and with this view he proceeded to Italy and Malta, but finding it impossible to overcome his predilecdig-tions for the army, he finally obtained the consent of his friends and embarked for Algeria, where, after assisting in several campaigns, he voluntarily entered himself in the 3rd Regiment of Spahis, then quartered at Boue. Figuring to myself a species of Gorgantua, a Van Amburgh, endowed with herculean properties, added to the vivacious temperament of a Frenchman, I was greatly surprised to find myself in the presence of a young man, delicate, and almost feminine in appearance, with small white hands, and a look in which sweetness was blended with a calm and serious expression of countenance, although a close observer might remark traces of that energy and indomitable courage which have so remarkably distinguished his career. From having so long sojourned amongst the Children of the Desert, Gerard appeared to have acquired much of the tranquil nity of their manners. Taciturn-the few words which he uttered were pointed and expressive; and the rich costume which he wore, as Marechal de Logis of the Spahis, rendered him an object from which it was difficult to withdraw the attention during the evening. Near to him was seated M. Delagorgue, the celebrated traveler and elephant hunter; and the rest of the company consisted of about fifty choice and frank convives, lovers of the chace, well prepared to do honor to the festive occasion which had united them. The banquet took place in a large saloon of the Hotel Frascati, which was brilliantly lighted and hung around with implements of the chase used in various countries; while upon the table was placed an enormous lion, flanked on either side by a gazelle and antelope, stuffed with great skill. The president on this occasion was Count D'Houdelot, a keen and thorough sportsman, and a type of the perfect French gentleman-affable, intelligent, and self-possessed. He acquitted himself to the evident satisfaction of all present and, in awarding all the honors of the entertainment to the two distinguished guests of the evening, contrived adroitly to bring into play the convivial talents of all the company, aiding with his own voice to chaunt the glories of the chase. Africa at that time was in commotion: the holy war had roused the Arabs from their habitual torpor Abd-el-Kader, at the head of a numerous body of troops, animated with a desire of vengeance against the infidels, had obtained some advantages over the French army, and a frightful massacre of the invaders inaugurated on every side the second occupation of the country; but the Arabs soon lost ground, and a season of comparative tranquillity ensued. On his first arrival in the corps, Gerard-completely absorbed in his military studies-rarely m dulged himself in the pleasures of the chase: the prey consisting of red and gray partridges, hares, and waterfowl, which were so plentiful that the most inexperienced sportsman could not fail of success. For a long time the environs of Boue were untroubled by any commotion or rumor of war; and the only service of the garrison consisted in watching at a distance some few tribes who remained yet unsubjected. Active and ardent, Gerard caused himself to be The memory of this very pleasant and social meet-enrolled amongst the Spahis who were about to push ing will not easily be effaced; especially as Count D'Houdelot (with his usual kindness) procured me some particulars of the life of Jules Gerard, which have never yet been brought before the public. The "Lion-slayer," as he is emphatically termed the war in the Guelma, an advanced post on the northern side of the inferior chain of the Atlas; and he took a part in the expeditions of 1843, 1844, 1845, and 1846, obtaining the honorable distinction of being mentioned twice in the address to the army, and it was thus as a soldier Gerard distinguished himself | his watch that night was fruitless. The mighty before obtaining celebrity as a lion-killer. These powerful brutes had, at different times, committed great devastations in the neighborhood of Guelma; and such was the fear they created, that for a long period no check to their rapacity had been attempted. Gerard, who delighted in feats of danger, took a sudden resolution to devote himself to their extermination. One day the news arrived that an old lion had descended the chain of the Atlas, and had laid waste the country of Archevua, situated within a short distance of Guelma. Men and cattle had been carried off by the enormous beast, and the population was in consternation. Gerard, at once, undertook to face the animal; and, accompanied only by his dog, a powerful and noble animal, he set out to traverse the vast plain of Guelma, which is interspersed with ravines, defiles, and small streams, abounding also with vegetation of the most luxuriant description beast had probably gorged himself with his prey of the preceding days, and did not leave his lurkingplace. The morning found Gerard still on the spot, beating up the bushes and exploring every defile; hyenas and jackals crossed his path unmolested, and even a panther had been disregarded had one made its appearance, for-by accident-one of the barrels of his double-barreled gun had been rendered useless, and he was desirous of reserving the other for the lion's share. A Roman would have considered this an ill-omen; but it only served to render Gerard more resolute in his purpose. At length, toward eight o'clock in the evening, a terrific roar, which echoed far and wide, announced to the intrepid hunter his enemy. At this fearful cry, nature seems to shudder: other animals flee and hide themselves. Gerard was moved his heart beat fast, but it was with joy; the same feeling that has animated the breast of a Bayard at the moment of danger. In a few minutes, Gerard had gained the spot, his dog hanging back with every mark of terror-not even barking, for the horror of the situation had silenced him at a few paces distant stood the majestic animal, his mane floating wildly, and his jaws bloody. After minutely inspecting the scene of the monster's depredations, and making himself perfectly acquainted with the focality, he returned to the encampment, and there quietly awaited the approach of night. Evening had already set in, and the trumpet sounded the signal of repose. A group of soldiers had gathered in the tent that Gerard entered. Some were sipping their coffee, and chatting over the different events of their campaigns; and one amongst them, who had been taken prisoner by the Arabs, and had sojourned some time with them, was chanting some of their national songs. That of Arsenne, a long and monotonous ballad, arrested Gerard's attention, for it applied to the undertaking on which he was about to venture his life. Arsenne, a Turk by birth, had acquired under the held the royal beast dead at his feet. former Beys of Constantine great renown as a lion-hunter, or, rather, lion-entrapper; and the means he employed were cunning and artifice. At one time mounted in a tree; at another, hid in the cavities of rocks: always sheltered, he contrived to kill a great number of these quadrupeds without once daring to face them. This alone was wanting to complete his glory, and gain the entire heart of her who loved him. One day, with her sweet voice, she said to him The lion at night sees in man a certain prey: far from flying, he then always attacks him. Gerard knew this well: so, employing to advantage this eternity of some seconds, he accustomed himself to meet with an unwavering glance the fierce regards of the lion; and, after coolly adjusting his gun, he fired. The shot entered the animal's head, between the eyes, and proved fatal. The lion rolled himself in agony, lashing the ground with his tail furiously; and, when the smoke had cleared away, Gerard be The news of this defeat was received with great joy by the populace of the neighboring villages: men, women, and children cried with joy, and a scene of festivity ensued in honor of the brave hunter. A long line of transparencies lighted up the surrounding valley, and the body of the lion was carried about with acclamations. It was one of the great kings of the Atlas, shot in the full development of vigor and beauty. Gerard was regarded after this feat with super "Arsenne, hearest thou the roar of a lion in yon stitious wonder by the Arabs. They demanded a mountain?" "I do," replied the hero. "You must bring me his fleece this night: not as a trophy of your dexterity, but as a proof of your courage; for it is in open fight that you must attack the animal." She spoke, and waited. Arsenne-the loving Arsenne, to please his affianced, sought the traces of the lion; but, a few days after, the bones of the adventuring hunter were found in a ravine. Nowise discouraged by the tragical finale of this ditty, Gerard, after lighting his pipe and bidding adieu to his comrades, took his course to the spot where the lion was supposed to be entrenched: but piece of his clothes, to keep, as a trophy, a relie, or a mysterious amulet: like at Lutzen, in 1813, when each man of the company of the 84th Regiment carried, attached to his breast, a little piece of blue cloth, torn from the emperor's cloak. Gerard was soon called upon again to avenge the cause of humanity. Having occasion to proceed to Malhouna, situated a few miles from Guelma, he found the inhabitants obliged to light fires around their dwellings to keep off a lion, who every night made away with their cattle, and whomever crossed his path. At the hunter's command the fires were extinguished, and he engaged to peril himself in order to secure their safety. Better armed this |