The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1855-07-04

over him in that wild fever, that / could
die content, nay, that l could live and see
his face no more, if but once I heard him
say that he loved me?"'
"And thou hadst that wish"
Eyes! dear mother, you foretold that I
should live to hear those precious words,
and 1 did,"
No great wisdom was needed for that
propecy, child, )" rejoined the other, with a
fondness of tone that came strangely from
her thin, withered lips. Given now, 1
marvel as I see thee, that he could ever
gaze enough on those eyes of thine"
Hush! mother, hush!' said Lucilla, i'm
patiently snatching away a silken lock
which the old woman was smoothing over
her fingers; "you said you had somewhat
to tell me; conceal it not, if it concern
him or his.'
"Thine own fears have sufficiently fore
warned thee, my child" The girl hid her
face in her loosened hair. "He will mar
Iry!' she whispered at last, as if afraid to
give voice to the words. "But mother,
may he not love me still? Oh! the white
woman's eyes may be blue as our summer
heavens but will she love him as have
done? will her pale cheek burn as mine,
at the sound of his footstep? will she toll
for him through the heat of noon, and
watch through the silence of night?" Luz
cille raised not her head, and her compan-
ion, in compassion as it seemed, broke the
pause.
My child, he, may love thee yet"
/ "Oh! thanks, mother, thanks, your words
are ever true-now will cast off the self
ishness of this sorrow, and, if only he will
sometimes say that he loves me still, be
happy as of DID," She sprang lightly to
her feet, and began to wind her scattered
hair around her beautiful head
Lucille, what of thy child? he is wont
so to fill thy talk, and to-day thou hast
told me nothing of him.
on the young girls cheek, as she answered,
" he is well, mother, and fairer than ever;
you say that my skin bears scarcely trace
of the swarthy hue of our people, but his
oh! it is purer than moonlight, our
darkness has all fed into his eyes! l
would that they had been blue, but he has
at least his fathers rosy mouth, and clus-
tering golden hair Did tell you, moth
er, that when last Gabriel saw him, he
wept?"
| "Thou didst not, child. I am glad for
| thy sake that the babe is so fair, perchance
even yet he may save thee, or even if Ga
briel wed this Madelaine de Beaucour who
is doomed by some fate or other to cross
thy path in life, even her heart may be
touched by the beauty of this. child, and
knowing the wrongs of our race, she may
stoop to save him from poverty and labor,
and set him amongst his fathers people.
Thou wouldst be happy mother then,
Lucille.' II know not that 1 could take
aught from her hand" answered the girl,
proudly, looking unconsciously so majes-
tic in the queenliness of her beauty, that
her companion wondered for the hundredth
time how Gabriel Delacroix, even with his
pride of descent and worldly ambition,
could resist its influence
A moments thought, however, and she
sighed deeply. What ayailed the charm
of that mien, or the warmth of that heart?
Did a European ever wed with one of her
despised race? and was not Madelaine de
Beaucour, whose name rumor had united
with that of Gabriel, daughter of the
wealthiest family of all their wealthy op.
pressors?
Lucille at that moment was saddened
by no such sorrowful reflections, her elas-
lie nature had already thrown off for the
time the burden of her grief. OF her pov.
erty she thought little; fower-maker by
trade, she could always earn suficiency by
the exercise of her graceful art, either
amongst the luxurious ladies of the island
or by exporting her handiwork to Paris
To her position, sanctioned, alas! by Gus.
tom amongst our race, there attached but
little idea of disgrace, and could she have
hoped to retain something of her lovers
affection, and to bring up her child in
greater ease and refinement than she had
known herself, she might yet have beer
happy. Mother" she said, after pause
it would relieve my heart to look upon
the beauty of this white woman, Made.
laine. know her fathers chateau we'll
will take the boy in my arms, and if she
is alone, will even speak to her, and heal
the voice that has charmed my Gabriel
She cannot see the child unmoved, for be
is fairer than the fairest babe ever Graded
beneath their rich roofs.''
do as thou wilt, my Lucille,n replied
the old crone, fondly, and" she added
with bitterness that seemed far better to
accord with her harsh features, "woe unto
her and hers, if she show. thee aught Of
the oyerweening pride of her people,"
! s...e CHAPTER II.
It was bright burning day, with scarce.
y breath of air stirring, even through
| the cool jalousies of the Chateau Beaucour.
The fair Madelaine lay languidly on a
sofa, the delicacy of her transparent skin,
enhanced by the soft white dronory and