American Republican and Baltimore daily clipper. [volume] (Baltimore, Md.) 1844-1846, 1846-01-13

shall serve our mess for Wines for month TO
come! But if you do agree with meas with
out doubt you wll-then you are to replace
this gold with an hundred guneas Of your
own"
"Agreed 1t is wager!' chorussod the Co
lionel and the two other officers.
And in that moment-,while the doorway
was thronged by fair ladies and gay officers, at
tractcd from the next room by the debate-as
that young Refugee stood with one hand rest
ing upon the little pile of gold, his ruddy face
grew suddenly pale as q shroud, his blue eyes
dlIatcd unit! they were each cncirclod by hne
Of white enamel, he remained standing there,
as if frozen to stone.
"Why, Captain, what is the matter" cried
the Colonel, starting up in alarm, edo you sec
a ghost, that you stand gazing there, at the
blank wal?n
The other officers also started up in alarm,
also asked the cause Of this singular demeanoc,
but still for the space OF minute or more, the
Refugee Captain stood there, more like dead
man, suddenly recalled to life, than Il living be-
ing.
That moment past, he sat down with a cold
SILVER, made stfoug effort as if to command
his reason, and then gave utterance to forced
laugh
''Ela hal See how I've frightened you" he
said, and then laughed that cold, unnatural,
hollow laugh again.
And yet, half an hour from that time, he
frankly confessed thenature fthc horrid picture
which he had seen drawn upon that blank,
wainscoted wall, as if by some supernatural
hand.
But now, with the wine cup in his hand, he
turned from one comrade to another, uttering
some forced jest, or looking towards the door
way, crowded by officers and ladies, he gaily
invited them to share in this remarkable argu-
ment: Which were the most beautiful women
in the world?
As he spoke, the hour struck.
Twelve o'clock was there, and with it foot
step, and then a bold Indian form came urging
through the crowd of ladies thronging yonder
doorway.
Silently, his arms folded on his war-blanket,
look of calm stocism on his dusky brow, the
Indian advanced along the room, and stood at
the head of the table. There was no lady with
| him!
Where is the fair girl? She who is to be the
bride tomorrow! Perhaps the Indian has left
! her IN the next room, or in one Of the other
halls of the old mansion, or perhaps-but the
thought is a foolish one-she has refused to
obey her lovers request-refused to come to
meet him!
There was something awful in the deep ST.
ence that reigned through the room, as the So
litary Indian stood there, at the head Of the Ia
BILE, gazing silently in the lovers face.
"Where is Shc?" at last gasped the Refugee.
"She has not refused to come? Tell me-has
any accident befallen her by the way? know
the forest is dark, and the wild path most diff
cult-tell me where is the lady fol whom sent
you into the rebel lines?n
For moment, as the strange horror of that
lovers face was before him, the Indian was ST.
lent. Then, as his answer seemed trembling
on his lips, the ladies in yonder doorway, the
officers from the ballroom, and the party
round the table, formed a group around the
two central fgures--tho Indian standing at the
head of the table, his arms folded in his war
blanket-that young officer, half rising from
his seat, his lips parted, his face ashy, his
cenched hands resting on the dark mahogany
of the table.
The Indian answered first by an action, then
by word
First the action Slowly drawing his right
hand from his war blanket, he held it in tua
light. That right hand clUtoEad with blood
stained fingers a bleeding scalp, aud long and
glossy locks Of beautiful dark hahn
Then came the word: "Youag wafr'". sent
the rcd man for the scalp Of the pao-iaccd
squaw Here it is''
Yes, the rude savage had mistaken his mes
sage! Instead Of bringing Tue bride to her To-
yer's anns, he bad gone on his way, delcrmin-
ed to bring the scalp Of his victim to the grasp
Of her palaIaco enemy.
Not even a groan disturbed the deep silence
Of that dreadful moment. Look thcre The
lover rises, presses that long hairso black so
glossy, 50 beautlful-to his heart, and then, as
though huge weight, falling OH his brain, had
crushed him, fell with one dead sound on The
hard floor.
lie Law thore-stiff, and pale, and cold--hs
clonched right hand still blutching the bloody
scalp and the long dark hair falling in glossy
tresses over the floor
This was his bridal eve!
Now, tell me friends, yo who have heard
some silly and ignorant pretonder pitiiully
complain of the deslitution of legend, poetry,
romance, which characterzcs our national his
tory--toIi me, did you ever read tradition OF
England, or France, OF Italy, Or Spain, or any
lard under the heavens, that might, in point
Of awful tragedy, compare with the simple his
tory of David Jones and Jane M'Crea2 For
it is but scene from this narrative, with
which which you have all been familiar from
childhood, that have given you.
When that bridegroom, flung there on the
floor, with the bloody scalp aud long dark
tresscs in his hands, arose again TO the terrible
consciousness Of Ef-theso words trctnb!od
from his lips, in faint and husky whisper:
''Do you remember how, half an hour ago,
stood there by the table, silent. and pale, and
horror stricken, while you all started up round
me, asking what h0rId sight | saw? Then,
oh then, hoheld the horrid scene that home,
yonder by the Hudson river, mounting to hea-
ven in smoke and flames! The red forms Of
Indians going to and fro, amid flame aud smoke,
omahawk aud torch in hand! There, amid
dead bodies aud smoking ombcls behold her
lornl-my bride--tor WHOM | mad sent lhe