The Ashland union. [volume] (Ashland, Ashland County, Ohio) 1854-1868, 1860-08-29

-"Ihen you knew that was golng, return
ed the youth, and he took Irenels hand within
his own.
eyes, and it has made me sad and unhappy"
"And do you know why. l am going 7" ask
ed Luigi, in an earnest whisper.
ayes, my mother told me all, y returned the
innocent girl, never dreaming that she was
doing wrong to betray the secret.
"And why is it"
'Do you not know, Luigi"
81 think know. / think it is because
because"
eBecause what 2"
t.Because love you"
"Then you have thopgnr rightly" said the
girl, in sobbing tone. tt,s;. eruel-very
cruel to separate us thus, but think my fath-
er and mother mean to do right, You will so
tomorrow, so my father says. But you weep,
Luigi"
II cannot help it, Irene But you are
weeping, too. Well, well, we must all weep
when we are unhappy. | know that to NOR
row must go, but you will not entirely forget
me, Irene. You will not forget the poor boy
who has been made so happy in your society"
"Forget? o, never"
"Neverw whispered Luigi. "Will you
never forget me ?"
"No, never" repeated the gentle girl
"Ah, but your father will make you. 1
know what his thoughts and feelings are
know how he looks upon me. To-day, when 1
saw him in the gallery, I re; his whole
thought in his face. He means that you shall
forget me, Irene"
GLOW can he crush my memory? No, no,
Luigi, 1 shall not forget you. We shall be
older in time to come, and then we may meet
again. o, be worthy of poor Irene, and trust
the rest to God"
''Be worthy of thee ?" repeated the youth.
"When I am not, then let me die, for I should
not wish to live"
"Hush, here comes my father. He may
be searching for me-
"Then go to him. You will not see ne
again"
'Not tonight, but tomorrow"
''No, nor tomorrow. Perhaps not forsyears.s
God keep youp'
Luigi Marino pressed the fair girls hand to
his lips, and then, as he heard the countap-
preaching, he glided away into the garden.
That night, when all was still and quiet
about the palace, the peasant orphan arose
from his bed and dressed himself. He had de-
termined that he would not see the count again.
He knew that de Castro had been kind to him,
but yet he could not see him again. He was
afraid the count would say something about
Irene-that he might exact some promise
some pledge, that would forever cut of all
hope. This whole matter had come so sud
denly upon the boy that he had hardly time
to consider upon it, but the little reflection he
had given it, caused Kim to act as he had
He wished in his heart to take an affeetiouate
all his Kindness; but he could not make up his
mind to the task. So he wrote a letter, and
having folded it and superscrlbed IL for the
count, he placed it where it would be sure to
be found.
As soon as this was done, Luigi made up
small bundle of clothing, and then having Sc
cured all the money of which he was possessed,
amounting to some dozen sequins in gold, and
and few pieces in silver-he glided from his
room and noiselessly descended the stairs
He did not stop till he had gained the road,
| and then he turned to take a last look at the
| place which had been TO him so long home.
There were tears in his eyes when he turned
away for the last time, but his heart was strong.
| The world was all before him, and he laid out
plan for the future. It may have been a
misty, dreamy thing, the boys plan, but yet
there was enough of substance to it, to serve
him as guide. Before morning, the boy had
reached the fertile valley west of the Appe-
mines.
Six years rolled away, and six years of
| change had come Upon the face of earth s
humanity. In one of the dark, cold prisons
of Rome, sat John de Castro, count of Avella.
He had been convicted of rebellion against
the Holy See, and though he had stoutly as
serted his innocence, yet he had been cruelty
| imprisoned. He was now pale and wan, for
he sickened beneath the hoisome vapors of the
| prison house, and the death doom which hung
over him, damped his spirits, and crushed his
mental energies. Sometimes the gentle Irene
came to visit him, but she came but seldom,
and her visits were short, for the prison keeper
| dared not grant too much favor to his prison
| er. 7
Irene was stiIl beautiful, though melancholy
made her pensive and sad. There was little
bloom upon her cheeks, and the light of her
| eyes was somewhat dim. 1t was the calm,
holy resignation, the cleaning of her purity,
and the soft smile of the Christian that made
| her beautiful.
! One day she sat by her fathers side in the
cold dungeon. She did not weep, for she had
come to try to comfort her father, and she had
gained the mastery over the tears that dwelt
in her heart.
"Alas, my child" groaned the old man, 'it
is not the death fear, for death would be well
come. Your mother has faded awav from
earth, and I know she is now in heaven. IF
were to die, should not fear of being sepa
rated from her. But it is to leave you that
weighs heavy upon my mind.
"Let not that trouble you," said the faith
full girl. sit is hard to think of death-to
think of death in such shape as this-but j
you must think of it, let no thoughts of earth
weigh you down. Look up to God, and dwell
in hope" DI
90, my child" uttered the count, as he
placed his maIacled arms upon her shoulder
and drew her upon his bosom, .'I know how
pure is your soul, and I know how holy are
i your blessed consultations; but yet canno
4 think of death, without weeping to think O
leaving thee. Even this cold dungeon seems
palace when you are here. o, l hope Goo
will bless you for all your kindness to you
4 poor, suffering father"
The counts face grew dark with painful
thought as he ceased speaking, and his frame
J shuddered.
"You must not be moved So" family y-urge'
! Irene.
) 90, my child, you know not what it is tha
moves me. Alas, alas, this may be the last Q
, t. ~ dork raol