Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1856-10-04

under the arms Of the former, and attacbin
one end to ring in the woodwork, passed tn
| cord several time around the body of tn
count, and at length secured him so effectu al
| ly to the raft that he foated without tn
least necessity for exertion. The priest the
regained his seat in the centre, and for som
minutes they were silent. The count was tn
| frat TO speak.
Il did not see you, father, among US in tn
unfortunate Dronthiem," he said.
81 remained below at prayer, my son, unit
tarrylng became presumption. L then hurlet
this raft upon the billows, and departed upOl
my mission"
Again you speak mysteriously, my father
Might one know what the nilsson may b,
which Keeps man on q raft. in the middle O
the mighty ocean, as calm as if he were a
vespers in his own church"
The priest smiled You forget, my SOD
that virtue is always tranquil in the hour Of
tIlal; and you forget, too, very important
difference in our situations"
" By no MEANS" said the count CT am
aware that am chilling in the water, while
you arc apparently at ease In cloak against
which L see the water strike in vain. l would
suggest to you that the virtue you speak of
could give nobler proof of its efficacy, were
W to change places for an hour %
Nay, my son, that idea ia selfish and
unworthy impose n penance on you for
having entertained it, and enjoin you TO walk
an hour, fasting upon the ensuing morning. I"
pray that / may do So" said DsBurig-
ny and entreat you to double the ponance,
It thereby you can double the chance of nv
performing it -
Jest not, my SON but remember that you
are still In situation of great danger: n
wave may dash your head against the raft, or
may snap the cord which holds you to it, and
In either case your own is desperate. 1t would
rather become you to make q confession, and
receive absolution as you may"
have no objection, father, the less that
have nothing else to do; but give you fair
warning that you will have to wait for your
dues till we get to land -
Hard hearted, careless scoffer, what If
that should not be so certain ?"
Then 80 much the better for the confess sor,
iather said the count, whose natural auda.
city did not desert him even in that hour
And how much for the penitent son ?"
asked the priest sternly But proceed and
that your wretched soul may com. the sooner
to peace, L will save you the narration cf q
life OF crime, by apprising you that know
you"
By your mode of describing my history,
think you do" said the other Il need not
tell you that am the Count Guillaume dc
BuFigny, faithful subject of his Most Chris
tian Majesty -"
"a faithiess husband to broken he earted
wifc-a traitorous friend to a trusting asso-
cIate-and treacherous envoy to a betrayed
people You need not. 1 know the libertin
ism which ended in murder committed, if
rot by your own hand, by your orders, and
the object with which you have fed the scene
OF your guilt L know that the Count de Blu
rlgny, having consummate career of prof
liSacy by dastardly crime, which has ban
iShed HIM from France, has sought to purchase
pardon for the ruin Of a family, by intriguing
Tor the run and downfall of a nation"
"Ha 30 exclaimed the count, "you ara
aware CT my errand to Norway?'
"Ay," said the priest, "the sword Of Swe-
den, whose blow already hurtIes in the ar, is
less terrible to the Norwegians, than is the
poison of France which you were sent to mix
this time, however, the cup shall be dashed
from your hand. You laugh"
do, said the count, though Heaven
knows, this is 10 place for mirth. You, who
have such unexceptionable information upon
these matters, are doubtless aware that the
cup you speak of is mixed"
And In a woman's hand that il NAV he
presented. The Count de Burigny thinks he
can safely return to his master, while his
beautiful daughter remains to enforce, by
blandisf ment and smile, the dark lesson be
has tried to teach. How, if she too. has left
Norway"
A shudder ran through tho counts frame,
and all tho recklessness Of tone had ief, his
voice, as he replied
"Eugenia-tell me, father, in pity-what
know you of Eugenia? left her at Bergen.
in safe watching and charge, though her work
was somewhat bold Nay, speak-whatever
else am, am her father-you do not know
you cannot have heard aught Of her.
Nay" said the priest, +" '' merely asked
what Count Burignys next intrigue would be,
an ha hao hat nhI l.
disposition had been revoltcd By the task he
had given it, and that daughter had silently
left Bergen, and, following the footsteps Of
her father, had secretly embarked in
"NOt in the Drontheim-not in the accursed
Drontheim, father" screamed, rather than
exclaimed the count.
The priest made no reply, but pointed to the
water A sudden and wondrous change had
taken place upon its surface. In lieu OF the
foaming and dashing billows, the sea had be-
come as calm as a mountain lake. The roar
of the waves was hushed, but in its stead had
arisen lew, dronipg, and distant sound,
which brought with il fear the mind owned,
but could not explain. The raft had hitherto
been carried swiftly along. but its speed was
now increased tenfold. The CONSERVATION of
the count became evident but to all his ex
clamations the priest gave no answer That
strange droniDg sound grew gradually louder,
but the ear struggled in vain to discover how
it was compc sed. Still, the raft hurried on
with lightning speed. Darkness was all around
it, save the bright red gieam of the priests
lamp.
Suddenly the thought Of his daughter Ie-
crossed the counts brain. he gasI ed-for
the swiftness of their course now rendered
speaking difficult
Father implOre you, what know yYu Of
Eugenia ?"
Once more the priest pointed silently to the
water, and as the counts eye followed the
motion, he beheld form whirling by his side
in the current, the intense ferceness Of which
rendered the surface smooth as glass. There
was the corpse of pale and beautiful girl,
lovely even in death. Long and golden locks
clustered around her neck and shoulders, but
the locks we're wet and tangled, and the ala
baster skin was becoming blue with exposure
to the water The eyes were closed-it was
well they were so. That form was following
the raft; but the increasing velocity of the
latter left the corpse behind in moment
that moment had suficed to her father TO
recognise his daughter. He uttered no word,
but gazed steadily at the priest
The terrible and indescribable sound had
now increased to a roar, which would have
rendered the voice inaudible at the shortest