The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1855-07-31 00:00:00

.EMENT TO THE LIVERPOOL STANDARD

all the treasures in the world, he would like to lay
them at Marguerite's feet. On entering the village,
the news of their adventure spread quickly ; and it was
easy to see, by the consequent excitement, how much
the young girl was beloved by her neighbours. Both
young and old rushed forth to meet her ; and Juan
was overwhelmed with thanks and praises ; nor was
the poor Caesar by ary means forgotten.
"Adieu, Marguerite," said Juan, when he had ac-
companied her to her cottage-door. " May I sometimes
come to see you ?"
" To whom should my door be open, if not to my
deliverer ?" said the young girl innocently, at the same
time extending ter hand to, Juan. He pressed it to
his lips, and hastened away.
When he reached home, he found Gertrude very
uneasy at his prolonged absence. " Oh, my child !"
she cried, " where have you been, and what are those-
stains of blood on your dress ?"
Juan smiled. " Don't be uneasy, mother ; this
blood is not mine, but that of an enemy I killed."
And he told her all that had occurred, not concealing
the feelings of admiration and love which he felt for
her whom le had rescued.

" Thank Ood, my child," said the old woman, "that
your choice- has fallen on so worthy an object. I have
often heard the beauty and virtuous industry of Mar-
guerite conimended. She is called by her neighbours
the PearFof Campan."
It never occurred to the affectionate grandmother
that the fair girl in question could possibly be insen-
sible to 4he attractions of her boy ; and, indeed, the
event pinved that she was not fir wrong. Marguerite
was of too innocent and frank a nature to play the
coquette with him who had risked his life for hers, and
the preliminaries for their marriage were speedily
arranged.
On the morning preceding that on which their banns
were zo be published, the sound of a drum was heard
in the; peaceful valley of Campan ; and the prefect of
the district proclaimed the. drawing of 'conscripts for
the army. Poor Juan ! his was amongst the first of
the. selected names, and at the moment the shock
nearly stunned him. However, he had been taught
not to shrink from his duty, and having calmly made
the needful preparations, he drew his betrothed aside,
and said : " Listen to me, Marguerite. You promised
to be mine ; I am going away for some years, perhaps
for ever ;it is right that you should be free--. 4 give
you back your vow."
" And I," said the girl, " will not take it back.
Whether our next meeting, Juan, will be here or in
that better world to which, I trust, we are both look-
ing, I will never marry any one but you."
The young man pressed her hand in silence. • "But
my mother !" he said at length, while two unwonted
tears rolled down his cheeks ; " she,is old, infirm, un-
able to work for her support "-

"Your mother, Juan," interrupted Marguerite, "is
she not henceforth mine ? So long ak God gives me
strength to work, our mother shall notwant a home."
And so, with mutual blessings and fold tears, they
parted.

Cwsar followed his master to the wars, and Gertrude,
on the day of Juan's departure, took up 4er abode in
Marguerite's cottage. The old woman managed the
domestic affairs, while the young one carriel her milk,
butter, eggs, and poultry to market. In theevenings,
as they both sat at their spinning-wheels, tieir con-
versation naturally turned on Juan " Whele is he
now ?—what is he doing while we are spearing of
him ?" Sometimes their anxiety was assuaged ‘)3r the
arrival of a letter, filled with hope and tenderness; but
at length one came which increased their sorrow\ It
bore the stamp of Algeria. Juan announced thal his
regiment had just landed in Africa, and was Im-
mediately to march on the town of Zaatcha, when a
number of insurgent Arabs had intrenched themselves.
Some sharp fighting was expected, as the rebels woe
known to be desperate. Under this afflicting intel
ligence, the two women found their only consolation
in religion—in committing their dear one to the care
of God. Every day, on her way to the town, Mar-
guerite was accustomed to pause for a few minutes at
the spot where she had first met her betrothed, and
where, during the happy days of their courtship, he
had raised a rustic seat ; she used to kneel beside that
simple memento, and pray, fervently, nor did she ever
arise and go on her wad without feeling strengthened
and encouraged.
Every evening, on her return, her first question to

Gertrude was : " Has Juan written ?" And the old

woman would silently shake her head with a despair-
ing gesture, which seemed to imply : " Juan will never
write to us again !"

One day, as Marguerite was returning from Brag-
neres, she was overtaken by a violent thunder-storm.
There was no place of refuge nearer than her own cot-
tage ; and with her garments dripping, and her eyes
nearly blinded by the driving rain, she hastened
towards it. What did she see ? A blazing lightning-
stricken pile, surrounded by a terrified crowd of
villagers.

" Mother !" cried Marguerite, darting onwards,
" where are you ?"
A cry of agony from within the burning cottage
was the reply.
" Mother, courage ! I'll save or die with you !" And
before the astonished spectators could detain her, she
rushed through the flames. A minute, which seemed
an age of agonising suspense, elapsed, and Marguerite
reappeared, dragging forth her pious burden, and
forming with her own body a rampart against the
flames. Scarcely had she allowed the old woman to
fall into some of the arms ready to receive her, when
the heroic girl sunk down herself inanimate.
" When she opened her eyes," continued the curate,
" she was in an apartment in my house, whither I had
caused her to be carried. Gertrude and I had watched
for three days and three nights, by her bed, awaiting
the moment of returning consciousness. Her first
sensation was that of torturing pain in her face. She
raised her hand to it, and felt that it was so enveloped
in bandages, as to leave only the mouth and eyes free.
A cry escaped her lips. • Oh, I remember the storm—
the flames ;I am disfigured for life—is it not so?'
Gertrude and I were silent. It was but too true :
the devouring element, leaving her body, protected by
her wet clothes untouched, had seized on her face.
The beauty of feature and delicacy of complexion, which
had procured for her her graceful soubriquet, were
totally destroyed.
Until the bandages were removed, which the
surgeon did not as yet judge it prudent to do, he could
not tell the extent of the disfigurement, but that it
would be very great was certain. Our silence, and the
tears which we could not repress, acquainted the poor
child with her misfortune. She raised her eyes to
heaven with a touching expression of resignation.
"It is Thy will, my God," she said, " but let not
Juan see me thus."

" Juan !" repeated Gertrude ;
embrace him."

I` we sh.all soon

" Is he coining ?"
"In ten days---see yourself." She handed a letter
to Marguerite, which the latter read with eagerness.
It was written by the hand of one of his comrades, and
informed them that Juan, who had received a severe
wound at the siege of Zaatcha, was now convalescent
in hospital ; had obtained, as a reward for his services,
a cross of merit, his discharge, and pension, and would
be with them in ten or twelve days at furthest.
Having finished reading the letter, Marguerite fell
into a profound reverie, from which neither Gertrude's
fond caresses nor my attempts at consolation could
arouse her. " Oh, sir," said she at last, "it is not,
indeed it is not for its own sake that I value beauty—
but—but how can Juan love me when he sees me in
this state ?" At *hat moment the surgeon entered,
and having felt his patient's pulse, he began silently
to remove the bandages. As soon as Marguerite felt
that her wounds were exposed, she asked for a mirror.
" Not yet, my child ; not to-day," said the doctor.
She tried to raise her hand to feel her face. " Hold
her arms down," cried the surgeon to the old woman
and myself. We did so, involuntarily turning away
our eyes from the sight of those swollen and mutilated
features, once so lovely.
Marguerite saw and- understood our movement.
" Is it not so, sir ?" she said to me calmly ; " will it
not be impossible for him to love me ?"
Nine days passed on ; the wounds were regularly
dressed, and were now nearly cicatrised. The tenth
day was that of Juan's expected return ; but no one
ventured to speak of it. Early in the morning, Mar-
uerite rose, and prepared to go out, saying that a walk
ih the fresh air would do her good. I offered to
atcompany her.
No, thank you, sir," she said ; "my good mother
aloe will come with me." And with one hand
slightly leaning on Gertrude's arm, while .the other
held a small package, she went out. They walked