Burlington free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1827-1865, 1842-06-03
CiI.APT Err v.

CHAPTERv v.
And the humble hunter is a warrior!-
Strange, oh life, are thy vicissitudes strange
in ages aeonc! strange now-a- days! A turn
of the wheel, anCsa demagogue is senator J.
Perez has already joined his son. All is
life and hustle in the courtyard of the castle.
One hundred men-at-arms, glitlering in the
rays of an Italian sun, with casque and
spear, awaiting the Count Monaldi's beck.
And see, by the side of the old veteran, Ro-
land, the hunter of the Alps!
Was it gratitude or interest which procur-
ed his promotion Both.
The mailed train marched through the
archway. Ida saw them, and standing on
the marble steps, the lovely girl, between
smiles and tears, waved her adieu. She had
observed Roland--shc had marked his GAL
liant bcaring-she had even given him look
which was not unreturned-did her ewes
last gaze upon the form of her father or Ro-
land.
The course of the adventures can be brief
ly related. They joined the duke and he
was victorious. In the melee of battle Ro-
land was ever conspicuous, and more than
once did he save the life of his aged leader.
After the final combat, the count was so dis
abed by his wounds, that the retaiucrs were
compelled to transport him on litter. The
hunter, or rather hero, as we may now call
him, was ever by the side of his lord, whose
attachment seemed boundless.
The castle, al last, was reached, and the
chcflain reposed in his ancient halls. Yet,
notN outstanding the attentions of Ida, the
count was ever uneasy without the presence
of his favorite retainer. This dis position of
Monaldi of course threw Roland in the So
cicty of the daughter.
Oh, holy! thrice holy are the first outgush-
ings of loves unsealed fountain. Naught of
earth's sellishness mingles in its silvcry wa
ters--angels alone trouble their beautiful
depths. Ida remembered her station-the
heraldic honors of five hundred years called
loudly to her-and bravely did she struggle
that proud and lovely lady. Was it in vain
Softly fell the glory of an evening sun over
those majestic Notwithstanding like gor-
geous diadem on their regal fronts. Ida and
Roland sat by the couch of the sleeping war;
rior, now gazing on his palid brow, and then
looking out through the old gothic window
upon the splendid scene which stretched be-
yond.
Beautifully exclaimed the lady in a voice
as low and sweet as the murmuring of rill
in summer.
All things are beautiful to the beautiful
exclaimed Roland.
The lady siarted-crimson mounted up to
her snowy temples, and it would have been
difficult TO tell whether pleasures or anger
caused the lovely blush.
Ida f! are you offended? whispered the
hunter. think that my heart, not my lips,
spoke
There was that in Roland's tone and man
ner which told Ida that she was beloved.
'Onended!' exclaimed she, but checking
herself, she said - Roland mo more Of
this-we-wc-' and the beautiful girl could
not proceed for emotion.
Ida cried the hunter, taking her hand,
Ida ! ! love you-in the field YOUR image
was my star-you, you were my soul-spurn
me not-say only tina! you love me and am
conient-aye, if ii is your pleasure, l will
leave the CASTLE
She could not reply tears were the on
ly answer. Il know the difference in our
lot-yet may not the pure orb ofheaven love
and illumIne the lowly brook 2
Say no MORE replied Ida, | do do
love you, though it runs me- She fell into
his arms and he mingled kisses with her tears.
Oh, very beautiful was the love of those
two young beings. Ida, the high-born Ida
in the embrace of hunter of the Alps! The
ills winch rose up to their view-ills conse-
quent on their passion-only knitted them
more closely together.