THE BETROTHED.⚫

"I never heard

Of any true affection, but was nipp'd

With care, that, like the caterpillar, eats

The leaves of the spring's sweetest book-the rose." MIDDLETON.

"LUCY! Lucy dear! do come down, if it is only for a minute! I have something very particular to say to you;" but Lucy made no reply. "Lucy Morgan, Lucy dear-It is I-Cynric Owen." He threw a pebble at the window; and, presently, it was gently opened, and the figure of a young girl appeared, gazing cautiously around. My dear Lucy, can't you come down to me?" exclaimed Cynric, as his dark eye sparkled in the moonlight with joy at the sight of his cousin.

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"Gracious heaven-Cynric! Is it you? in the name of all that is rash, what has brought you here?"

"What should bring me here but my true love for you, Lucy?" But come down, and I will tell you all."

Lucy hesitated a moment before she consented; but she did consent; for, although she well knew that her cousin Cynric was one of the wildest lads on the hill side, she knew also he loved her with all the warmth and sincerity of his impetuous spirit: and, notwithstanding all his errors, her heart told her too truly that she loved him as fervently. So, throwing a cloak over her dress, she joined her impatient lover.

It was a beautiful night; and of that sweet season when twilight had scarcely merged into darkness before day begins to dawn. It was not yet ten o'clock, for Pryce Morgan, Lucy's father, was an utter enemy to any innovation upon the usages of his ancestors; and as the sun rose scarcely earlier than he did, so did the god of day descend not into the sea long before our Welsh squire retired to his dormitory. This, Cynric was well aware of; and he knew that his uncle was now soundly wrapped in sleep.

Lucy was the first to speak-"For heaven's sake, Cynric, why do you run this risk, when you know that there is a warrant out against you for that unfortunate affair at Duffryn? Indeed, indeed, you are too venturesome."

"Never mind, Lucy; so that I see you, and press this kiss upon those sweet lips, I care not much about the risk. And how have you been, dear, and how is my worthy kinsman your father?"

"We have been but sadly, Cynric-all of us. My father grieves deeply about you, and seldom goes out now."

"Grieves about me, Lucy! Oh no! he, who has injured me so deeply, cannot care much about the welfare of his victim."

The facts, upon which the following Tale is founded, occurred in a family of considerable note in North Wales.

NO. XXXVII,—VOL. IV.

[VOL. 4.

"You do him wrong, Cynric, indeed you do. My father always loved you as a son, would that I had only loved you as a brother! It was your own impetuous, ungovernable spirit that brought this evil on you and on us. Oh, Cynric! I wish we had never known each other!" and Lucy's tears fell fast as she hung weeping on her cousin's shoulder.

Cynric bit his lip, as he endeavoured to restrain one of those ungovernable gusts of passion, which so often possessed him. "This is no time for reproach or explanation, Lucy," he muttered; "I came here," and now his voice was loud and hurried, " to tell you, that I love you better than ever; and by heaven I swear"

"Swear nothing now, Cynric!" interrupted Lucy, exceedingly alarmed at the vehemence of her lover. "Remember, that I am here alone with you against my father's express commands; and at an hour when I ought to be in my chamber. If you do, indeed, love me, be calm, I beseech you, Cynric."

"I will, dearest, I will; I am a fool, Lucy, a mad-brained, thoughtless fool! But you must promise me one thing, that you will give me a meeting tomorrow evening at dusk at Lowry Pugh's cottage." "I do promise," was Lucy's faint answer. "And that you will come alone?" "I will."

"Then for the present, farewell! and may God shield you from all sorrow!"

"May he shield you, Cynric, from all harm; farewell!" and so saying, the lovers kissed each other, and Lucy entered the house, while Cynric stood gazing eagerly and anxiously at her chamber window, till he saw by her shadow passing between it, and the light of her candle, that she had safely reached her apartment. He murmured a short prayer for her happiness, and then bent his steps towards a lofty ridge of hills, that skirted the horizon from east to west, lying on the face of the green earth, like a huge land-leviathan.

The situation of Cynric Owen was unfortunate in every respect; and the shadow of a dark and evil destiny had shrouded him even from his cradle. Born of a widowed mother, who had offended her kindred by marrying a profligate young man, he came into the world, unwelcomed by those glad festivities, which commonly ushered in the birth of his kindred. On the contrary, he was received by his broken-hearted and discarded mother with tears and with bewailings : for what comfort had she in the birth of such a babe? and five years afterwards, when the hand of death was upon her, the bitterness of the last hour was poignantly sharpened by the conviction that her infant son was to be thrown upon the cold charity of unkind kindred. But there was one amongst her numerous stock of uncles, aunts, and cousins, who was possessed of that infirmity a kind and compassionate heart; and while he soothed the agony of her dying hour, he still farther

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comforted the poor widow by promising to protect her child. This was her cousin Pryce Morgan, who took home the boy, a mischievous urchin of five years old.

Pryce Morgan was himself a widower, with one child, and that a daughter. He loved his wife so dearly, that her death, while yet in the full fragrance of youth and loveliness, rendered him morose, irritable, and unhappy. Thus constituted, he was, of all persons, the most unfit to rear so wayward and unbending a spirit as Cynric Owen's. It required infinitely more skill and patience than the squire possessed, to bring into proper subjection and control the fierce will of his young kinsman; and, from the very moment of his domestication at Garthmeilan, his impulses were left to take their own course, not uncontrolled entirely, it is true, but controlled in such a manner as to render their possessor only more vehement, wild, and impatient of correction.

As Cynric approached towards manhood his disposition assumed a more determined character, and his manners a more deeided tone. Impetuous as the mountain torrent, and swift in resolution as its flashing waters, his purposes were executed without a single reflection as to their expediency or consequences. "Uncle!" he would say to his guardian, " I am going to Chester-fair to-morrow. I know that the snow is deep in the valleys, and that the road is pathless and perilous; but I have promised Lucy a fairing, my word is pledged to it, and I must go.' "" And before he was sixteen years old has he ventured forth from the middle of Merionethshire on horseback to Chester, in the depth of winter, and in such weather, as the boldest shepherd dared not encounter. It was useless, and worse than useles, to remonstrate with him, and so his kinsman never attempted it, and he was permitted to do as he pleased, unchided, and often unquestioned.

One being, one gentle being, there was at Garthmeilan, who could assuage the fierce passion of Cynric Owen, sometimes even in its hottest moments. Need I add that Lucy Morgan was that gentle being? with a beauty more winning than commanding, more confiding than imposing, and with a disposition so sweet and gentle, yet resolute enough upon occasion, Lucy presented a direct contrast to her cousin. Yet was she, of all persons, the best calculated to manage him; and often, when his soul was shaken by the ungovernable mastery of his stormy feelings, she had soothed him even to tears but even she could not always succeed in allaying the fury of his passion, which burst forth like a mountain-flood, crushing, and overwhelming, and scattering abroad every obstacle opposed to its vehemence.

These natural evils were in some degree neutralized by acquirements of a character well suited to his rank, but capable of misuse and misdirection. Those manly accomplishments which become the mountaineer, and which constitute so considerable a portion of his pastime, where by Cynric Owen exercised only among persons of low condition at the fairs and wakes about the country. With such associates, it is true, he reigned paramount; and while their adulation flattered his vanity, their servile submission accorded well with that love of mastery, which so materially governed his conduct.

It was at one of these meetings at a fair in Duffryn, a secluded mountain district beyond Barmouth, that

the unfortunate affair," alluded to by Lucy, took place. During a wrestling match between Cynric's party, and some mountaineers from Caernarvonshire, a dispute arose as to the fairness of one of the throws. Words grew high, as they always do when Welshmen quarrel, and each party became more strenuous in maintaining its point. From words the transition was easy enough to blows, and before the fray ended, one of the Caernarvonshire men was knocked on the head and killed. It was said that the blow was given by Cynric; at all events, he, as the leader, and most important person of the party, was fixed upon as the offender, and a warrant had been issued for his appre hension. Since this event he had not been at Garthmeilan since the night we have mentioned; and Mr. Morgan and Lucy were much alarmed at his absence, as they had been fully apprized of the transaction. They concluded, however, that he was concealed somewhere up in the mountains; but they had in vain endeavoured to discover his retreat, as none of his usual associates knew any thing about it.

Faithful to her promise, and full of agitation, Lucy, at the appointed hour, sought Lowry Pugh's cottage. Lowry was one of those aged pensioners, who are to be found attached to the demense of every Welsh squire her best days had been spent in the service of the family; and her old age was now petted and protected by its members, in return for the fidelity of her attachment. The old woman, now more than "threescore years and ten," was very comfortable, and all that she wanted, she said, was to see her dear Miss Lucy happily married. Lately Lucy had spent a good deal of her time at old Lowry's cottage; for she had made the old woman a confidant respecting that which, by the way, every one about the house sufficiently knew, namely, her love for Cynric; and she delighted to talk of him, especially now that his fate was so uncertain and overshadowed. It was, therefore, no cause of alarm to Lowry to see Lucy enter her humble dwelling after sunset; although her agitation on the present occasion did not long escape her notice. "Dear child," said the old woman, you are not well; tell me, what is the matter ?" “I have seem him, Lowry," murmured poor Lucy; "and he will be here to-night."

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are for purposes of further outrage; and with your hot blood and daring spirit are doubly dangerous.' "Guilt!" said you, Lucy-" guilt! I am not guilty. Foolish I have been, hot and headstrong I have been ; but, by heavens, I am not guilty!"

"Speak those words again, Cynric-say them again!" hurriedly exclaimed Lucy, as her eyes beamed with transitory delight. "Oh how I have sorrowed and suffered, Cynric, when I thought that your hand was stained with the blood of a murdered man; and that the doom of a murderer was hanging over you. Why-oh! why did you not tell us this before ?"

"I did not think that you, Lucy, would believe every idle tale that the wind might blow to your ears; and I did think that you knew me better than to suppose me guilty of such a crime. I was, it is true, engaged in the fray; but the fool fell not by my hand."

"Then why not return to us? My father has some influence with the magistrates; and you, at least, might be cleared of the crime. Come back to us, dear Cynric-return with me to-night, even now!"

"To-night, Lucy! did you say to-night, and now ?" He rose from his seat, and paced the floor in a fit of gloomy abstraction. Suddenly he started, as if in a dream, and exclaimed, while his eye flashed fire,"No, Lucy, no! I will not return. To exculpate myself I must criminate others. I must turn informer and betray my friends, those friends who have succoured and shielded me. Chance has fixed this crime upon me; and I will not by accusing others clear myself,—I will die rather!"

"You say you love me, Cynric," said Lucy, mildly; "and you have often said that you prize my love. For my sake then-for her sake, who has loved you through all the changes of your wayward spirit, and who loves you still God knows how fondly! cast off this foul blot upon your character, clear yourself of this dreadful charge, and we shall all be happy again."

"You know not what you ask, Lucy-I cannot, I dare not clear myself."

"You dare not, Cynric! You, who have dared so much! Alas! you must be leagued with fearful men, if such a feeling holds you from the truth."

Urge me no more, Lucy-as you value my existence, urge me no more?" He paced the cottage hurriedly, with flashing eyes and folded arms. suddenly gazing out upon the hills, he continued :"The evening star has risen, and shines over the Crybyn. I must leave you, Lucy, and that instantly."

"Leave me, Cynric-and so soon! Cruel, cruel Cynric!" and poor Lucy sank sobbing upon old Lowry's neck,

Cynric was fearfully-terribly agitated; and his dark eye, restless even in his calmer mood, was now darting fire, as his proud heart was torn by the conflicting emotions, which filled his breast, There was his love for Lucy on the one hand, and, on the other, his duty to those who had shielded him from peril.

"It cannot be, Lucy, it must not be;" he muttered. "Another time, perhaps, I may,-1 will grant your request; but to-night-it is impossible."

"I did not expect this from you, Cynric," said Lucy, as rising from her weeping posture, she assumed an air of offended dignity. "Had I urged you to the commission of some deed of darkness, I might have

NO. XXXVII.-VOL. IV.

better borne your refusal; but to deny me this argues little for your love."

Lucy had touched the most sensitive string of Cynric's proud unbending heart. To be suspected of not loving her with all the enduring fervour and undiminished constancy, of which his ardent nature was capable-and by herself, too-was a stab-that made him writhe with agony.

"Love you, Lucy!"-he burst out. "You know I love you deeply-fondly-daringly love you! And I swear that no peril or pain, no joy or woe, shall ever change that love! And, now, reproachful girl!swear you the same to me. Swear-that whatever may be my fate you will be mine, mine only, and mine for ever!"

Lucy trembled before her agitated lover, and fearful of adding to his agitation, she murmured, as she sank once more upon old Lowry's bosom.-"I do swear, Cynric; and may God grant a happy issue, to our "BETROTHING!"

Cynric raised her from her drooping posture, and, clasping her in his arms, kissed her again and again, as he called her his own Lucy, his beloved, his betrothed Lucy. The frenzy of his impetuous spirit was instantly assuaged by the readiness of Lucy's assent; and he was now as calm as when he first entered the cottage. "We part now," he said, as he led her towards the door-" soon to meet again. Give me this token of our betrothing, Lucy, and I will give you this." He drew an antique gold ring from Lucy's finger, which he put into his bosom; and gave her in return an old gold coin, which had hung round his neck since infancy. And-impressing another kiss upon her lips, he rushed out of the cottage, leaving Lucy to watch his lessening form, as he ascended the hill-side in the gathering darkness.

Cynric pursued his way in loneliness and gloom. He had parted from Lucy-perchance-for ever! and was, at the moment, bent upon an adventure, which might end in bloodshed and murder. Lucy was right when she said that he was leagued with fearful men. He was, indeed, connected with a gang of smugglers, whose daring exploits held the inhabitants of the hills in terror, from Aberddowen to Aberdovey, a wild upland tract extending several miles on the south-east coast of Merionethshire. It was to meet these lawless men that he was now hastening: for they had fixed upon that night to run a valuable cargo of spirits. Cynric's acquaintance with these men had been of long standing; and he had frequently connived at their il licit dealings, by allowing them the occasional use of his uncle's barns and outhouses; and it was rumoured among the peasantry, that he had actually been out with them on more than one perilous expedition. It is very certain that he was exceedingly attached to all marine exercises; and it was a strong trait in his character, that he delighted to sail about the beautiful river Maw, in stormy weather. In spring-tides, as soon as there was sufficient water to lift the little skiff, which belonged to his uncle; and, when the wind was blowing hard off the land, alone and unaided, he would seek the middle of the river, and there buffet the breeze in all the daring hardihood of his daring nature; tacking about, and sporting hither and thither in imitation of the swift and boyant circlings of the sea-birds by which he was surrounded. In all the mysteries of

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boating, "Wild Cynric," as he was called, was an especial adept; and at Barmouth, when the hardy fishermen of that little port were afraid to venture out, he was gone over the Bar, and back again, despite their anxious endeavours to restrain him.

It is probable that Cynric's acquaintance with the smugglers would never have ripened into a closer intimacy, but for the unfortunate affair at Duffryn; or some other wild adventure, which would have driven him into concealment. As soon as he knew that there was a warrant out against him, rather than implicate his comrades in the fray, he fled at once to claim the protection of those whom he had himself so often befriended; and this he did the more hastily, in consequence of a quarrel he had recently had with his uncle, respecting Lucy. He was, as may be expected, received with open arms by the gang, who sympathised very cordially in his misfortunes, emphatically impre cated his prosecutors, and very heartily wished all magistrates and their minions at the devil.

The place of rendezvous, on the present occasion, was in a wild ravine, just below that most wretched of all wretched hamlets-Llwyngwril, and about six miles from Garthmeilan, This was a noted haunt of the gang; but it was so inaccessible, that there they were always secure. The ravine ran up from the water's edge between two lofty and rugged ridges of rock, terminating at the base of a very abrupt and lofty cliff, round which, wound a path so narrow, that none but a wild goat, or a practised cragsman could safely tread it. At high water the tide ran up the ravine to a considerable extent; and a broad ledge of rock on each side served as a very convenient quay for the purposes of the smugglers. Nature still farther contributed to their convenience by the formation of a natural cave or hollow in the rock on one side of the ravine, which no great labour had enlarged, so that it constitututed a habitation, and a storehouse admirably calculated for its lawless occupants.

There was a wild beauty in this lonely spot, on the night to which we have referred. As the night advanced, the tide rapidly increased; and with it the wind arose, at first, moaning plaintively among the rocks, and then rushing in swift gusts up the ravine, and dashing the foaming breakers against its rugged boundaries. The smugglers had lighted torches, the bickering flames of which, as they were blown about by the wind, cast a fitful and lurid glare upon the uncooth forms that were moving about by the waterside. At the mouth of the cave, which was just beyond the high water-mark, they had kindled a bonfire of brushwood and gorse, and this crackled and blazed, as it was fanned by the night wind, which sent the flame higher and stronger as the fuel became more extensively kindled. The vessel, a small schooner, called "The Kite," was moored as high up the ravine as the water would allow, with her cargo on board, and every thing ready for sailing at a moment's notice; and the creaking of her timbers, mingled with the screams of the cormorants and sea-gulls, did not detract aught from the wildness of the scene.

The anxiety for Cynric's arrival was increased as the hour of embarkation drew near. Already was the tide at the full, before he was seen slowly descending the path which led from the hills to the defile; and, no sooner had they caugh a glimpse of his darkened figure,

than the vessel was instantly manned; and in less than five minutes, Cynric and his crew being all on board, she was under weigh, with all her canvass crowded, and right before the wind, sending the spray from her bows, as she bounded through the waves, in a shower of liquid silver.

In rather more than an hour "The Kite," neared the point of Abermenai, a mile westward of which was the miserable hamlet, destined for the reception of her cargo; and, without any obstacle to their progress, the smugglers cast anchor in the little bay, which bounded the hamlet on the side nearest the sea. Their vessel was anchored in such a situation, as to enable them to land their cargo without the assistance of the boat, by forming a line from the ship to the shore. The business of unlading began, and was conducted with all possible celerity and secrecy. Tub after tub was handed to their comrades on the strand, and deposited safely in the carts which had been brought to receive them. Nothing was ever managed so skilfully, or seemed to promise so well; when, just before they had finished, the glare of a torch, which had been lighted, flashed upon one of the men on the beach, and revealed to the astonished smugglers the person of a well known revenue officer! Fifty hands were clutching at his throat in an instant; and cutlasses flashed in the dubious torchlight, while some cocked their pistols to revenge upon the bold intruder, the stratagem which he had thus daringly used. No sooner, however, was this anticipated discovery made, than a large posse of officers, with about a dozen soldiers, rushed forward, and rescuing the gauger, stood ready to defend the prize, of which they hnd so cleverly possessed themselves. But the smugglers were not inclined to give it up so readily, and they, also, hastened towards the beach to regain their goods.

Cynric, whose hot blood was quickly on fire, stood foremost amongst his comrades, and was immediately recognized by some of the opposite party. The gauger, a daring fellow from Pwllheli, opened the parley :"Now, I tell you what, my fine fellows, we don't want to touch any of your lives, or harm your limbs; all we want is the tubs we have helped you to run; and you shall have your schooner into the bargain-so take yourselves quietly off, and leave us the cargo."

"We will see you d-d first!" bawled a dark mouthed fellow; "and if you don't give up the goods you have cheated us of, we'll pepper your jackets with a few pills that you won't like."

The gauger whispered to those who stood near him; and then addressing himself to Cynric. "We did not expect to see you in such company, Mr. Owen; but, you may be of service to these foolish men, if you will persuade them to take the terms we offer. You see,

our party is strong, and well prepared for the worstand, I suppose, you know the penalty of resisting his majesty's officers in the execution of their duty ?"

"His majesty's devils !"—shouted the former speaker, before Cynric could reply. "We don't care for his majesty, or you either; and so, my lads, let's to work, and have a whack at the gauger!"-He made a rush forward as he spoke, followed by one or two of his comrades; and the next instant he fell weltering in his blood, aud completely transfixed with the exciseman's cutlass. All farther parley was at an end, and the conflict became general. The uproar that ensued was