from D'Rosonio recalled him to the cas tle, and his soul sickened at finding the count more tranquil; the loss of his Maria still sat heavy upon his spirits, but he sought for and found consolation in the caresses of his child: the little. Isabel and her nurse had during Montalva's absence, become inmates at the castle. She was now nearly a year old, and when one day D'Rosonio thanked that almighty power, which in depriving him of his wife, had spared to him his child, the bitterest reflections swelled the heart of Montalva almost to bursting.

"Yes, (thought he), thou art indeed the favourite of fortune, but no happiness is reserved for me; I have caused the death of an innocent girl, and the only means of atonement: I had in my power is wrested from me, and thou D'Rosonio art the cause of all; hadst thou not gained the affections of the weak and wavering Bianca, I had now been affluent and happy; no curses

would have corroded my bosom, no remorse poisoned my enjoyments."

Thoughts like these cast an unusual gloom over the countenance of Montalva; he shortened his visit and returned to Naples; restless and unhappy, he sought in vain to drown reflection in wine. The Neapolitans are strongly addicted to gaming, but though dissipated, this was a vice from which Montalva had hitherto refrained; he now, fatally for himself, sought to find in it a refuge from thought; this destructive habit soon grew into a passion; his success was various, but for some time his losses and his gains were nearly equal; this however was not long the case, fortune seemed to have set her face against him, and he lost continually; he ap plied under different pretexts to D'Ro sonio, 'till he had drawn from him a very large sum, and he feared that generous as he knew the count to be, prudence would at length stop his hand. While he was in this embarrassed and unhap

1

py state, D'Rosonio was taken suddenly ill, and a messenger from him summoned Montalva to the castle. The countenances of the domestics on his arrival sufficiently informed him of their master's danger.

"How is the count?" said Montalva to the old steward, who came to receive him.

"Alas! signor, (replied Pietro) we fear he cannot recover. The loss of our dear lady was a heavy blow, but should heaven take his excellenza, what will become of those who owe their subsistence to his bounty, he is perfectly sensible, and I know that he will rejoice to see you, signor; for he has mentioned you several times."

"Will you then, my good Pietro, enquire whether I can be immediately admitted to his chamber?" said Montal

va.

Pietro obeyed, but returned to say. that the count had fallen into a dose. "It is the first sieep, signor, (cried

that my

the old man with joy in his countenance), lord has had for some days, and please the virgin, it will do him good." The count's repose continued for some hours, and he awoke much refreshed; he was rejoiced to find that Montalva was arrived, and desired to see him immediately. Short as the count's illness had been, Montalva fancied that Pietro was right in saying that scarcely a hope of his recovery remained. In a lanquid tone, he expressed his pleasure at the sight of the signor, whom he said he scarcely hoped to have seen in this world again."

"Banish these fears, dear Fernando, (cried Montalva), you have still I hope many happy days to see."

"I think not, my friend, (replied the count), but I am in the hands of an all-merciful judge, and to his decree I bow with submissive reverence: In the event of my death I have appointed you guardian, to my child; and should hea ven be pleased to take my Isabel, be thou

my heir, I have no relation nearer than yourself, and not one half so dear."

Montalva knelt by the side of the bed, and he hid his face on it at this moment, to conceal the joy which in spite of himself sparkled in his eyes. "I know that to thee, (continued the deceived count), wealth will be a poor compens sation for the loss of the companion of thy youth; but heaven may yet restore me." An impious wish to the contrary, though it reached not the lips, burst from the heart of Montalva. From this hour D'Rosonio appeared to gather strength, and the physicians gave the most flattering hopes of his recovery; but this circumstance which filled every other bosom with joy, was a dagger to that of Montalva, From the moment that the count had told him that in the event of his own and Isabel's death, the rich domains of D'Rosonio would be his, imagination had converted his chance of inheritance into a certainty. His present difficulties were such as no