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VELASCO, OR THE ELOPEMENT. BY A. W. NONEY.

"Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.". DONA Constanza de Tolosa sat by the window of her apartment gazing upon a rich and lovely landscape, whose summer verdure, slightly tinged with the golden bloom of early autumn, was then sweetly glowing in the mellow radiance of the moon. She held in her hand a beautiful half-blown rose that had been thrown unobserved into the room, upon one of the leaves of which was written the laconic communication-" Le amo de corazón― VELASCO !" Over this she had long wondered without having the slightest idea whence it came, or for what purpose it might be intended, except to excite her wonder, as she was unacquainted with the name of 66'Velasco," and also unconscious of having ever attracted the admiration of a stranger. But her eyes were now tracing the course of the gracefully winding Tagus whose tranquil waters, glittering like molten silver, flowed within a few yards from beneath the casement, thence brightly onward amidst groves and vineyards until lost to her view in the distance ; yet her thoughts were wandering back through the green vista of girlhood to those sunny hours when she, a gladsome child, roamed in careless gayety along its fertile banks, plucking bright flowers to wreath in her dear mother's hair, and dreaming of naught save the future joys that were in store for her. She was happy then, aye, truly so ! She felt the reality now of those blissful scenes which had seemed only glimpses of happier days to come ; for since then she had strown the last flowers she could bear to pluck thence over that dear mother's grave ; and there was now neither parent or kin left in the wide world to love her. Shefelt that her fate was lonely and friendless, even though she remained the sole heiress of a proud and wealthy house, and was also possessed of beauty and attractions that might readily have enabled her to rank peerless above the loveliest maidens of Spain's sunny clime. Yet these were as nothing-for they yielded her no pleasure ; while they were as dross compared to the wealth of affection pent up within her pure bosom, and yearning to gush forth in one clear stream of rapture at the feet of some beloved object. Placed, while yet a child at her mother's death, under the care of Senor Lopez, a stern guardian, she had been kept as it were, a lovely flower to deck his own alcová with the watchful jealousy of a lynx-eyed Argus ; who seemed ever fearful that the world might rob him of his treasure-the interest of her estate, his fee in guardianship. He had kept her almost estranged from society, with little more freedom than the privilege of gazing, as

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now, from the windows of her dreary prison-house upon the bright scenes around, from whose enjoyments she was tyrannically shut out ; but when nearly placed by her years above this surveillance, he was fain to relax somewhat the vigilance with which he had hitherto guarded her from the snares and temptations of the world; and she at times ventured forth, like a bird from its cage, to taste the sweets of liberty, though ever accompanied in her wanderings, that she might not even then be free from restraint. While thus enwrapt with saddened reflections of the past, joined with doubtful anticipations of the future, the tones of a guitar, playing a light and happy air, reached her ears, and attracted her attention. Turning in the direction whence they proceeded, she observed a small pinnace sailing gently down the stream, passing as she supposed from the villa above. To her extreme surprise, when arriving opposite her window, it turned in toward the shore, while its occupant observing her arose and bowed-then touched a few notes on his instrument and sang the following :A wand'rer return'd to my home once again ; In my own native valleys so dear, I've found a rich treasure I sought for in vain, Through all the wide world save my beautiful Spain, Unconscious the jewei was here ; By the banks of her sweet flowing streamAnd pure as its wave's limpid gleam. I've roved from the West to India's bright shore, From North to the South ever free ; But ne'er had I seen when my travels were o'er, As I turn'd to my home to wander no more, A maiden so lovely as thee ; Thou brightest of earth's fairest daughtersA queen by my own Tagus' waters. I've gazed on the charms of the " Maids of Cashmere," And glanced in their " love-lighted" eyes ; Yet their light ne 'er shone with a magic so dear, Nor their beauty so sweet as thine doth appear, Thou flower of my own native skies ;— Freshly blooming in fragrance and pride, By the margin of Tagus' clear tide. I love thee! I love thee ! with heart and with soul! And passion as ardent as free! Which aye may endure without check or control, Ever changelessly true while Tagus shall roll, Its bright swelling waves to the sea. Ah! tell me not in vain do I woo ! And bid me, sweet angel, adieu ! The Dona listened with delightful astonishment to the words of the song, deeming them very flattering, though perhaps a little extravagant. His voice had a manly sweetness in it that captivated her ear ; while the graceful dignity of his bearing gave assurance that he was of a superior order to the common-place caballeros whom she usually saw passing and repassing up and down the river ; and the fervent air and tone with which he sang, caused an undefinable sensation to arise within the breast, while her warm heart increased its pulsations, as if thrilling under some rapturous excitement. He had scarcely finished, however, when she was