The first sounds that blended themselves with the returning perceptions of our heroine, were those of a soft, and she thought, well known voice, repeating in a tone, the most heart-broken, “Poor child! poor child!” She withdrew her eyes from the contemplation of the bed, and thought she beheld Mrs. Montgomery leaning over her. But when her ideas and her sense of sight both became a little clearer, she perceived that the figure she thus beheld, was not only that of a stranger, but of a being which, now that it ceased to move, scarcely seemed to live, the shadow only of a human form. Yet did the countenance possess a power over Julia like that of a spell, she could not withdraw her gaze from it. The hollow cheek, the large prominent eye, with hopelessness for its sole expression, the colourless lip, the perfectly white hair, the small and still delicate, while emaciated throat, formed a picture, which could not be contemplated without extreme pain. Julia half raising herself, exclaimed, “Where am I? where am I? oh, where am I?” each time with increasing earnestness. Her companion was silent. “Tell me, tell me, where I am!” No reply. Again she repeated her inquiries, her voice and manner becoming wild with anxiety and dread. A sudden, loud, and undefinable sound, accompanied by a pistol shot, was heard from below. The hitherto motionless form of the silent vision shuddered universally. The faint tinge of life which was stealing over the cheek of Julia fled. CHAPTER XXVII. “The rending of the heart’s last cord Was in that sound!” “Young, as spring’s first opening rose bud lovely And helpless as autumn’s last; blooming alone On a leafless stalk, bent beneath the shower, And trembling in the wintry blast.” The Euphrasia, according to the expectation announced in the papers, arrived in Plymouth Sound. She had on board a number of prisoners, taken out of two prizes she had lately captured, but which had been so much disabled, that it had been impossible to prevent their going to the bottom. Lady Oswald, who had taken up her residence at Stonehouse for the purpose of being near a great sea-port, and having thus opportunities of sometimes seeing her son, on understanding that the vessel was out in the Sound, but was to sail again immediately, went on board in a shore boat. Fitz-Ullin had communicated with the Admiral, and had received orders (all the prison-ships being full) to proceed to Leith, and dispose of his prisoners there.