‘I have only time to say to you, not to despair; thy fame shall not perish; my visions are brightening before me. The whirlwind’s rage is past, and we now shall subdue our enemies without doubt. On Monday morning, when your friends are at breakfast, they will not suspect your departure, or even mistrust me being in town, as it has been reported advantageously that I have left for the west. You walk carelessly towards the academy grove, where you will find me with a lightning steed, elegantly equipped to bear you off where we shall be joined in wedlock with the first connubial rights. Fail not to do this—think not of the tedious relations of our wrongs—be invincible. You alone occupy all my ambition, and I alone will make you my happy spouse, with the same unimpeached veracity. I remain, for ever, your devoted friend and admirer, ‘J. I. ELFONZO.’ The appointed day ushered in undisturbed by any clouds; nothing disturbed Ambulinia’s soft beauty. With serenity and loveliness she obeys the request of Elfonzo. The moment the family seated themselves at the table—‘Excuse my absence for a short time,’ said she, ‘while I attend to the placing of those flowers which should have been done a week ago.’ And away she ran to the sacred grove, surrounded with glittering pearls that indicated her coming. Elfonzo hails her with his silver bow and his golden harp. They meet—Ambulinia’s countenance brightens—Elfonzo leads up his winged steed. ‘Mount,’ said he, ‘ye true-hearted, ye fearless soul—the day is ours.’ She sprang upon the back of the young thunderbolt, a brilliant star sparkles upon her head, with one hand she grasps the reins, and with the other she holds an olive branch. ‘Lend thy aid, ye strong winds,’ they exclaimed; ‘ye moon, ye sun, and all ye fair host of heaven, witness the enemy conquered.’ ‘Hold,’ said Elfonzo, ‘thy dashing steed.’ ‘Ride on,’ said Ambulinia, ‘the voice of thunder is behind us.’ And onward they went, with such rapidity that they very soon arrived at Rural Retreat, where they dismounted, and were united with all the solemnities that usually attend such divine operations. They passed the day in thanksgiving and great rejoicing, and on that evening they visited their uncle, where many of their friends and acquaintances had gathered to congratulate them in the field of untainted bliss. The kind old gentleman met them in the yard: ‘Well,’ said he, ‘I wish I may die, Elfonzo, if you and Ambulinia haven’t tied a knot with your tongue that you can’t untie with your teeth. But come in, come in; never mind, all is right—the world still moves on, and no one has fallen in this great battle.’ Happy now is their lot! Unmoved by misfortune, they live among the fair beauties of the South. Heaven spreads their peace and fame upon the arch of the rainbow, and smiles propitiously at their triumph, _through the tears of the storm_.