The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1852-05-29
SATURDAY MORNING MAY 81 1862

us when we inscnsibly anticipate the
approach of Spring, with its warm
breezes, the voluptuous odour of violets,
and the thousand fold half audible over
lures of dream-operas, whose music is
lost in sleep.
HIS daily rides were often in the di-
recton ofPerck; and he seldom return
, ed thence without visiting the grounds
Of the Castle of The Three Towers.
One evening, having approached nearer
than usual to Its gate, he gave himself
up unreservedly to all the sad yet beau
titul recollections of the Past. Never
had he loved his Anne so we'll as now;
and never before had the strange pre-
sentiment ofwhich We avespoken press,
ed SO strongly or assumed so vivid a
form.
canine! my own love!' he sighed.
"Oh! if thv spirit again visits earth, come
to me, and be mine -
The rustling of the gravel, as if stirred
by light foots'ep,--the sound Of the
rose-hush, brushed by silken Dress
met his ear; and, turning, he beheld in
the moonlight form and features which
even in broad day he would have deem
ed those Of Anne. Yet Anne it was not;
for, on bcholding the stranger, she blush
ed deeply, :rembled, and, without a
word, turned abruptly away.
The suddenneSs of the apparition, and
and its evident reaiisy combined with
the previous feelings of the artist, had,
however, well-nigh overpowered him.
Long he fixed his eyes in TIE direction
in which she had vanished. as if gazing
into another world, and then, with a
long, sad sigh, turned away.
"Oh, Anne, my wile-love!' he unused;
a had wcll-nigh deemed thee mine own
again. But patience the dream is not
yet OUT
As he unused, he heard from afar a
sweet merry voice, trilling this verse Of
an old Flemish song:-
sob, naught can tell of your fair young wife
And naueht can sing Of thee:
! only know that she cameo my life!-
By night in dream to me-"
CHA! Hesperusn' quoth Tenicrs, alb.
ruptly refining up his horse; "singest
thoul /" And with clear voice, which
rung afar on the evening breeze, over
rose-hedges and garden walls, he replied
to the Unseen who had answered his
thought
,"And was it an idle tale you toll7
And was it in dreaming done?
Then turn TO the cup, while the wine is cold
And sing that song to nonc!'
Tie Castle of The Three Towers had
been purchased, and was inhabited by
The Seigneur Jean de Fresno, Counsellor
of the Parliament of Brabant. His
daughter Isabella, who shared with him
its splendid solitude, was beautiful,
spiritual creature, fresh and fair as one
of the rosc-buds in her fathers park
and remarkable, to those who in after
days formed the comparison, for her sin
gular and mysterious likeness to the de-
parted Anne Breughel. The favorable
impression which she had, from the re-
port of numerous friends, formed at al
earlier period for Teniers, was exalted
after her removal to his once home, into
the most enthusiastic and glowing admi
ration. From the favourite handmade
of Anne, who had passed into her ser
vice, she learned thousand traits OF tn,
noble and gentle character of the "lordly
artist'-traits which were confirmed b,
the memory of every neighbour, and at
tested more forcibly, we fear, to Isabel;
} by tie remarkable personal attractions
which his portrait, still hanging in the
Castle, presented.
Were there, perhaps, deeper and more
inexpllcable sympathles at work, which
were capable of bringing her soul more
in unison with the departed, and thu
living! We know not. But there wa
a strange theory current in those days
"A theory earnestly insisted on by th'
great Campanella, and which the reade
may find discussed in many works rela
, tive TO occult Isl gnatures," atIinities, ane
) anti pathies, that between those whe
strongly resembled each other there ex
listed mysterious harmony of though
: and feeling. And 1t was not strange
tlidt tlle outlllui anu lIIldSlHdliN lSd
bella, dwelling in the Castle of The
Three Towers, and reminded at every
step, by the portraits of its former mis-
tress, by her mirror, and by the word
and actions of her maid, who seemed
scarcel y aware that she served stranger
of her wonderful resemblance to Anne
should, in some strange wise, have livee
under the feeling that another life ano
another soul breathed by night and day
into her its inspiration.
But, by every portrait of Anne, ant
in the memory of all who had known
her, there was another torm,--the torn
) of noble cavalier, with curling lock!
and stately bearing, and where wa
he now! ale would still have beer
lord of this castle," said her father, "hat
he not been by far too noble. too hon