's eye

Shall check my sympathetic sigh.

With this resolution fixed in her mind, one dark and dreary night, when
the winds whistled and the tempest roared, she received intelligence
that Elfonzo was then waiting, and every preparation was then ready, at
the residence of Dr. Tully, and for her to make a quick escape while
the family was reposing. Accordingly she gathered her books, went the
wardrobe supplied with a variety of ornamental dressing, and ventured
alone in the streets to make her way to Elfonzo, who was near at hand,
impatiently looking and watching her arrival. "What forms," said she,
"are those rising before me? What is that dark spot on the clouds? I do
wonder what frightful ghost that is, gleaming on the red tempest? Oh,
be merciful and tell me what region you are from. Oh, tell me, ye strong
spirits, or ye dark and fleeting clouds, that I yet have a friend." "A
friend," said a low, whispering voice. "I am thy unchanging, thy aged,
and thy disappointed mother. Why brandish in that hand of thine a
javelin of pointed steel? Why suffer that lip I have kissed a thousand
times to equivocate? My daughter, let these tears sink deep into thy
soul, and no longer persist in that which may be your destruction and
ruin. Come, my dear child, retract your steps, and bear me company to
your welcome home." Without one retorting word, or frown from her brow,
she yielded to the entreaties of her mother, and with all the mildness
of her former character she went along with the silver lamp of age, to
the home of candor and benevolence. Her father received her cold and
formal politeness--"Where has Ambulinia been, this blustering evening,
Mrs. Valeer?" inquired he. "Oh, she and I have been taking a solitary
walk," said the mother; "all things, I presume, are now working for the
best."

Elfonzo heard this news shortly after it happened. "What," said he,
"has heaven and earth turned against me? I have been disappointed times
without number. Shall I despair?--must I give it over? Heaven's decrees
will not fade; I will write again--I will try again; and if it traverses
a gory field, I pray forgiveness at the altar of justice."

Desolate Hill, Cumming, Geo., 1844.

Unconquered and Beloved Ambulinia-- I have only time to say to you, not
to despair; thy fame shall not perish; my visions are brightening before
me. The whirlwind's rage is past, and we now shall subdue our enemies
without doubt. On Monday morning, when