New Orleans daily crescent. [volume] ([New Orleans, La.]) 1851-1866, 1853-05-19

to call it mine" The youth rubbed his hands |
gleefully 81 should re a happy dog then "
And then :" said Mr. Canute, smiling.
''Whyi then, I'd pull down the rickety old |
house up there, and build palace fit for |
prince; I'd keep nothing but the old wine I'd |
have lots Of prime fellows to stay with me and |
should sport the finest horses and dogs in the |
country" The speaker paused out Of breath |
"And then Z" said Mr. Canute quietly
Why, then, III huat, and shoot, and ride,
and drink, and smoke. and dance. and keep open
house, and enjoy life to the full-fea sting from
years end to years end-the feast Of reason and
the fow ofsoul, you know, in bid Amtermead :"
And then
Why, then, suppose that in time / should
grow old, like other people, and cease to care
for all these things, 20 much az | did when
strength and youth we're mine
'' And then :" said Mr. Canute more slowly
Why. then and the stranger hesitated-
then, suppose, like other people, in the course
Of nature, should have to leave all the pleas-
ures Of this life, and like other people d die"
g And then 3" said Mr. Canute, fixing his
eyes, glitlcring ike diamonds, on the young
mans face, which flushed up, a he exclaimed
with some irritation
g Oh, hang your and thens But the moon
is well up, | see, 50 I'm off Good ght, and
thank YOU" And without further parley he
started vi the walk over the hills and Mr.
Canute silently watched his guests retreating
figure, till in the deep shadows Of the surround
ing groves, lie was lose t. view In the moon
light, in the darkness, in the valley, and on the
hillside, these words haunted the wayfarer and
he kept repeating TO himself, - And then "
Thought took possession Of his mind that never
before had gained entrance there, or at least
they arranged themselves in a sequence which
gave them quite new significance His past
life presented itself to him Tor the first time as a
coherent cham Of events, exemrlitying cause and
effect an1 II his plans for the future did not at
that moment receive any daterminate change
lie siil kept repeating anxiously and inquiringly,
rs he wandered on IN the moonlight, the two
| strangely y-sUggestiye words, and then = Ii
proved a long and toil:ome nights iourney for
| that belatel traveller; for he rad left Mr.. Ca
mute cottage so hastily, that he had omitted
to ask Tor certain landmarks On the hills leading
to the place whittier he was bound In conse-
| quence, the stars faded in the sky, AMI the ROSY
morn broke through the eastern mists, ere the
weary man, from the summit Of high hill which
he had tortuously ascen led belelI atar Of, down
iu the valley, the shining river the bridge, and
the church tower Of the town where his friend,
in some anxiety, awaited his temperance
During all his after Life, that young man
never forgot the solitary night walk when he
lost his way beneath beautiful spanrled sum
mer sky the stars seemed TO form the letters
And then !" the soft night-br seemed to
| MAlsI1tT III LIS ear Anu tlleL
1t is true he had not gained the intelligence
lie sought, respecting the inmates of Ambermead
Hall; but he had laid bare his own folly for the
inspection Of Mr.. Canute; and in return
he had listened to no rcproof-no tiresome lee
ture vouchsafed from prOsy age to ardent youth,
but simply two words had penetrated his heart,
and set him thinking seriously Mystic little
words! "And then 2"
For nearly three years after Mr. Harwelrs
decease, the old Hall, contrary to general anti.
cipation, remained untenanted, save by domes
tics left in charge. Miss Clara had found shel
ter with her relative, Lady Ponsonhy, thouei
her memory was still fresh an warmly cher
ished among the humble friends in her beautiful
+ native village. Mr., Canute, if possible nor,
silent than ever, still remained the village ora
cle perhaps more cherished than Of yore, mas
much as he was the only memento remaining q
| the beloved Harwell--the old familiar faces no,
?, seem no more He would listen, and thea woul
talk, of lays gone by; he felt the loss even nor
!, | than others. for he InouFnei Il companion AN
{ friend in Mr.. Harwell, anu Clara had been t
the good Two Words as an adopted daughter
At length it was rumored that Mr.. Selbv. tn,
new proprietor, was soon expected to take pos
session of his property in due form; moreover
: that he vas on the point of marriage, and tha
his young bride would accompany him I'll re
ports fly quickly; and it had been circulated il
I former times that Mr.. Selby was wild and ex
: | tr0NaHait, careless OF others, SelhSn and prof
gate Indeed, Mr.. Canute had not contradicteC
/ such reports, so it was generally opined they
were tso true. and had legal foundation Witt
heavy hearts, the inhabitants Of Ambermea,
commenced their rural prepara tions for the re
ception of the Squire and his bride gree,
arches were erected and wreaths Of flower
: were hung on the spreading branches beneat
. which the travellers road lay. 1t was the seq
son Of roses and nightingales, when Ambermea
lvraC | in r1N1 and n ba1 tIa oh
roses bloomed so profusely, and never had tt
q chorus of the groves been more full and ell
), chanting, than on the summer evening when Il
@ old and young Of the hamlet, arrayed in the
: holiday attire, waited to greet the new comers
e Mr.. Canute stood at his cottage door; til
/ bridge just beyond. over which the route con
: Quoted to the hall through avenues of greenery
: was festooned with roses: and band of nader
$ in white lined the picturesque approach. Tn
It sun was setting, when a carriage drove quiekl
IS up. slackening its pace rs it crossed the brdg,
o and stopping at Mr.. Canutes humble gate. Tw
II Words himself, bareheaded, stepped forwards Q
|, seeing lady alight, who in another momen
V threw herself into his arms, exelaiming, "0u
first greeting must he from you, dear dear NJ
/ Canute! need not introduce Mr.. Selby-he
u known to you already.
e Speechless from astonishment and emotion
III the old man could only say, :. Miss Clarar-;
he gazed from one to another, recognizing
70 the gentleman the waytaring guest who had d
lie parted so abruptly on his walking expedite
70 over the moonlight hills, more than three yea
r previously Seizing the hand which Mr.. Canu
ID Silently extended, Mr., Selby said with deep fe,
err ing
al 1T is to your instrumentality that | owe /
d, present happiness
in . How SO = was Mr.. Cunute's reply, looki
he with pleased surprise into the open face whi
h. on former occasion, had won his confidence @
T." admiration.
b. 1iro r0rdS spoken in season wrough
90 change in me, which all preaching Of frie
les and guardians had failed to effect retur
MS Mr.. Selby, land without which Clara ne
would have blessed me with her hand. I'll
". years of probation have proved my sinceri
and Lady ronsonby Ga severe and scrutiniz
to judgc) pronounced my reformation complete
ou She permitted me TO address Clara. Those
little words, Ind then - enigmatical to
unnitiated, convey deep and mystical me
ng ing to my heart; and they are Of such sigl
er. can't import, that by inserting them wheney
a paint the future, l trust to become a wiser
my better man
m, Clara gazed proudly and confdingly on
oss husband; and the news of her arrival hav
i've spread through the village, a crowd collect
whose Joy and surprise found vent in tears
te- blessings, TO say nothing Of the numerous dSit