The mountain sentinel. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1844-1853, 1849-11-15

alike at the thought of losing the woman
L adored, and of seeing her rrestored to life.
iavlshed on her the most tender cares,
yet almost wished that those cares might
prove unavailing. She recovered at length
her senses, but the moment her frenzied
eye met mine, 'Monster!' she exclaimed,
and was again insensble. l proftted by
her condition to remove her from the sight
of those who had gathered around, and to
place her on an humble straw couch
Here [ remained beside her till she opened
her eyes; mine shrunk from her glance
The first use she made of her speech was
to Interrupt the broken exclamations of
love, shame and remorse, which fell from
my lips, and beg 10 be left alone for time.
The niece of the curate Of the parish how
ever, who chanced to be by, remained be-
side her and the poor young victim of my
villainly. for she was but eighteen, seemed
glad of her attentions.
How shall | describe the horrible night
which | then passed? 1t was not on my
own account that l suffered or feared
She alone was on my thoughts. / dreaded
above all, for my love was still predomi-
nate, to see that heart alenatad whose
tenderness was necessary to my existence,
10 read coldness on that eye on whose look
my peace depended. But could it be 9TH
erwise? Had not basely, vilely darken-
ed all the prospects of her life, and over
whelmed her with intolerable shame and
anguish? That night was punishment
which would almost have wiped out any
lesser sin. Frequently it may be believed
sent to know how Aurora was. She
was calm, they told me: and indeed, to my
surprise she entered in the morning the
room where | was. She was pale, but,
collected. | fell before her on the ground
and spoke not. You have deceived me-
said she, 'it is on your future conduct that
my forgiveness must depend. Do not take
the advantage Of the power you have
usurped. The niece of the curate has
offered me an asylum. There | will re-
main till this matter can be thought of
calmly,
Alas! these were soothing but deceitful
words! Within a day or two after the
event, the interval of which | spent in
forming wild hopes for the future, | recei-
we'd at once two letters. The first was from
the engravers, the cause of my exultation
and my fall. They wrote to me that my
acquaintance had begot in them friendship
for me; that they had each originally sub
scribed certain sum for the execution of
their plot: and that they would supply me
with money and everything necessary for
entering into some business, and ensuring
The credible support of myself and Aurora.
The other letter was from Aurora-'Some
aemains of pity she said (which feel for
you, Notwithstanding your conduct. induce
mo TO inf hat !
is my intention to enter convent, which
will rid me OF your presence; but you will
do well to hold Yourself in readiness to
appear before every tribual in France, TIL
| have found one which will do me justice,
and break the chain in which you have
bound your victim.
This letter threw me into despair. |
hurried TO the eurate's but could hear moth
ing of Aurora's retreat, although | became
assured that the curate and his neice, ues-
pising my condition, had been urgent ad-
visers of the step Aurora had taken. |
now fastened to Lyons where the affair
had now created a great sensation. |
lived unknown, however, and obscure,
and saw only the engravers; who, notwith-
standing the base plot which they had
throug h me effected, were men of not un-
generous dispositions. AS they had driv-
en- me out of my former means of liveli-
hood, l considered myself at liberty to
accept sum which they offered me to
enter into trade with. They told me how
to dispose of it at once, and [ laid ii out in
way which speedily and without trouble
to me augmented it greatly. Meanwhile,
the father of Aurora had made every pre-
paration for annulling the marriage. This
could only be done by publicly detailing
the treachery which had been practised.
Never, perhaps, was a courthouse more
crowded than that of Lyons on the day on
which the case was heard. Aurora her.
self appeared and rivited the eyes of all
present, not to speak of my own. I'm
known and unseen, | shrunk into corner
like guilty thing. The counsel for Au-
rora stated the case, and plead the victim s
cause with as much eloquence as to draw
tears from many eyes. No counsel arose
for me, and Aurora, who merely sought a
divorce without desiring to inhict that pun
ishment she might easily have brought
down on the offenders, would have at once
gained the suit, had not one arisen for me.
1t was one of the engravers, the one who
had been refused, as mentioned by Auro-
ia. He made brief pleading for me, he
praised my character, he showed and con-