Weekly American. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1858-1858, 1858-01-09

| though her fingers trembled and tears fell upon
| the gay garlands. Benladdi Joined her, and,
seeing her agitation, babe her leave the flowers
| Leading her to a seat he threw himself on the
| turf at her feet, and reclined sometime in 81
lence, watching, with tender anxiety, her vary
ing color, and humid eyes &
"Zema," said he in tone of gentle re-
proach, 81 hope you do not wish to recall the
! promise you have made me-"
| "Oh no; ! am restless and uneasy, though
know not why. long, yet dread, to open
the packet, for ii seems as If my destiny must
| be strange and awful, wbenl reflect on all that
| my mother suffered, and on all she said"
| Tears fell fast on the pale cheek Of the anxi-
| himself beside her, imploYed her not to weep
"What can you fear, zeluma? tomorrow will.
be the happiest, the proudest day of my life,
! if | can but call thee mine Danish sorrow
! from your breast, and tell me all you remem-
| Der of your early life. once asked your
mother Of your father and his race but her ex-
| treme agitation alarmed me. On recovering
| her composure, she exclaimed, "Ask me not of
| my people, ask me not from whence / came
| swear, by the God who made me- that | am
innocent, miserable as | am and ever shall be
on EARTH My sufferings will soon end, and
with this loved one our race is extinct" She
then pressed you to her bosom, in uncontrolla-
BILE agony. How one so lovely, so bameless
and holy, could be so miserable, never could
divine. Even your caresses, innocent and en-
gagng as you were, never brought smile to
her countenance. And when you grew older
and hovered around her like guardian angel,
she would turn from you and weep" 49,
| never" said Leluma, :" saw smile on my
mothers face; "though have often, very Of
ten, seen her pale cheek wet with tears. OF
my home, " she continued, 81 have no recol-
lecions. My mother was, | have reason to
| suppose, carried away captive before | was
born; but she never allowed me to speak of
the past-and though was her ALL and she
evidently doated on me, there were moments
when | thought the sight of me was loathsome
and revolving to her. The two last years of her
| life she was more composed and happy for she
devoted herself to the service of God, and gen.
orally appeared calm, except when something
| agitated her, and brought on those dreadful
| paroxysms of agony. The last she had was in
! the temple | think she must have seen a
I spirit, for she gaZed on the door, where a
loathsomeleper had presented himself for puri-
|; fcation, until her eyes seemed bursting their
sockets; her face was livid, her hands were
pressed upon her bosom, she screamed for me
to fly. "'Tis not time yet, my loved one-not
7; yet-hy-hy-touch not" She could not fin.
ish the sentence, for her tongue Glove to her
stiffened mouth, and she fell into strong con
! vulsions. They carried her home, but she
1 never rose from her bed again; and while she
was dying, | made solemn VOW, neither to
love or to marry, until | had read what the
packet contained, which was to open the day
| was eighteen. A few hours after received
| it. she expired. That | endeavored to keep
that vow most faithfully you, Benladdi, will,
think, acknowledge. If | have not kept it as
strictly as ought" continued the maiden,
blushing and hcsitating, while she bent over
the flowers that surroundedher and murmured
almost to herself, "my sin has been involun-
tary."
Benladdi caug; her to his bosom" Have
no fear, Zeluma tn uart as innocent and lovely
as even thy mother could desire"
The maiden freed herself from his embrace,
and rising said, "It is time for the evening
banquet. To morrow, at the same hour, will
meet you here. Till then, farewell"
" She went slowly up the avenue, and Benlad.
di looked on her with admiration, as she stood
on the step of the portico and waved her hand
Her face was pale, but the setting sun lent its
red glow to her check, and showed the tears
like brilliants, trembling on her raven lashes
while the smile, that played round her mouth
seemed chased away by some thought she
could not control Benladdi stood lost in re.
! Election, until summoned to the banquet.
The next day way bright and lovely. Splen,
| did preparations were made for the approach.
ing festival and Benladdi's heart exulted in the
hope that it would be closed by his bridal
long before sunset the happy youth was pacing
his beautiful garden. He watched the setting
sun, heard the evening sacrifice announced, but
Zeluma came not Impatient and weary, he
called aloud and repeatedly for the Jewish
maiden. Another answered his call "Tell lie.
luna, said he, F" that Benladdi waits for her in
the garden" The messenger returned with the
intelligence that the maiden had gone to far
! country to fulfil a vow, and had left this writing
| for her master. Benladdi tore it open with
anxious curiosity and read
"That have broken my vow and loved you
with an ardor Of which, until this agonizing
moment, | was totally unconscious, l v i'll ac-
! knowledge, for | promised on this day you
should know my heart-and may God forgive
me for sighting the dying wishes ofmy mother
| But, noblest and kndest of men, farewell, for
everl Between us there is an impossible gulf;
we meet no more until we rest on Abraham's
| bosom. ZELUMA"
The agony and grief of Bcnladdi cannot be
bOlu' NhObIhS PhSSSut duu IOuiu iillIl sui
wretched and solitary, for he avoided all society
and as he paced his neglected garden, where
the flowers now grew in tangled mazes, and
dried leaves covered the paths, he would mur-
mur, had she died in my arms, / could have
said, at is the Lord, let him do what seemeth
him good but thus to leave me, and go per-
haps to danger and TO death, to fulfil the vow
extorted, fear, by maniac Ieluma, youha
| broken my heart and your own"
The unhappy youth searched Jerusalem and
its envrons in vain; aud after year Of useless
wandering, returned to his home sick and sor-
| rowful. In a few months he gave his princcly
income for the sacrifices and the services of the
Temple, and taking the advice Of the physician
who attended him, travelled towards the sea.
| Its pure breeze seemed to have invigorated him,
and he joumeyed on to Demascus,. As he ira.
vcrscd the gay and busy streets, his heart felt
| Ike lead in his bosom. The populous city,
with its eager and thoughtlcss throngs passing
! by in utter runconscousncss, brings to the DESC
late wanderer keener sense Of loneliness than
! the silent forest or the barren strand.
Soon weary of the noise and din, he took up
his abode in a retired spot on the banks OF
h. H. IA, h,,,l,