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THE MAID OF THE INN.

In the village of Darmstadt, in the electorate of Saxony, was the well known inn of the Golden Fleece. This inn had long been kept by a veteran invalid, who had retired from the service of the elector with a pension, and something in his purse, gained from the spoils of war. Andrew Risbourgh, the name of the innkeeper, had better luck than his comrades; for whilst of the regiment to which he belonged not more than fifty men had survived, and those fifty could not reckon up more than a score of legs and a dozen arms amongst them, Andrew had come safely out of the wars, with a trifling wound, from which he felt no other effect than a periodical twitch in the wet months of autumn. Andrew was about fifty years of age when he bought the stock and trade of the Golden Fleece. He had obtained his garrison discharge a few months before, and had just completed the thirtieth year of his military servitude, which entitled him to a pension from the government, and exempted him from all contribution to taxes and state imposts.

The family of Risbourgh consisted of a daughter, an

only child. Mary, which was her name, had been brought up in the family of a Saxon nobleman, and officiated about the person of an elderly woman of rank, who left her upon her death a few valuable remembrances, consisting of jewels and some plate. Mary joined part of her little fortune to her father's pension, and by this filial contribution the Golden Fleece was purchased, and the trade.of the house carried on.

Darmstadt is in the high road to Dresden; almost every traveller stopped at the inn, and was so well pleased with his entertainment, that he never failed to recommend the Golden Fleece to his friends. The military were constantly marching upon this road, and Andrew's house was the favourite post of refreshment and conviviality. Mary, at the age of eighteen, was extremely pretty, very neat in her person, active, good humoured, and obliging. She was at once mistress and bar-maid; with the help of another servant she did all the business of the house, and Andrew was called upon for little exertion, but to carry in the first dish of a dinner, and recommend the wine by drinking the first glass.

Mary in this situation had many suitors: she was known, moreover, to have some small fortune, besides being mistress of the Golden Fleece, and heiress of Andrew. For twenty miles round the neighbourhood of Darmstadt Mary was the toast of the young and old; and the "Maid of the Inn" was a name almost as

constantly repeated over the wine as the names of the elector and the Archduke Charles of Austria. Mary, though solicited by a train of suitors, many of whom spent almost all their money in the inn, for the sole purpose of winning her affections, had hitherto resisted them all; not that her heart was insensible and cold, but because it was the property of another, of Frederick Zittaw, a young farmer in the forest of Darmstadt. Zittaw was not esteemed in the neighbourhood; he was a singular, and, to all appearance, a mysterious man; his age did not exceed thirty five, but he would not confess himself so old; he had an erect carriage, was tall and bony, of a very dark complexion, piercing look, and a fine set of teeth. He was slow and hesitatingi n his speech, and did not often elevate his eyes.

Zittaw had been settled in the forest about five years; he had come, nobody knew from whence: all that the people could tell was, that he had purchased the lease of his farm at an auction, and had brought his stock from Bohemia. His farm was known not to be a very profitable concern, which proceeded in part from his inattention, (for he was much given to the sports of the field and the pleasures of the table), and partly from the very high terms at which he rented it. His landlord was the well known baron of Darmstadt, a man who racked his tenants unmercifully restrained them from all pleasures and rural enjoyments; put into severe execution the laws for

protecting game, and was in every respect such a tyrant and a hunter, that the first Nimrod was a merciful and moderate man when compared to him.

Zittaw had the misfortune to offend the baron, by falling under the suspicion of killing a hare upon his domain : the fact, indeed, was not proved against him, or he might have been imprisoned, perhaps hanged; but he had incurred a violent suspicion, and received notice to deliver up his farm on the next rent-day. Mary, though aware of her lover's situation, did not on that account hesitate to accept an offer of marriage which he made her, and an invitation to accompany him to settle in his native country, Bohemia. There was one impediment only; it was, Andrew Risbourgh. If there was one man whom Andrew disliked more than another, it was Zittaw; and there was no one who shared the bitter hatred of Zittaw to such a degree as Andrew Risbourgh. The honest man well knew of the attachment subsisting between Mary and Frederick, and had often, warmly and passionately, cautioned her against him. Mary loved her father tenderly, but her duty was languid when engaged against her affections; she doated on Zittaw to distraction; confided every thing to him; believed him to be as innocent as herself; and resolved to comply with his wishes, however extravagant. Banishment from her native province, the desertion of a father whom she dearly loved, poverty and distress, were all evils too light to weigh in the same scale with affection for her lover.

After an interview one summer's evening in a paddock behind the Golden Fleece, Mary returned to her home silent, pensive, and disturbed. The house was full of guests, but Mary had lost her usual vivacity and officiousness; the bells rung,-the waiter was called, -the guests wondered,-Andrew was astonished,-but nothing could dispel the care and deep reflection which seemed seated on her countenance. Andrew inquired the cause; Mary gave no answer.

When the house was cleared of visitors at the customary hour of night, (for in Saxony all houses of entertainment must be closed at a fixed time), Mary retired to her chamber, where, instead of undressing, she began to adorn herself with more than usual gaiety. She took out a box, in which she had preserved with great care all the remaining trinkets and jewels which the lady of rank, to whom we have alluded, had left her, and which were very valuable she put on her necklace, ear-rings, and bracelets, and disposed of various pins, brooches, and smaller articles, within the thick ringlets of her hair; and then dressing herself in virgin white, she sallied out of the Golden Fleece before day light, and long ere any person in the village was stirring. She bid adieu to her home with a melancholy serenity; shed tears as she looked back upon the village, buried in sleep and tranquillity, but resolved to show her lover the strength of her affection, by the fortitude with which she resigned every thing for his sake.