rther rewarded, and promised faithfully to be in
readiness at any hour. Thus, all things arranged, Ralph returned to his
chamber, and without removing his dress, wrapping his cloak around him,
he threw himself upon his couch, and addressed himself to those slumbers
which were destined to be of no very long continuance.

Forrester, in the meanwhile, had proceeded with all the impatience of a
lover to the designated place of _tryst_, under the giant sycamore, the
sheltering limbs and leaves of which, on sundry previous occasions, had
ministered to a like purpose. The place was not remote, or at least
would not be so considered in country estimation, from the dwelling of
the maiden; and was to be reached from the latter spot by a circuitous
passage through a thick wood, which covered the distance between
entirely. The spot chosen for the meeting was well known to both
parties, and we shall not pretend, at this time of day, to limit the
knowledge of its sweet fitness for the purposes of love, to them alone.
They had tasted of its sweets a thousand times, and could well
understand and appreciate that air of romantic and fairy-like seclusion
which so much distinguished it, and which served admirably in concert
with the uses to which it was now appropriated. The tree grew within and
surmounted a little hollow, formed by the even and combined natural
descents, to that common centre, of four hills, beautifully grouped,
which surrounded and completely fenced it in. Their descents were smooth
and even, without a single abruptness, to the bottom, in the centre of
which rose the sycamore, which, from its own situation, conferred the
name of Sycamore Hollow on the sweet spot upon which it stood. A spring,
trickling from beneath its roots, shaded by its folding branches from
the thirsty heats of the summer sun, kept up a low and continuous
prattle with the pebbles over which it made its way, that consorted
sweetly with the secluded harmonies that overmantled, as with a mighty
wing, the sheltered place.

Scenes like these are abundant enough in the southern country; and by
their quiet, unobtrusive, and softer beauties, would seem, and not
inefficiently or feebly, to supply in most respects the wants of those
bolder characteristics, in which nature in those regions is confessedly
deficient. Whatever may be the want of southern scenery in
stupendousness or sublimity, it is, we are inclined to believe, more
than made up in those thousand