Literary cadet and Rhode-Island statesman. [volume] (Providence, R.I.) 1827-1829, 1827-05-30

Js AN officer"
"By heaven il is false !; let me bur
Naow my traducer," exclaimed Hen
~.
"My son! your traducer is the
world, and the evidence of j, are let
'ers written by your commanding Off
GERS, which myself have seen, and in
that hour ofshame and anguish wished
thy mothers womb had been barren,
or that thou hadst fell fighting as be-
came a brave man. Those letters are
now in the possession of your friend,
Peyton Anvil; and to night, y.ur
once loved Mary and he are TO be mar
ried. When she heard Of your con
duct, she came to me and wepi, and
bade me farewell" She said she
could never forget her former dreams
of your magnanimity and bravery, nor
could she think Of wedding mao who
had so far disgraced himself. She has
accepted the offers of the Vealthy Poy-
ton, her fathers first choice"
The father did not peceive that the
latter part of his address was unheard,
unheeded. He had been a soldier
and was accustomed to use soldiers
language-to speak honestly and
bluntIy. Henry sank upon chair,
and for some time glared ghas,ly a
his stern father. Mrs. Stanley wep' I;
and even the honest and light hearted
Scotchman sighed, as he said, "by St.
Andrew but the man be skellum."
Henry arose, and looking wildly
around, rushed out of the room with
curses quivering OH his Ii ps, he
was followed by the good Scot, who
began to feel that the philosoph, Of
his good humour was not proofaeaius.
the trials and suflerings Of his friend.
Not being able to overtake Henry, he
returned to Mr. Stanl y to clear up the
character Of his son. Mr.. Stanley
would not listen to him, or if he did,
would not believe him; but looked up
OF him as one of Henry's underlings
come prepared to swear or 90 an,
thing for his paymaster. On all other
subjects than that of his honour Mr..
Stanley was calm. reasonable, ami
dignlied; but to touch upon this ten
der point in his character, in any, the
most distant manner, was TO call down
Oh the head OF the aggressor, the i'm
petuous vengeance Of madman.
Al! the beauty of the village were
collected in the bridal hall to witness
the marriage ceremonies, and to par
take in the hilarity Of the evening"
there was many light heart and
sparkling eye; many an elegant form
and sensitive mind, which sought in
the opposite side of the room for their
favourite objects Of endearment. All
was joy and mirth, repressed only by
the presence of the Village Parson,
who sat in the "big arm chair" en-
joying their innocent pleasures -
Such was the face of this agreeable
I,ttIe company, when the bride and
the joyous bridegroom were ushered
into The room by their proper atten-
dants. She. the ill-fated Mary, was
not dressed in any of those ornaments
usually worn on such occasions she
was only drest in the plainest white
the wedding ring, which she had chos-
ell herself, was chrystal set around
with jet. She was lovlier than her
companions had ever seen her, but still
there was something of gloom upon
her counlenance, and which was at
tr'buted to any other than the tru.
cause The ceremony had proceed
ed, the happy bridegroom had given
the fatal ring which sealed his vllainy
to his friend, and his duplicity to the
lovely Mary, when haggard being
pr ,ented himself before them--Mary
tainted in the arms of her attendants,
the females shrieked, and the good
old man let the prayer book fall to
the floor; Peyton stood dumb and
motionless-they all recognised in the
sorrow-worn countenance, and the wa
ming form of the being before them
the once elegant and esteemed Henry
Stanley. They knew that Mary and
he had been engaged, and before the,
had recovered from their surprise,
Henry sprang towards Peyton and
gave him fatal stab-he reeled, and
sunk lifeless upon the floor. Henry
with fiend-like laugh, shouted
"This is your Bridal Hourly Ma
ry mad not yet recovered--he looked
at her earnestly and tenderIy, as il