"Benedicte te," said the priest. "Amen," replied Riego. Just then the curtain was lifted, and Ninetta saw Ashton's face under its folds. She trembled and shook, but uttered not a word. Then spake the priest-" Is there any here present who can allege aught against the union of Carlos Riego and Ninetta de Salvaterra?" "A "A father's curse!" shouted the marquis from the wall. father's curse!" then bowed his head, and sobbed aloud. Another rustling of the curtain, and Ashton Keynes sprang into the apartment, followed by Sancho. "I forbid the iniquitous farce that has just been enacted, and will strive against it to the last drop of my blood! Surrender, villain," he cried to Riego; "or I crush you as I would a scorpion who had crossed my path." 66 Quick as lightning, Riego drew a pistol from his belt, advanced to the niche-held it to the marquis's face-a loud report rang through the cave, and Don Juan fell down without a groan, and disappeared from view. Almost at the same moment Riego pulled a knife from his bosom and plunged it into Ninetta. So rapid had been his merciless butchery, that Ashton had hardly time to place himself on his guard, before Riego closed with him. They were very equally matched-perhaps of the two, the Spaniard was the most powerful man, as his adventurous life kept both his frame and muscles at full tension. Ashton felt himself tightly clasped in Riego's arms, who was evidently bent on forcing him to some particular spot; at length -oh, horror of horrors!-it flashed across Ashton that his goal was the plateau's brink. Desperate was the struggle which ensued. Tight locked in Riego's arms, Ashton was rolling over and over on the ground to the edge; nearer and nearer-he heard the rushing torrents of water; hotter and hotter grew the breath of his foe. He felt the crashing stones giving way beneath them; he saw the blinding spray-one moment more— oh, for the strength of a Samson! The wearied arms refuse to resist; Riego's strength seems unspent. At length, one gigantic effort-oh, Heaven help him! he has shaken off the clinging body, and it is dashed to atoms on the rocks beneath. Long did Ashton lay like one dead at the edge of the precipice; at length he opened his eyes, and, after a few minutes, crawled to the cave. Then a sight of carnage met his view. Sancho and the priest lay weltering in each other's blood. Ninetta, with her face on the ground, and a gash in her shoulder, from which trickled a stream of crimson. Exhausted and spent as he was in his late struggle for life, Ashton managed Here to tear some linen into strips and stanch the wound. Her eyes opened and met his gaze, she shut them again-content; it must be well when he was nigh; no distressing thoughts could find a harbour, no terror affright when he was near. He roused her. Flight must be instantaneous, and with great difficulty he succeeded in unbarring the door. Fortunately for him, the stone was rolled away, otherwise escape would have been impossible. Slowly they ascended the steps in the stone, and crawled up the mountain-side to the ruined hut, were he had left the mules; they mounted, and rode as fast as their exhausted state would allow them, and entered Gibraltar just as the morning sun was beginning to gild the summit of the frowning "Rock." Few people were astir in the streets, and they reached the Carthusian Monastery without exciting much observation. Ninetta was received by her uncle, the prior, who delivered her into the care of the gardener's wife. Ashton returned to his quarters and sought repose after the turmoil of excitement, and exertions, both mental and physical, he had undergone. His brother officers were all anxious to hear of his adventures, but he excused himself from receiving visitors, on plea of illness. His first step, on recovering his strength, was an expedition to the Carthusian Monastery, to see Ninetta. He found her wonderfully well considering the dreadful ordeal she had passed through, though, indeed, she could not then trust herself to speak of the horrors of the robbers' cave, and above all-her father! Youth is so buoyant, that Ashton's presence made her forget her bereavement, her friendless position, her utter dependence on casual charity; all-all was forgotten, all seemed visionary, shadowy, and unreal, but her absorbing love for him. Ashton, on his part, could not return her passion "Measure for Measure;" he had loved once as she did now. The glow of first love once gone is never felt again till the soft breezes of celestial happiness fill the soul with its essence. However, his wrecked and widowed heart felt comforted by her devotion, and he asked her to be, what he thought he would never have asked of any woman save one-to be his wife. We need not say he was accepted. Ninetta's cup of joy was full; to be with him always-never to leave him-to care for him in sickness and in health; death alone could part them. And she would be his wife! Weeks crept on, and the day fixed for the nuptials of Ashton Keynes and Ninetta drew near. The wedding was to take place in the garrison chapel, and the simple finery of the bride was all prepared. A gun from the "Rock" announced the arrival of the mail from England. An hour more, the letters for the officers were on the mess-room table. A deep black-edged one, in a well-known handwriting, was addressed to "Captain Keynes, H.M. 188th Regiment, Gibraltar." The owner snatched it from the table and tore it eagerly open. It was from Maud. She told him of her father's death, and her friendless position in the world; told him that Levy's fraud was discovered, and that he had been cashiered, and that all London were protesting their sorrow for the wrong they had done Ashton, and their horror at the infamy of his false friend. She added that no thought disloyal to him had ever crossed her mind; and ending by saying "she was-oh! and always had been, his loving Maud." Oh, agony of agonies! Maud still loved him-was still his, and he, false wretch that he was, was about to wed another. What was Ninetta, the toy and plaything of an hour, to his peerless Maud? Should she stand in his way? No! He would go to England that very night by the homeward mail, and throw himself into the arms of his first and only love. Thus the Tempter tempted him, and, like another Adam, he listened and fell. Hastily collecting a few clothes, he crept on board the steamer like a guilty fugitive, and by dawn he was out of sight of the "Rock.' The sun rose on the wedding morning. Ninetta arrayed herself in pure and spotless white. Hour after hour glided by, and no Ashton. The lengthened shadows began to be thrown by the setting sun-no Ashton. Night set in-no Ashton. Merciful Heaven! where is he this wild and stormy night? the waves are rolling mountains high outside the harbour bar. Midnight-no Ashton. Ashton how can you tarry thus? At length, wrapping a large black cloak around her, she crept down to the barracks, and asked for Captain Keynes. The guard-room sergeant told her he had gone to England by last night's mail, and if he hadn't would not have anything to say to such as her. Struck dumb by this, she withdrew, and almost flew rather than ran to the packet office. There she obtained a list of passengers, and the first name which caught her eye, was that of "Captain Keynes, 188th Regiment, passenger from Gibraltar to Southampton; by steamer of 29th instant." It was true, then, he had left her; left her to the mercy of a cruel, unkind world-a world that has no pity in its hard, stony heart for the miserable and unhappya world, a passport to whose smiles must be rank, honour, and above all, success," without which qualifications the unfortunate meet with the cutting sneer, the biting gibe, or taunting jest of those whom a turn of fortune's wheel has elevated for the nonce above them. "Oh, Ashton, Ashton, Ashton !" she cried, "I would have died for you, and you leave me here to die alone! Oh, Ashton, Ashton, may God forgive you as I do!—and bless you!" 66 Then reason fled. With cast-down head she ran to the entrance of the gallery leading from the barrack-yard into the "Rock." She rushed past the sentry, who thought it was an apparition from the other world, and ground his musket with a clang. On and on she sped, the thunder rolling with deafening vibrations in the galleries, the lightning flashing through the loop-holes. At length-oh, Heaven have mercy!-she stands on the summit of the frowning "Rock," her dark hair floating in the wind, and her white dress showing with dazzling brightness against the black clouds. A flash of sheet lightning. The sentries see her on the Spanish side. They think it is a spirit, and mutter in their boxes, "Madre Madonna, shield us well!" Another flash-good Heavens ! she is leaping from the "Rock"-another, she lies a bruised, shapeless, bleeding mass at its base! It is a fearful night at sea, the waves run mountains high, the wind whistles in the rigging, the good ship Dauntless is rolling in the trough of waters, with paddles broken and funnels carried away; she springs a leak; all hands to the pumps! Who is that pale-faced man, who dripping wet with sea-water is working with the strength of two; who is it leaps with a long, despairing scream into the boiling waters as the vessel sinks? "Tis Ashton Keynes ! It was a gloomy morning when the news reached England of the foundering of the Dauntless. Maud casually took up the Times, and read the list of the drowned. What name is that, so well known, so loved? 'Tis Ashton Keynes! Time, the great comforter, did his office with Maud, and she became a happy wife. She never knew Ashton's perfidy, she thought of him as hers, and hers alone. The body of Ninetta was found next morning, and buried without the prayers of the Church in the public cemetery. She was deemed to be One more unfortunate, The sentries still fancy a small form creeps by them through the gloomy galleries of the "Rock" on stormy nights, and their comrades below see on the same occasions a white figure on its frowning summit, they hear a scream-'tis but that of a passing sea-bird-but their superstitious fancies ascribe it to the restless spirit of Ninetta de Salvaterra. Requiescat in pace! THE ATTITUDE OF THE PEOPLE TO SOCIAL REFORM. WHAT affects directly and personally every man, woman, and child in the country, must be, beyond doubt, a thing of far more than ordinary importance. It is rarely we find a thing boasting such an extensive ground of operations. But assuredly when we do find such a thing we ought to be very sensible of its importance, and very guarded as to its action. The many interests it clearly affects one would think would prompt a very general supervision over its modus operandi, but it is astonishing to see with what indifference such things are systematically treated. True, their existence is recognised, and they form part of our ephemeral discussions, but they do not create sufficient interest considering the very important part they play in the affairs of the nation. Less important things are sufficiently magnetic to draw and animate public opinion, and relative to them there is a large amount of controversy and very often of bitterness. Agitating the country there are constitutional questions and scores of pet theories destined ever to be Utopian, but they do not so directly affect the temporal comfort and happiness of the whole nation in so great a measure as social reform. Anybody may indeed be excused for lamenting that so much apathy is shown to this reform. The very fact that our present rotten social condition is allowed to go on in the same shape as before, without any of the beneficial effects of civilisation being engrafted, cannot fail to bring home forcibly to the mind of the philosopher that there is a very great want of appreciation and discernment for salutary reform, and that notwithstanding so many years of hard toil the nation's accomplishment is very small. The conviction must flash across his mind that, during the vast number of years that have rolled on, splendid opportunities must have been presented for the carrying out of many more comprehensive and beneficial reforms than the country can at present boast of. Man's effort must indeed be futile, his intelligence indeed nugatory, his discernment indeed of little compass, when during the course of the last few hundred years, making up a period of the world of unexampled prosperity, and, to a great extent, of noble devotion to popular wants, public ambition has been satisfied in things otherwise than those affecting the social condition of every human being in Great Britain. Carlyle has called this age a "scavenger age," but although no doubt this is very true, it is only to a |