Allan, the Freebooter.
ON a jutting promontory of one of the most extensive mountains of Caledonia, arose the proud turrets of Glenross Castle, rendered by nature almost impregnable rude precipices and imprevious wilds surrounding it on all sides, and gave an air of romantic granduer to the scene, perhaps unequalled. Roderick, although posessing almost regal power, was a pray to cares; nights were nights of watchfulness, his days cankered with a sorrow, but ill disguised beneath the mask of revelry and magnificence. In vain did the ancient harper sing the heroic deeds of his ancestors; in vain did his vaulted halls resound with the shouts of the vassals for the prosperity of their lord; they but reminded him that he had no heir to inherit his honors, and that the ancient name of Strathmore would expire with himself; the Lady Malvina, to whom he had been wedded nine year was grown irksome to him; her mild virtues failed to secure his esteem, and a form still the loveliest Caledonia could boast, inspired but disgust. In vain did she renew her vows to her patron saint—the day arrived on which Roderick completed his five and thirtieth year without promise of an heir: the day was spent by the assembled vassals in mirth and festivity, and as the replenished goblet passed the board, "May our lord be blessed with an heir to his virtues and honors," burst spontaneously from every lip. Roderick, with a faint smile, bowed his lead to the salutation; but the wish rankled like a barbed arrow in his heart, and toward evening he left the festive board, and stole unheeded from the castle to calm the agitation of his mind in solitude. Immersed in gloomy reflections, he be(illegible text) his steps unconsciously toward a thick wood, which clothed with hardy evergreens one side of Glenross steep, till stopped in his career by a precipice, he leaned against a clump of fir trees, and his eyes wandered over the distant scenery now fast receding in the
