The Tiffin tribune. [volume] (Tiffin, Ohio) 1848-1859, 1858-08-20
No46

oliicers, attracted from the next room hv
the debate-as the Refugee stood, with
one hand resting upon the litle pile Of
gold, bis ruddy face grew suddenly pale
rs shroud, his blue eyes dilated, until
they were euoirclod by line of wEite on.
amel' he remained there as Il frozen to
stone.
"Why, Captain, What is the matter?"
cried the Colonel; starting up in alarm:
'do you see a ghost, that YOU stand psz.
in there at the blank wa,l?"
The other officers also starting M 10
alarm, aieo asked the cause Of this sinqu.
lar demeanor, but still, for the space of
minute or more. the Refugee Captain
stood there, more like a dead man sudden.
| " recalled to life, than living being.
Tha! moment passed, ho sat down with
q cold saiver; made a strong ega.t as II
TO command his reason; then gave utter.
ance to a forced laugh.
ola, hal Sec how I've frightened
IyouP' he said-and then laughed that
cold, unnatural hollow laugh again.
Aud yet, a half an hour from that time,
he freely confessed the nature Of the hor.
rid picture which be had drawn upon that
blank, wainscoued wall, as irby some su
ipernaural hand.
But now, with the wine cur in his
hand, he turned from ono comrde 10 am
other tutoring somo forced Joss, or look.
ing toward the doorway crowded by OIL
GERS aud ladies, he gaily invited them %
share IN his remarkable argument; Which
were the most beautiful women in the
world?
AS he spoke, tho hour struck.
Twelve o'clock was there. and with 81
q footstep. and then bold Indian form
came urging through tho crowd OF ladies'.
thronging yonder doorway
Silently, his arms folded on his war
blanket, look Of calm stoicism on his
9dusky brown face the Indian advanced
along the room, and stood at the head of
the table. There was no lady with himl
Where is the fair girl? She who Is to
be the bride tomorrow? Perhaps the In.
dian has left her IN the nest room or In
one Of the other halls Of the old mansion,
or perhaps--bul the thought is foolish
oue-she has refused to obey her lover 5
request-refused to come TO himl
gn'.v.v --,.s sUmeruIng awful in the dee p
silence that reigned through the room, as
the solitary Indian stood there at the
head Of tho table, gazing silently in the
lovers face.
"WAere is sieY" at last gasped the Re
J. fugee, "She has not refused to come?
Tell me-has an accident beiallan her by
the way? know the forest is dark, and
the wild path moat diiiicult-tell me-
Where is the lady for whom l sent you
= into the Rebel lines2"
> For a moment, as the strange horror o
that lovers face was before him, the In
dian was silent. Then as his answe
seemed trembling on his lips, tho ladie
|, in youder doorway, the officers from IN,
ballroom, aud the party round the tabl
formed a group around tho two centra
; figures--the Indian, standing at the head
? OF the table, his arms folded IN his war.
blanket--that young officer halt rising
from his seat, his lips parted, his faoe
+ ashy, his clenohed hand resting on the
dark mahogany Of the table.
The Indian answered FIRST by an action
then by word.
First action; Slowly drafting his righ
hand from his war-blsnGet, he held il in
the light. The right hand clutched with
blood-stained fingers, a bleeding scalp,
and long glossy locks Of beautiful darl
hairl
Then tho word: "Young warrior sen
the red man for the scalp Of the pale faced
squaw! Here II isl"
Aes--the rude savage had mistaken hi,
messagel Instead Of bringing the bid,
to her lovers arms, ho had gone on hii
way, determined to bring the scalp Of th,
victim to the grasp Of her pale-laced enc
my.
Not even a gFoan disturbed the sileuo,
Of that dreadful moment Look there
The lover rises, presses that long hair
so black. so glossy SO beautiiul-to hi
heart, and then--.as though a huge weight
! falling on his brain, had crushed him, iol
! with one dead sound on the hard floor.
lie lay there-stiff, and pale. and col,
Ibis clenched right hand still clutchin.
the bloody scalp, and the long dark bal
r falling in glossy tresses over the floor
. This was the bridal evel
q Now, tell me, my friends, you VIII
a have hoard some silly and suorant pre-
fender. ptifully complain Of the destitu
r tion Of Legend. Poetry, Romance, whiel
!. characterizes our National History ---tel
n me, did you ever read tradition O. Eng
: land. or France. or Italy, OF Spain, or an,
i land under the Heavens, that might il
q point Of awful tragedy; compare with th
I. simple History Of David Jones and Jan
i M'Crea? For it is but scene from thi
narrative, with which you have all bee
Il familiar from childhood that | have Civ
N en- you.
o When the bridegroom, flung there o
# the floor, with the bloody scalp and Ion
: dark tresses in his hands, arose again /
IS the terrible consciousness Of fe-thoa
words tfembled from his lips in iain
n and basky whisper;
q "Do you remember how. haif an hou
i ago--I stood thess by The table-silan
aud pale, ans hogror-stricken--while yo
St all started up around me, asking me whs
horrd sight / sawl Then, oh then ! be
9, held a horrid scene--lhat home, yOnde