Then, bowing her forehead to the ground in an attitude of adoration, she kissed his feet, muttering at the same time some unintelligible words. At that moment a loud rushing, like the sound of a whirlpool, became audible, and Lady Zenobia was swept away by some invisible power before the marquis could extend his arms to arrest her progress, or frame an answer to her mysterious address. He paced slowly forward, lost in deep reflection on what he had heard and seen. The moon had risen over the black, barren mountains ere he reached the camp. He gazed for awhile on her pure, undimmed lustre, comparing it to the loveliness of one far away, and then, entering his tent, wrapped himself in his hunter’s cloak, and lay down to unquiet sleep. Months rolled away, and the mystery remained unravelled. Lady Zenobia Ellrington appeared as usual in that dazzling circle of which she was ever a distinguished ornament. There was no trace of wandering fire in her eyes which might lead a careful observer to imagine that her mind was unsteady. Her voice was more subdued and her looks pale, and it was remarked by some that she avoided all (even the most commonplace) conversation with the marquis. In the meantime the Duke of Wellington had consented to his son’s union with the beautiful, virtuous, and accomplished, but untitled, Marian Hume. Vast and splendid preparations were making for the approaching bridal, when just at this critical juncture news arrived of the Great Rebellion headed by Alexander Rogue. The intelligence fell with the suddenness and violence of a thunderbolt. Unequivocal symptoms of dissatisfaction began to appear at the same time among the lower orders in Verdopolis. The workmen at the principal mills and furnaces struck for an advance of wages, and, the masters refusing to comply with their exorbitant demands, they all turned out simultaneously. Shortly after, Colonel Grenville, one of the great millowners, was shot. His assassins being quickly discovered and delivered up to justice were interrogated by torture, but they remained inflexible, not a single satisfactory answer being elicited from them. The police were now doubled. Bands of soldiers were stationed in the more suspicious parts of the city, and orders were issued that no citizen should walk abroad unarmed. In this state of affairs Parliament was summoned to consult on the best measures to be taken. On the first night of its sitting the house was crowded to excess. All the members attended, and above a thousand ladies of the first rank appeared in the gallery. A settled expression of gloom and anxiety was visible in every countenance. They sat for some time gazing at ache other in the silence of seeming despair. At length the Marquis of Douro rose and ascended the tribune. It was on this memorable night he pronounced that celebrated oration which will be delivered to posterity as a finished specimen of the sublimest eloquence. The souls of all who heard him were thrilled with