Staunton vindicator and general advertiser. (Staunton, Augusta County, Va.) 1858-1860, 1859-06-24

DIV until at last he told lmorene and her Ia
Their that he must bid them farewell, and
once more join in the noise and hustle Of the
times.
"Oh, shall we see you no more 2" asked
Imorene, with heaving breast and tremu-
lous voice that startled the soldier.
Il must 90 to my friends and my home
I am needed there" he answered.
perhaps you will sometime return this
way" suggested the cottager, ''and then
we may sit down once more together"
II trust.it may be 50, was the reply Of
the now thoughtful guest.
At that moment his eyes fell upon those
of Imcrene, and starting as though an ar
row had pierced his side, he said:
'Come, gentle one, let us walk once
more through these loving and long-to-be-
remembered scenes before | bid all fare
WE'LL"
A secret seemed toreveal itself to the sol
der as they now sat together beneath a
bank where oft they had eat before for
hours together. lie read now the heart of
the gentle one by his side, and placing an
arm about her waist, and looking into her
blushing face, he won from her the secret.
And then as ifhis whole feelings at once
changed. he told her that he was unworthy,
vastly unworthy Of her tender and virtuous
affection that his had been avid and reck-
less life, and his hands in battle had often
been lifted to spill his fellows blood; that
he had travelled much, aud had been har-
dened be contact with the world; and, in
fact, that he could never make so sweet and
gentle being happy.
She had no reply for his eloquence but a
single, pearly tear-drop 4@
The soldier, while at the cot, had said lit
tie of himself, as itregarded his former life,
while Imorene and her parents were too
considerate, humbleas they were, to seek
for that information which it was evident
the soldier did not desire to communicate
But now, as Imorene sat by his side and
realized that he was about to leave her. she
could not but ask:
"And where is your home, Senior Co
mez 2" for thus he had given his name to the
cottagnr. a
''In Valentia, moreno All, Imorene,
continued he, pressing her hand within his
own. Il could wish that my life had been
differently cast, that [ might dare to love
thee and to wed thee. But, alas! am
unfit to do either | am unworthy of thy
love; and yet, within this hour, | realize
how sweet has been the brief period have
dwelt with thee; and, alas that do love
thee unwittinglyp'
The following morning, which he left, he
gave the cottagefs the contents of his purse,
reserving mere trifie for his journey and
pressing small but costly ring upon Imo-
rene, as parting gift, he touched his lips
to. her forehead, and wendell his way on the
mountain road toward his distant home at
Valentia.
Six months had passed since the wound
ed soldier left the hospital cottagers, when
one Of those devasting tornadoes peculiar to
the climate swept over the spot, and left
not one vestige Of that peaceful habitation.
Cattle were destroyed, Vegetation blighted,
everything was wreck; and, alas! with
the rest, was lost, Imorsn's mother, herself
and father alone escaping What should
they do, wither go? Imorene suggested
Valentia. The father was half broken heart
ed by the loss of his companion and his all.
He cared not whittier they went; and Sc on
foot they turned their way toward the dis
tant city, which moreno believed held him
she loved.
She hardly expected to find him, or if she
did so, she knew not that he still loved her;
bnt then the thought that she was so near
him-the idea that she might possibly see
him, gave to her loving heart Indictment
enough to carry her thither, over mountain
and plain with willing though oftentimcs
weary feet.
At length they came in sight Of Valentia
with its Moorish gates, its many turrets,
palaces, and public buildings. But here
they were lost in the labyrinth of streets,
and the giddy mazes and turmoil of the city.
They had come without any definite pur-
pose, and were now entirely destitute Of
means. Want stared them in the face, un-
til finally by some good fortune the father
engaged his services to noble as a gard
ner, and SO arranged the contract that it af-
forded him good Accommodations for both
himself and lmoIene
Time passed on, and the fathers skill be-
gan to manifest itself to the lordly owners
eyes He was pleased, and visited his SER
wants cottage at the end Of the garden, where
Imorene and her father lived. The owner
Of these lands and gardens was astonished
when he found blooming within his palace
walls flower so beautiful as the peasant
girl. He was spell-bound dy her exquisite
sweetness of features, the delicacy Of her
bearing, and the sylph-like grace Of her
form. The father was surprised at the earn
estness Of Don Moranzo's questions concern
ing his child; and perhaps troubled thought
crossed his mind when his noble master turn
ed away from the cottage door and walked
back to the palace.
Don NIoranzo had bad name in Valen-
tia; he was dark and moody-spirited man
one whom few liked to cross, still fewer to
be intimate with. His principal claim to
the honor in which he was held in the dis
trict and court was owing to his immense
wealth, dishonesty enough obtained, no
doubt, but oft purchasing for him what he
could not otherwise have acquired When
we say that Don Moranzo was loved by
none, and feared by nearly all, we have told
his character.
The only friend the peasant Gomarde and
his daughter had made in Valentia, was
friar If the convent Of Santa C)oro Ha