One year rolled on, and how chequered by passing events!  Chapultepec had fallen, the city of Mexico was taken, and peace, thrice glorious peace, had waved her pinions over the land of war.  The volunteers were joyfully hastening to their homes, and, among the rest, I once more trod my native land, a freeman again in heart and soul.  A spell of sickness at first confined me several weeks, but at length I rose wearied and feeble from my bed, and my physicians recommended a change of air.  I traveled into Virginia, and one evening I entered the town of G——­h.  I inquired for the family of my friend, and was directed to a fine-looking building upon the principal street.  I advanced and rang the bell, and anxiously waited an answer.  At length the door opened, and an old grey-headed man stood before me, the lines of his face marked by care, and his whole appearance betokened one who had a deep grief at heart.

“Mr. ——­, I presume?” said I, bowing.

“The same, sir; won’t you walk in?” replied the old man, politely.

I entered the house, and was soon seated in the parlor, when the old man started to leave the room.

“I have something of importance for your private ear,” said I, hastily.

He turned towards me, and taking the Bible from my pocket, I held it up to view.  Quicker than thought, the aged father sprang forward, caught the book in his hand, and murmured, as the tears fell slowly over his aged cheeks: 

“My son, my son, you bring news of him.”

“I do, but it is very bad,” I answered, my voice trembling as I spoke, and I retold to him the scenes upon the battle-field.

When I had finished, the old man clasped his hands in agony, and, raising his eyes toward the ceiling, exclaimed, in deep and fervent tones, “God’s will be done!”

At this moment, a young lady of pale, care-worn countenance entered the parlor, and, rising, I said, “Miss Eveline ——­, I believe?”

“The same,” she calmly replied.

As her eyes glanced at the ring, which I silently presented, she stretched forth her hand, grasped it convulsively, then fell suddenly forward upon the carpet, the blood oozing rapidly from her mouth.  The terrible ordeal had broken a blood-vessel, and her spirit passed unchecked to another world.

A plain, marble slab, in the graveyard of the town of G——­h, upon which is engraved the lone word, “Eveline,” marks the last resting place of the betrothed of the Dying Volunteer.

ESCAPE FROM A MEXICAN QUICKSAND

By captain Mayne Reid.

A few days afterward, another adventure befell me; and I began to think I was destined to become a hero among the “mountain men.”

A small party of the traders—­myself among the number—­had pushed forward ahead of the caravan.  Our object was to arrive at Santa Fe a day or two before the wagons, in order to have every thing arranged with the governor for their entrance into the capital.  We took the route by the Cimmaron.