Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1846-12-10
THE wind, comrndc,' was the answer
They knew not TINT the greater villain had es
capped, for the tool lay dead before them.


cellcncy has heard my story
Il have; yet would have you remain, Be-.
think YOURSELF am your friend; your way il o..
pen here. But, il you mast, return TO YOUR
country. But Let this, and he took from his fin
ger n costly gem, let this ring einnd You of Boil
iysr.'
Henry sank upon his knee, and grasped the
generals hand Farewell, said the President;
when next you visit South America, may be
private man. But will be your friend, and your
caunlry's.'
May heaven preserve your excellency,' p.
Heaven has done 90, thus far said Bolivar,
IRON the dagger and the cannon ball. hold the
sword of the Republic, under heaven, for her
good The foes of her liberty may hate and pros.
ecue me. The field Of battle shall attest the vas
Tor Of our soldiers und the triumph of our Liberty;
the same fortunate field shall see me throw down
the palm Of my command. Adeu. senior, return
| 10 your country, aud remember Bolivar.
Farewell TO the sunny Southern shores!--Fare.
well 10 the hard strife, 10 the glorious victory
Henry Fowler turned from the palace Of Bolivar
with sigh and n smile-a sigh for the friends he
should leave behind and for the fate of the gallant
! Nina; but the smile was the shadow of Hope, rs
she came from his boyhood' home His soul had
roved, aimiesj, amid the wild scenes of his past
years life, but he had now found an object.
Hometown the young wanderers heart leaped
al the thought, for the vision Of bright future came
with it. lie longed for the day when he should I: end
again his native shores, with tho proof Of his
wrongs and his innocence, The diving Richard's
gift was the key Of The orphans future.
'Shure, but YOU won't lave us, captain
u mast return, my dear O'CalIagan; have
fond friends in my own country, and my heart is
with them, utwiIl you not accompany me, my
brave friend, and
'Trorh and it's moselr thai has frinds, said the
warm hearted lrishman, MS he dashed tear from
his eye; but, God help them, they dwell in the
strangers land
And have you none in your own country, ma
jor;'
Not while the yoke of the Sassenach is upon
her. No, me young find, me breath is freedom,
nnd the curse of the stranger has poisoned The air
of The green Isle,'
Come, then, with me, major, 10 my own free
land, said Henry.
CHAPTER XXlv,
The Wuntercr WINS returned! saw him stand
BelUrc mn alter, with II blushng bWde-BYRoN
lr was evening in the merry month Of May II
glad company were gathered in the mansion Of
Mr. Abbot, in Coonade Row. 1t was the bridal
night Of William. And who did he wed? Who, |
but the lovely orphan who had saved his life, was
The bride Of the merchants son. The heart of
Fanny was joyous, yet there was sadness min |
gIcd with its joyousness Her smile was sweet,
yet there was melancholy in it, for she thought of
her absent brother
Lucia, TOO, though, of him. But in that thought
was there nought but the thrill Of friendship for an
absent one? All, ask the youthful and glowing
heart Of the gentle maiden if she did not even 10
herself confess ii stronger, deeper, warmer feeling
IA feeling to which their association in the morn
ing Of their days had given birth, but which had
been nursed to an ardent intensity because lis OBJ
jet had not been near 10 share it first breath
ing of love.
The guests were gay--,he dance went round
The wine, for they drank wine then, was poured,
in sparkling lIbaons, TO the health Of the happy
pair.
'Onc thing alone is war,lng, said Mr. Abbot;
'were your brother here, my sweet gil, our JOY
were all complete
The door opened, and the servant ushercd in
guest. All turned rs a tall and commanding fig.
urc entered the apartment, and advanced towards
the BRIDE lie WAS muiiled in Il mantle, that hid
his face, but he noticed not the surprise Of the
He took the hand to the bride.
'WIM! means this sir? asked William, adyanc.
Fanny gazed astonished at form arrayed in the
rich uniform Of the Bolivian Republic The next,
she was in the aims Of her long lost brother.
Henry strained her 10 his heart, and turned TO
meet The bashru greeting of the wondering Lucia,
She was no longer the playmate 1.-The laughing girl,
but gentle and loving woman.
God be thankedn said Mr. Abbot; my wrong,
ed boy IS returned
Welcome, Harry, my old friend, and brother
Henry gave into the hands Of Mr. Abbot small
packet. 1t WIS that given him by the diving
Richard it was that given 10 the wrctchcd mur.
lerer by his dying mother,
The merchant opened it, and his face grew pale,
md his hands trcnblcd.
My sisters letters cried he.
'And we arc thy sisters children, sand Henry, {
The children Of Mary Abbot ,,
The tears gushct from the good merchants .
eyes.
'rhen are you my children, bless ye, bless We. 7
80 we arc cousins said Lucia, throwing her \
elf in the arms Of the happy Fanny, I
what long time it would take 10 tell the Joy =,
the reunited 10 tell how Mr. Ahbot's sis
'r Mary had eoped with pool man, and for \
we had lived and died in obscurily-how she had
omn,illed 10 Mrs Martin the history of her life
ow Richard had concealed it from Henry; and
ow his remorso had at last restored it to the or
han Stands. And how long it would take TO de- :,
;rbe the love Of William and Fanny, TOO. So,
&c will leave ii to those who love, 10 fancy it. C
Thus FAR in the life. path of youth, have we
avelIed. Shall wc follow No! for youth is the e
'esh noweret of the morning, and the high sun OF r
,rune, as well as the storm-wlnd Of adversely,
lust wlher it. We have followed the good and v
he bad, and we have traced their fate. The T
,ng lost has come once more 10 his chil1hood's
ONE There let him rest, The guilty one sleeps :
n n foreign land, in murderer grave May he c
est also, for the grave we know not.
But when has the old man Time done with the v
Tiers The erring but loving Mary we have lost
ght Of The repenlant Fred we left in II prison.
he coqucite Kate, and the wild Ned Rilion-we a
lus trace them, for they, too, were the persons r
f the drama.
There was a beautiful liltli cottage, in lovely Il
iIlagc in Massachusetts,; and the vines clambered
yer the door, and flowers blooned in The garden
efore it. Fields with the shining tops of grain e
i,tering in the summer sunset, were around it, u
nd at the open door, sat farmer with young
ported before them.
and have you not heard Of Henry Fowler's
arringe with The beautiful daughter of MIR Abb
d.
'Yos, Frederick, Mrs Ri(ion told me in her lei
r, and of the dreadful fate Of Richorh Martin
'Yqs, Mary and such might have been my fate,
It for vou,' and the husband looked fondly GU ~
young wife. But when is Riflon coming 10 :,
sill us?' -
I.t