made for peace. I thought,—I heard,—that a thousand blessed circumstances conduced to render you fortunate beyond all others."
"Circumstances change as fast as the fleeting clouds of an autumnal sky. If happiness depends upon occasion, how unstable is it! We can alone call that ours which lives in our own bosoms. Yet those feelings also are bound to mutability; and, as the priests have doubtless long since taught you, there is no joy that endures upon earth."
"How is this! He is not dead!—he must be———" The pilgrim suddenly stopped, her cheek burning with blushes.
"Who dead? What do you mean?"
"Your father, your brother, any one you love. But, lady, I will intrude no longer; the dews are fallen, and I find the air of the castle close and suffocating. I long for the free air."
"You will not sleep here?"
"I must not; do not ask me again; you pain me much; I must pursue my journey!"
The pilgrim gathered up her raven locks, and put on her hat; then, leaning on her staff, she held forth her little hand, and said in a smo-
