orrow a couple of livres of my sister
Claudine, who lives in the fifth story."

"Thank Heaven!" exclaimed the dying man; "that sin is off my soul!
Natalie, dear wife, farewell! Forgive, forgive all!"

These were the last words he uttered; the priest, who had been
summoned in haste, held up the cross before his failing sight; a few
strong convulsions shook the poor bruised and mangled frame; and then
all was still.

And thus ended the Young Advocate's Wedding Day.

A MURDER IN THE TIME OF THE CRUSADES.

There is, perhaps, no country or climate more beautiful than England, as
seen in one of its rural landscapes, when the sun has just risen upon a
cloudless summer's dawn. The very feeling that the delightful freshness
of the moment will not be entirely destroyed during the whole day,
renders the prospect more agreeable than the anticipated fiery advance of
the sun in southern or tropical lands. Exhilaration and gladness are the
marked characteristics of an English summer morning. So it ever is, and
so it was hundreds of years ago, when occurred the events we are about to
narrate. How lovely then, on such a morning as we allude to, looked that
rich vale in the centre of Gloucestershire, through which the lordly
Severn flows! The singing of the birds, the reflective splendor of the
silvery waters, the glittering of the dew as it dazzled and
disappeared--all combined to charm sound, sight, and sense, and to
produce a strong feeling of joy. But the horseman, who was passing
through this graceful scene, scarcely needed the aid of any external
object to enhance the pleasurable sensation that already filled his
breast. The stately horse on which he sat, seemed, by its light steps,
and by ever and anon proudly prancing, to share in the animation of its
rider. So, the noble stag-hound that followed, and continually looked up
contentedly at its master, appeared, likewise, a participator in the
general content. The stranger had indeed cause to rejoice, for he was
upon the fairest errand. He bad wooed and won the gentle heiress of a
proud, but good-hearted Gloucestershire baron--he had wooed and won her,
too, with the full consent of father, kinsmen, and friends, and he was
now on his way to the baron's castle to arrange with his betrothed the
ceremonial of the nuptials. Ride on, thou gallant knight, ride on, and
swifter too; for though the day will be yet early when thou arrivest,
thou wilt find thyself expected within t