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with irons, into a dungeon: and Blanche, notwithstanding her youth and condition, met with a similar fate. In her prison, this unhappy woman brought into the world the unfortunate fruit of her love for St Andre. They would have robbed her of her infant; but her resistance, her lamentations, and her tears, were powerful enough to melt the savage bosoms that now for the first time were sensible to pity. They permitted her child to remain, and that she might preserve his life, she was careful of her own. In the mean time, St Andre driven to desperation, raving, and furious, invoked vengeance, and demanded Blanche or death. Three months were passed in this dreadful situation. At length he was informed that a person was arrived with a message to him from his father. "My father!" he exclaimed: "I have no father!" At this instant he beheld ⟨a⟩ person whom he knew to be a steward of M. de Vilmore. "Ah!" cried St Andre, "has the barbarian, who sent you, at last heard my prayers? Are you the messenger of death? That is the only favor I can expect from him." "Compose yourself, Sir," answered the
