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STORY OF FITZALAN.
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the bed-ſide of Sir Edmund. She likewiſe fell into the ſnare, and was brought hither. I have ſeen her but once, when ſhe received me with indignation, and awed me into ſilence by her frown. Enraged by this reception, I ordered Hugo and Walter to diſpatch you in the dungeon; and reſolved to uſe force, if I could not by perſuaſion conquer the hatred of Edith. Heaven in its juſtice has reſtored you to liberty, and I fall the victim of my own wickedneſs. Would to God that my death might expiate all my crimes! I make you the heir of all my domains. May you long be happy with your Edith! O ſpeak pardon and peace to my guilty foul. Yet a ſhort time, O ſpare me, heaven!–O I am loft–they ſeize me–Mercy, Lord, mercy!” He faintly ſhrieked, averted his head, as if to ſhun the fight of ſomething dreadful, and expired before Fitzalan could pronounce the intreated forgiveneſs.

After gazing a few moments on the corpſe of the lifeleſs Fitzurban, whoſe features were fixed in convulſive agony, Fitzalan ordered one of the ſervants to conduct him to the chamber of Edith. When he entered ſhe was fitting abſorbed in grief, with Edwin laying in her lap, and the tears trickling from her eyes upon him. As Fitzalan advanced, ſhe lifted up her head, and frowned; but as ſoon as ſhe perceived her lord, ſhe ſprang into his arms. Edwin bounded toward him, clung round him, and expreſſed his joy by a thouſand infantine, endearing actions. Fitzalan embraced her with the moſt unbounded rapure; and when the tumult of joy had a little ſubſided, proceeded to relate his adventure in the dungeon, in the following words:–

“My dearly beloved Edith,” and with theſe words he tenderly embraced her, “Heaven has rewarded you for your conſtancy. Fitzurban, that ſlave whoſe cankered mind projected our ruin, is no more! It was his contrivance by a letter to draw me from your arms, and by the ſame artful means to bring you here for violation. His dying confeſſion to me made me tremble. He related, that in the ſame dungeon whence I have but