less fortune.

"There is Italy in those strains," said the Rover, when the last chord had
died upon his ear; "sweet, indolent, luxurious, forgetful Italy! It has
never been your chance, Madam, to visit that land, so mighty in its
recollections, and so impotent in its actual condition?"

The governess made no reply; but, bowing her head, in turn, her companions
believed she was submitting also to the influence of the music. At length,
as though impelled by another changeful impulse, the Rover advanced
towards Gertrude, and, addressing her with a courtesy that would have done
credit to a very different scene, he said, in the laboured language that
characterised the politeness of the age,--

"One who in common speaks music should not have neglected the gifts of
nature. You sing?"

Had Gertrude possessed the power he affected to believe, her voice would
have denied its services at his call. Bending to his compliment, she
murmured her apologies in words that were barely audible. He listened
intently; but, without pressing a point that it was easy to see was
unwelcome, he turned away, gave the gong a light but startling tap.

"Roderick," he continued, when the gentle foot step of the lad was heard
upon the stairs that led into the cabin below, "do you sleep?"

The answer was slow and smothered; and, of course, in the negative.

"Apollo was not absent at the birth of Roderick, Madam. The lad can raise
such sounds as have been known to melt the stubborn feelings of a seaman.
Go, place yourself by the cabin door, good Roderick, and bid the music run
a low accompaniment to your words."

The boy obeyed, stationing his slight form so much in shadow, that the
expression of his working countenance was not visible to those who sat
within the stronger light of the lamp. The instruments then commenced a
gentle symphony, which was soon ended; and twice had they begun the air,
but still no voice was heard to mingle in the harmony.

"Words, Roderick, words; we are but dull interpreters of the meaning of
yon flutes."

Thus admonished of his duty, the boy began to sing in a full, rich
contralto voice, which betrayed a tremour, however, that evidently formed
no part of the air. His words, so far as they might be distinguished, ran
as follows:--

"The land was lying broad and fair
Behind the western sea;
And holy solitude was there,
And sweetest liberty.

The lingering sun, at ev'ning, hung
A glorious orb, div