exclaimed the affrighted girl, “it is—­it must be—­Henri!” The youth made an effort, and cried out, in a frantic manner:  “Yes!  Henri, the murderer of his beloved; the assassin of Louise!” He then again fell down exhausted, and to all appearance dead.  Guillaume had him conveyed to his father’s, where every assistance that skill could devise, was tendered him; but he only recovered his recollection sufficiently to learn from Isabelle, that a person named Louis had brought positive intelligence to Verny, that Henri had espoused his master’s daughter at Lyons; that her father himself had made him acquainted with the circumstance, and that he had seen the newly married couple in all the raptures of connubial happiness.  It was impossible to discredit this news, which was a death-blow to the sensitive Louise.

After having listened to this melancholy narrative, Henri, when he had regained sufficient composure, entrusted Isabelle with his vindication, for Louise’s parents and his own, and expired without a groan the next day.  The same moon which had illuminated his betrothed’s funeral shone upon his, and they repose beside each other in the picturesque burial-ground of Nuneville, not quite forgotten or unlamented by its inhabitants.—­Abridged from a collection of interesting Tales and Sketches, entitled “A Cantab’s Leisure."

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THE ANECDOTE GALLERY.

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BEARS ON THE ICE.

From the Tales of a Voyager.

With two boats, we assailed six of these animals, who had collected round the “crang,” or carcass of a whale.  After lying at the bottom of the sea for some time, the body of the whale rises to the surface, probably buoyed up by gas generated by putrefaction in its entrails.  This circumstance is by no means uncommon, especially late in the summer, when time has been allowed for fermentation; but it seems to point out that the depths of the Arctic Ocean contain few or no animals to prey upon the numerous carcasses which are let sink after flinching, since, otherwise, the mass would become pierced and unable to float, if not wholly devoured.  We slew five of the six bears, and brought a half-grown cub on board alive.  This poor harmless beast was wounded in two or three places superficially with a boat hook, but its disposition seemed scarcely to have warranted these trifling blows.  I was moved to compassion as it sat upon the jaw-bone of a whale, which projected beneath the tafrail, at one moment devouring pieces of its mother and sister with avidity, and at the next stretching its throat and blaring out mournfully, when a fragment of ice met its view, passing astern as we sailed on our course.  It was about the size of a sheep, and after their tea the sailors got it down below, and turned it loose betwixt decks, from whence it sent up all hands with precipitation,