graves.” So ſaying ſhe roſe up, and taking Sir Bertrand by the hand, led him to the couch, where he took his repoſe for a few hours. Early in the morning he took his departure, promiſing to return ſoon. He was as good as his word; and in a few days, the prieſt united them for ever. The marriage was attended with great pomp, both of eccleſiaſtic and military men, who all beſtowed, the moſt liberal benedictions upon this happy pair.
THE
STORY OF
FITZALAN.
From the Monthly Viſitor.
It was after ſun-ſet, one evening, in the decline of autumn, when, in conſequence of a letter which he had juſt received, ſummoning him to attend the death-bed of a much-loved friend, the protector of his infancy, that Fitzalan, after having moſt affectionately embraced and bade adieu to his beloved wife Edith, and his infant Edwin, mounted his ſteed, and departed from his dwelling. He had many miles to travel; and a great part of the road he was to purſue, lay over a bleak and dreary heath of immenſe extent. He quitted his home, though only for a ſhort time, with extreme reluctance; and, notwithstanding his haſte, while it remained in fight, often flopped and looked back to catch another glimpſe of the place which contained all that he held dear. Edith, and her little boy, followed him to the gate, waved their hands to him while he remained viſible; and when the diſtance and the advance of night hid him from them, returned to the houſe in a melancholy mood. Edith trembled for her huſband, though ſhe knew not why: the tears ſtole faſt down her cheeks; and little Edwin, ſeeing his mother weep, claſped his
