had been forwarded to him from Cadiz, were put into his hands. He changed colour, and, starting from his seat, begged Edric to follow him into the garden.
"Good God, what is the matter?" asked M. de Mallet.
"Nothing, nothing!" replied Roderick; "but that I must return to Ireland immediately."
And waving his hand as though to repel farther inquiry, he left the room; Edric followed in silence. "Edric," said the Irish Monarch, throwing himself into a garden-seat and burying his face in his hands; "Elvira is dethroned, and perhaps murdered, all owing to my cursed folly in remaining so long in Spain."
"Elvira!" exclaimed Edric, looking at his friend in the most profound amazement; for he could not imagine why he took so deep an interest in her fate.
"I see your astonishment, Edric," resumed the King; "but I have not now time to explain whys and wherefores. Suffice it to say, that I adore Elvira, and if she perish, I will not survive her."
A piercing shriek burst from the thicket as
