The examiner. [volume] (Louisville, Ky.) 1847-1849, 1849-10-20

so, Tor II was many moments before her
face resumed its wonted expression.
The wretch has mistaken the casket,"
she murmured at length. 81 grow childish,
or my nerves are not ss strong as usual,
tonight" she continued, raising a richly |
chased cup, filled with wine, to her lips
After few moments she rose, and walked
to the window, where she stood for some
time, listening to the low wailing Of the
wipd, as it swept through the tall branches
Of the poplars that lined the street. As
she turned again 10 her chair, there wss a
singular expression on her proud features,
as if the soul was struggling to transpierce
the indurations Of pride and ambition.
al had sworn in my heart never to look
upon that face again; but why should !
shnnkl Has not God himself cursed the
disobedient child? He chose bis own path;
his blood be upon his own head" she
murmured. as she drew from the casket a
miniature, representing young and noble
looking man. In the face was blended the
best features of the old dame and her nus
band, but the expression was far more no
BILE and dignifed-calm, thoughtful, and
determined.
There are moments in the experience OF
every soul, in which the whole past seems
to be presented a. glance-when all the
events Of life, its loves and hates, hopes
and fears, Joys and sorrows, sins Of thought
and deed, daguerreotyped upon its Utmost
circle by the unerring light Of Conscience,
are passed, segment after segment, before
the startled seul, in colos too distinct to be
mistaken.
After long years OF ease and selfdeIu.
sion, this hour had come 10 dame Dudley,
and she could not escape its power. As
she gszed upon that picture, it seemed slow
ly TO vanish, or rather slide aside, and give
place to series which awoke in her strange
feelings Of terror and remorse. One face,
one figure, occupied the foreground to them
all-that Of her only sen.
There he lay in his cradle, and her hard,
withered bosom trembled at the memory of
that proud hour, when they told her that
she was the mother Of noble boy.
Another slide and she gazed upon him
at his studies, his dark, thoughtful eyes bent
Eagerly upon the pages Of his book. Then
the book was flung aside with smile OF
triumph, and she almost seemed to hear
again his clear, glad voice, echoing through
the rumbling passages of the old mansion,
as he played with his sister Isabel.
Then he stood before her in the flush oil
early manhood. a graduate Of England
Oldest university, and wearing the splendid
uniform OF an officer in the service oil
George Ill.
Long did the old dame contemplate this
scene; long did she gaze upon her noble
and accomplished child. and darker and
darker gathered the frown on her brow, as
she thought Of the failure of all her proud
hopes, and bitterer than ever were the cur
ses that her shrivelIed lips muttered against
; that impious and Iebellious spirit Of Liber.
ty that infatuated even the heir Of her house
and brought, as she deemed it, shame
and disgrace upon their name and lineage
Slowly she dropped the miniature upon
her lap, and covered her face with hel
hands. Fain would she have closed her
, eyes against the scenes which she felt mus
! follow. But the spell was upon her,
Again Memory drew the slide, and Con
} science with stern finger pointed to the fig
! ures Of young man and lovely maiden.--
The British uniform had given place to the
! Continental blue and buff, but the face was
still the same, save that the expression wa:
purified and intensified by the influence Of
the highest and the hottest sentiment that
can move the heart Of man-LOUe, in its
widest and best significance. As the young
officer drew the fair girl to him, and gazed
earnestly for a moment into her dewy eyes,
the shade Of anxiety that had dimmed her
features vanished, and both young faces
glowed with the bright hopes and still
brighter dreams Of the future.
twas beautiful picture, that-such a
one as ever fills the heart OF youth with
sweet prophecies, and that of age with
sweet regrets.
The dame cast one glance, and turned
angrily away. "Traitor and hull--a fiji.
ting match! Would to Heaven he had
died in his cradlep' she muttered, sternly.
Woman! J" whispered ''still, small
voice" "woman, she was pure as the pur-
est dream Of thy infancy"
The proud old woman started, shook and
trembled in her chair for a moment, then
implicitly followed the direction of that IN.
ering finger, as it pointed TO the remaining
scenes. Several seemed somewhat indis.
tinct in their details, but she recognised
them but too well. There were secret con.
claves, in which her own naughty form
was ever foremost--bribes offered and vile
ISLANDERS forged to effect the ruin OF that
guiltless girl. Interviews between the
mother and the son-intervieWs in which
she allowed her arbitrary and ambitious
temper TO become exasPerated to fury BY
his firm, dignifed. but always respectful
bearing; then scene Of unmitigated infa.
nay, in which that young girl was seized,
gagged, and consi gned TO the keeping OF a
British officer, who had long marked her
as the prey Of bis licentious passions Ali!
but too well did she know at whose sug.
gestion the devilish plot had been contrived.
lnstinctively she covered in her chair, and
placed her hands over her ears, while she
cast fearful glance at the hall door, for
she almost expected to see her boy enter,
and to hear again his indignant reproaches,
his Wild passionate entreates--"Moth.
erl mother! for Gods sake clear yourself,
or tell me what you have done with Mary
W-p Et. I.