would anywhere look down upon either a lovelier or a happier spectacle than the one in the room below, by the couch of her own sleeping infant.

She remained here with truly Christian patience, until the chill of the freshening breeze from the ocean warned her of the danger of too protracted a stay, when, as she descended the steep and circuitous steps that led to the turret, she met the happy Esteer, hastening to warn her how late it was. Benaliel had left her; he had much to do that night before day-break when he would be on his way to the capital. Deeply penetrated with remorse and mortification, Benaliel's mother on the following day waited on Esteer with costly garments, richly embroidered, and the gold-wrought zone of Fez to encircle the rounded beauty of her form. Rich treasures of pearls were braided into her dark flowing hair, and rose and sank with the swell of her happy bosom and anklets and armlets of heavy gold and gleaming gems, tinkled and shone as she moved her graceful limbs to embrace the donor, in whom she remembered nothing but that she was Benaliel's mother.

According to the customs of her people it was proper for Esteer to be under the roof of her own people, and she was therefore taken home by Madam Zaguery to prepare for her nuptials. Her friends, to whom she had been so faithful and devoted, and from whom it cost her no slight pang to part, were given the seat of honor, next to Benaliel's father and mother, on the last nuptial evening for the ceremonies were continued during three in succession. On a rich and substantial case rested a

glass vase of crystal clearness. A Rabbi with a truly Rabbinical beard, elevated above the rest in the centre of the apartment, addressed them at great length on their various duties; at the conclusion of which the vase was presented to him. Raising it to the utmost height of his arms, he let it fall to the floor beneath him. The countless atoms to which it was broken were then carefully gathered up and deposited in the case, which was sealed and placed in the Rabbi's keeping, as a type of the indissoluble union of the parties, who could not be separated on earth till these broken fragments should reunite themselves into the pristine form and clearness of the shattered crystal ;-and this was the deed, the record, of a Jewish Barbary marriage. This time, at least, I hope that Hadzar's augury of "good luck" from a broken glass was just.

With a bright sun and a favoring breeze, Esteer set sail with her faithful Benaliel; and she parted from her former attached mistress and equally attached child, on the same spot which about three years before had witnessed a different parting. This time there was no bowl of milk poured upon the wave that danced brightly and buoyantly beneath the tossing boat. The Christian lady herself, shortly afterwards left Mogadore, or Swarrah, and has never since heard further tidings of her "POOR ESTEER." If she is living still, her former mistress wonders greatly, how she would like to see her story thus simply and truly related in the Democratic Review

and to know that the infant charge she nursed so tenderly and well, has become its Editor!

THE scene we stopped to contemplate might have employed the pencil of the first of Germany's landscape painters. Sublimity was here, as well as beauty, on which the eye could never be weary of dwelling. The ruins of the cloister at Bruchsal had melted away in the distance; but before us was a broad range of mountains, some of them castle-crowned; the upper line of the Black Forest could be traced in relief against the dusky blue background; and there were hills covered with verdure, sprinkled with vineyards, and with groves of the peach and almond tree; patches of woodland, meadows of luxuriant green; a plain like a map of pictures, and winding through the valley the silver Pfinz, hastening to mingle its stream with father Rhine.

On the steep side of the mountain could be seen the ruined walls of a high, square tower, so black and ancientlooking, that it seemed to have been built many years before the old castle to which it had belonged, although this once stately pile had been desolated by the hand of time.

It was a pleasant afternoon's excursion to ascend the mountain, partly by a winding path, partly by steps roughly hewn in the rock, to the solitary ruins. There, standing on the massive arch which for centuries has crowned the precipice, hovering almost in mid-air, all sense of danger is lost in admiration of the unrivalled view. The eye, as it follows the luxuriant valley of the Pfinz, rests in the distance on the spires of Pforeheim, and the lofty chain of the Black Forest Mountains; to the left are the town, and the hamlet-sprinkled plain of Baden-Baden; and new objects of interest and wonder burst on the view, as one traces upwards the majestic

PROMETHEUS UNBOUND.

Rhine, till on the verge of the horizon rises, in misty indistinctness, the gigantic tower of the Strasburg Cathedral. It is long before the eye takes in the different points; now it lingers on the animated picture of Durlach, now wanders through the poplar avenues to Carlsruhe; now glances at Landau, or Speier, the monument of so many emperors, now rests on Mannheim, or Frankenthal, or roves in unsated delight over the beauty so many pens have celebrated--of the Palatinate of the Rhine.

A gentleman of the party, who had lived many years in Germany, informed us the tower had been destroyed a long time before the desolation of the other buildings. A superstition connected with the place had prevented its ever being rebuilt. At the request of several persons curious in tales of the wild and strange, he consented to relate the story

promising only that he could entertain us with no pranks of ghost or hobgoblin. It was only a simple narration of facts, far enough removed, however, from the present time to be invested with a coloring of romance. I give the story as he told it.

At the close of the Thirty-Years' War, this castle was owned and inhabited by Conrad, Baron von Runsitten. He lived in singular retirement ; and though the father of two sons, educated them at a distance. He sent, under the care of different preceptors, the elder to another part of Germany, the younger to Italy. Since the death of their mother, he had remained in the castle alone, retaining but few servants, and seldom seen even by them, with the exception of one who had grown grey in his service, Daniel, the castellan. This man was as reserved and silent as

his master; a fitting confidant, therefore, for his gloomy secrets. He alone knew why the Baron had separated himself from his sons. He knew that he passed his time in the study of the occult sciences; that he was particularly devoted to astrology, and had read, in his calculations of the starry movements, a prediction that alarmed his parental affection and his baronial pride. According to this evil augury, he was threatened, in case his sons were brought home in his lifetime, with some nameless misfortune, arising from their mutual enmity, which should cause the extinction of his ancient house.

For this cause the two brothers were brought up from childhood in a kind of exile, being forbidden even to visit the place of their nativity. The old Baron so sternly and rigorously enforced obedience to this command, that his very precaution began to accomplish what he most dreaded; for the young men looked, each upon the other, as a natural enemy. Meanwhile the lonely Baron pursued his astrological studies with more intense ardor and unwearied patience than ever. Day and night were spent in the monotonous toil. It seemed as if he cherished the hope of reversing, by labor that taxed the utmost of human powers, the iron decrees of fate; of triumphing over destiny itself, by the refinements of science. He no longer appeared even occasionally in the inhabited parts of the castle, but shut himself up in the tower, waited on only by the castellan. Here at all hours his experiments were carried on, and the volumes of hidden lore were searched. No intercourse with the outer world distracted his thoughts; for he seldom spoke even to his sole attendant, who placed his food and drink on the table at stated hours, and always retired as soon as he had performed these duties. Among the few servants about the castle, the belief was current that their master was laboring in his solitude to discover the philosopher's stone, and the elixir of life.

At last it was evident that some progress was made in these scientific labors. The Baron was seen to leave the tower, and enter his old cabinet in the castle, whither Daniel was summoned. The next morning two notaries and a magistrate from the neighboring village, for whom a messenger had been despatched, came, and were

admitted into the Baron's presence. They remained all day, and left the castle in the evening; but none could ascertain what had been their business, for they were bound, it was said, by an oath of secresy.

After this, Runsitten secluded himself more closely than ever, resuming his studies and labors in the tower, and, as usual, approached only by the castellan.

It was in the beginning of November. Two of the domestics belonging to the castle, were conversing about the strange self-inflicted penance of their lord, all, as they supposed, for the acquisition of wealth and long life.

"If only the bad Fiend does not blind him to his destruction!" said one in a low voice, and knitting his brows.

'Ay," returned the other, "he risks much, in truth. I have heard of those who have been tempted to sell their souls to the enemy of mankind."

"Saint Michael preserve us!" said the first, crossing himself. "These midnight watchings bode no good."

"Then to banish the young lords, who both long to come home! Ah, we should have other times, if they were here!" And the speaker shook his head.

Just then, Daniel passed, with even a more gloomy and severe expression of countenance than he generally wore. He had apparently heard enough to inform him of the subject of their remarks, for, turning round, he sternly bade them be silent, and not concern themselves about things into which it was unlawful for them to pry. The men dared not resist this order, but muttered as they went away.

Their discontent was changed into astonishment, not unmingled with fear, when they saw the Baron himself, crossing the great hall. It might have been taken for his spectre, so pale and emaciated was he, from long confinement, vigils and mental toil. His eyes were sunken and faded; his long white hair and beard showed entire neglect; his dress was disordered. But in his countenance was an expression of triumph and rapture, strangely at variance with his worn and wretched aspect. His step was proud, and elastic as that of youth.

Call me the chamberlain !" cried he, and his voice, scarce heard for years, thrilled with strange power on the ears

of the attendants. Then turning to Daniel-he said exultingly : "The work is nearly finished; the victory is mine !"

The chamberlain appeared; he was ordered to resume the duty from which he had been so long discharged-of arraying his master's person. The rich est court-dress was selected by Runsitten. He then packed up with his own hands, all the family jewels and treasure, and ordered Daniel to carry the box to the tower. He was obeyed in silence. At nine in the evening he retired thither himself, dismissing the faithful Daniel with the command to wait in his cabinet early in the morning, as he had orders of great importance to give him. The castellan withdrew from his presence with a profound obeisance, and heard the bolts of the door carefully drawn, as he descended.

It may well be conceived that this surprising occurrence excited no small sensation among the retainers of Runsitten. These were assembled after supper, in the hall appropriated to their use, talking earnestly of what had happened, and exchanging opinions on the subject. They were interrupted by the entrance of Daniel, who commanded them all to retire to rest. This he was accustomed to do, whenever his lord had an important experiment to carry on in the astrological tower; and knowing him to be invested with authority, they prepared to obey. But before the foremost had quitted the hall, a fearful explosion was heard, that shook the whole castle, even to its rockbuilt foundations. Stunned by the shock, the assembled household stood pale and motionless, and trembling with affright. Not one dared to stir or speak. From this spell of breathless terror, Daniel was the first to rouse himself.

"I feared it!" he exclaimed-flinging up his arms-"I feared it always!" And he rushed out of the hall.

The terrified domestics hurried after him. They ascended the stairs leading to the tower, and rushed along the gallery to the iron-plated door. It was fastened within. In the extremity of agitation, the castellan called for forcing bars; they were brought, and the door was at length forced open.

A frightful scene presented itself. The whole interior of the tower had been demolished by the explosion, which yet had not been able to shatter the mas

sive walls. All was ruin and chaotic confusion. A thick smoke filled the whole space, and far down in the abyss of ruins, a feeble glimmer might be seen, which expired immediately. All was silence. It was beyond doubt, that the catastrophe had been caused by some unfortunate chemical experiment; although the retainers looked upon each other as if they thought some agency of another kind had produced their master's death. It will not be wondered at that the same belief prevailed in the neighboring country.

The castellan soon perceived that it was impossible, without a great deal of labor, to clear away the rubbish from the narrow interior of the tower, so as to remove the corpse of the late Baron. He resolved, therefore, to do nothing till his sons should arrive at Runsitten. "It is their part," he said, "to dig for their father's body, and the treasure buried with him which is their property: or to decide if they will leave both in their sad resting-place." It was wisely determined, for the faithful old servant knew he might not be able to secure the money or jewels from the cupidity of the other domestics.

Messages were despatched at once by the civil authorities, informing the heirs of Runsitten of their father's death, and requiring their immediate return to the castle, to witness the opening of the Baron's last will and testament.

With

The younger brother, Hubert von Runsitten, was the first to return, accompanied by a single attendant. He was a handsome, noble-looking_young man, of open countenance and pleasing manners, and received the salutations of the household, especially the castellan, with kindness and cordiality. Daniel loved him from the first. the communicativeness natural to one who had suffered so deep an affliction in his master's death, and longed for some object on which his sufferings might rest, he told over to Hubert the awful circumstances of the late catastrophe; informing him further of the contents of the will, to which he had been a witness. The Baron had established a right of primogeniture, and bequeathed all his estates to his eldest son, the younger to have three-fourths of the property in money and treasure, and his mother's jewels.

"Alas!" answered Hubert, "I am a

beggar, if you speak truly! My whole life must be one of wretchedness! I love the daughter of a noble German family, whom I met in Italy: her relations did not oppose our betrothal, because they expected-as I until this moment expected that half the estates of Runsitten were to be mine. But now-will they give their daughter to the beggar! And what am I other wise? We all know that my father has spent the greater part of his treasure in fruitless experiments in alchemy; as for the jewels, they are buried with him under the ruins of the tower-perhaps the prey of evil spirits!"

Daniel endeavored to comfort the sorrowing youth. "It cannot be, my lord," he said, "that your brother Rudolph will be unkind enough to insist on the rigid fulfilment of the will." "Ah, mine old friend,"-returned Hubert, "you know him not. He has been for some years privately married; his wife has no possessions, except an infant son, and he is deeply involved in debt, from the necessity of concealing his marriage from our father. Nor would I receive a gift from Rudolph; at our last meeting in childhood he suffered me to perceive what I had in future to expect from him."

It grieved the faithful castellan, not only to perceive the chagrin of his young lord, but that reflection should be cast on the memory of his late beloved master. He strove to vindicate him by revealing the secret purpose of all his wasting toil and the study of years. He had wished not only to make good the sums spent in experiments-but to obtain for his younger son an inheritance rich enough to compensate for the loss of his ancestral estates, and to enable him to purchase, in some distant land, possessions as valuable. Thus he hoped to avert the threatened calamity; and this hope he deemed himself on the point of realizing, on the night of the melancholy catastrophe.

In a few days Rudolph arrived at the castle. Every one who saw him was struck with his personal resemblance to his father. He had the same tall powerful frame, the same severe expression of countenance, and the same reserve of manner.

With him came the notaries, and it was immediately announced that, on a day appointed, the last will of the late

Baron would be opened in the presence of the people of the castle, and the civil authorities, who were invited to be present.

Rudolph sought no opportunity of conversation with his brother, and nothing more passed between them than a formal salutation. Daniel resolved on an effort to reconcile them. He begged an audience with the young Baron, and having proffered his own respects and submission, endeavored, with all the simple eloquence he could command, to set forth the claims of Hubert to his brotherly regard. Rudolph knit his brow, while a contemptuous smile curled his lip. The poor castellan had not courage to finish what he had to say, but turned to depart; and as he did so, heard the Baron say to one of his attendants-"That is the old hypocrite who encouraged my father in all his superstitious folly."

The day came, appointed for reading the testament. It was opened in the great ancestral hall of the castle, in presence of the commissary and several official persons from the village, as well as a large number of the tenants of Runsitten. The will drawn up with every legal sanction, declared Rudolph, the eldest son of the deceased Baron Conrad von Runsitten, proprietor of all the estates, and invested with the rights of primogeniture. The fourth part of the property in ready money was also given to him. Three quarters of the said personal property was left to the younger son, Hubert; and it was enjoined on him that, immediately after the division, he should leave the castle of his ancestors to settle in some foreign country, and on no account return to Runsitten during the life of his elder brother. In case of the death of Rudolph without male heirs, Hubert was to become proprietor of the castle and lands.

Pale and silent stood the younger brother, during the reading of the will; Rudolph on the other hand showed an ungenerous exultation. He received the homage of all his dependants, and took the keys of the castle from the hands of old Daniel.

"We will now proceed to the division," he said to the commissary, turning also to Hubert, with something more of cordiality. Hubert smiled bitterly, for he knew what a disappointment was in store for his brother.When