ATROCITY. George Montague placed his precious burden upon the bed, and for a moment contemplated her pale but beautiful countenance with mingled feelings of admiration, interest, and desire. The lips were apart, and two rows of pearl glittered beneath. The luxuriant light chesnut hair rolled over his arm, on which he still supported that head of perfect loveliness: his hand thus played with those silken, shining tresses. Still she remained motionless--lifeless. Gently withdrawing his arm, Montague hastened to sprinkle her countenance with water. The colour returned faintly, very faintly to her cheeks; and her lips moved gently; but she opened not her eyes. For a moment he thought of summoning Louisa to her assistance; then, obedient to a second impulse, he hastily loosened the hooks of her semi-military frock-coat. Scarcely had his hand thus invaded the treasures of her bosom, when she moved, and unclosed the lids of her large melting hazel-eyes. "Where am I?" she exclaimed, instinctively closing her coat over her breast. "Fear not, dearest," whispered Montague; "it is I--I who love you." The scene with the burglars instantly flashed to the mind of the lady; and she cried in a tone rendered tremulous by fear--"And those horrible men--are they all three gone?" "They are gone--and you are safe." "Oh! you will pardon me this weakness," continued Walter, hastily moving from the bed to a chair; "but two of those villains--I recognised them but too well--were the men who threw me down the trap-door in the old house near Smithfield." "Hence their alarm--their panic, when they saw you," exclaimed Montague: "they fancied that they beheld a spirit instead of a reality. This accounts for their sudden and precipitate flight, till this moment unaccountable to me." "And you, George," said the lady, glancing tenderly toward the young man--"you are my saviour from a horrible death! Another moment, and it would have been too late--they were going to murder me! Oh! how can I sufficiently express my gratitude." She tendered him her hand, which he pressed rapturously to his lips;--and she did not withdraw it. "I heard a noise of a shutter closing violently, and of a pane of glass breaking," said Montague: "I started from my bed and listened. In a few moments afterwards I heard footsteps on the stairs----" "Those were mine, as I descended," interrupted Walter; "for I was alarmed by the same disturbance." "And, then, while I was hastily slipping on my clothes," added Montague, "I heard a scream. Not another moment did I wait; but----" "You came in time, I repeat, to save my life. Never--never shall I sufficiently repay you."