ture; while she, alive only to its dangers, would fain have found words to implore him to desist. And yet, for a moment, each yielded to the softening influence of the scene—each forget that there was a world beyond that singing brook, whose tiny waves went murmuring along, scarce so loud as the beating of the heart. Every bough drooped in complete repose. Not a bird was on the wing to disturb the sleeping leaves—not a wind was abroad to make music among the branches.
Lucy stood looking down on the brook where was outlined the noble figure of her lover; while he gazed upon her, though he could catch only the profile, and the crimsoned cheek of the averted face.
The moon, which had been slowly ascending, now shone through an open space between the trees; and the rippling waters of the brook gave back her light in luminous vibrations.
Evelyn started. "I shall be late!" exclaimed he. "My own sweetest Lucy, farewell!—you shall hear from me to-morrow."
No longer sustained by his arm, she leant for support against an oak beside; while he loosened the bridle of his horse, which had been fastened near, and, springing at once into the saddle, in-
