“Miss Sabb, you had best retire to the dwelling. I owe you no favors, and will remember your avowed opinion, this night, for Mat Dunbar. You have spoken. It will be for me yet to speak. Lieutenant Clymes, see the young lady home.” “But, sir, you will not maltreat the negro?” “Oh! no! I mean only that he shall obey your commands. He shall carry this note to your favorite, just as you designed, with this difference only, that I shall furnish him with an escort.” “Ah!” Poor Frederica could say no more. Clymes was about to hurry her away, when a sense of her lover’s danger gave her strength. “Brough;” she cried to the negro; “you won’t show where Massa Richard keeps?” “Never show the tories not’ing, missis.” The close gripe of Dunbar’s finger upon the throat of the negro, stifled his further speech. But Frederica was permitted to see no more. The hand of Clymes was laid upon her arm, and she went forward promptly to save herself from indignity. She little knew the scene that was to follow. [_To be continued._ * * * * * THE SPIRIT LOVERS AND THE SPIRIT BRIDAL. BY MISS L. VIRGINIA SMITH. The twilight deepened—and its dusky shades Crept through the crimson of the sunset clouds, To nestle darkly where some shining star Looped up the gorgeous foldings, as they hung Like Eden-banners, waving far around The purple arches of a southern sky. From the deep forest aisles came up the wind, Low singing in its wand’ring, with the voice Of softly chanting waves, and whisp’ring leaves. The silver moon came floating from the east, Like a young angel sleeping on the wing, Whose dream-smile glittered o’er the dewy earth, And trembling through an open casement, kissed A brow of maiden beauty slumbering there. The velvet drapery of her couch was tossed In crimson waves around her, and above Fell snowy veilings, bending like a wreath Of silvery vapor o’er a rosy sea; Carelessly graceful in her sweet repose, She rested like a lily on the stream, When drooping gently ’neath its own perfume. The dew of early youth was gleaming yet Upon her pure heart-blossoms, and the first Faint blush of love within her spirit, wrought Rich blazonry upon their mystic leaves. In slumber, through her softly rounded limbs A radiant soul in bright expression stole, Like glimpses of the evening star amid The pure white veiling of a pearly cloud. She watched the sunlight fade upon the hills, And star-flames kindle in the dusky sky— But now she rested in the land of dreams, To wait the coming of her Spirit-Love.