Prescott journal. [volume] (Prescott, Wis.) 1861-1871, 1866-07-14

had no-time- for speech, for the door
swing quickly open and the spy stood
before US. Straight eR- towards us he
came, his eyes. bright.with n half-in-
sane light, fixed on her, who, with ter
r6r-stricken face, covered in her chair.
t'SosIs have found YOU at last" he
Imnttered harsldy. 81 have sought for
you long aud YEARLY, but have found
4 You mt hstl" lbs 1i-ref s''' tf
L rose to my feet, slow through sur
prise. and stepped toward him.
'.What does this intrusion mean?" /
said. leave the room, man, this is no
place for such as your $50
He turned then, and looked Mt me for
the first time. .-.- -
go You love her, too; her beauty will
be the bane of your life, as it has been
of mine" he said, in a plying tone;
then turning to her who sat as if death
chilled, 50 motiOnless, "Come, Astrea,
my darlingl my boat lies below the gar
den wall, and beyond the Danube our
home waits for us, desOlate yet beauti-
| fulr' -..f
care You insane?" 1 cried, pushing
him harshly back. "What do you
mean? Go, before ! force you from the
| room - go"
''She is my wifel" he burst ont fierce
| IL; ''she loved me once; what right have
yOu to interfere between us?'
Trembling with hasty anger L raised
my arm, but cry from her Turned me
into stone.
''Is it true?" / asked her then; "what
is this man to yOn? Speak, that 1 may
punish his insolence ms it deserves.
She tottered TO her feet, budding
with both hands the mantle to her
throat, crimson, and purple, and yellow
tints, making more fearful the ghastli-
ness of her face, as she stood beneath
tho clustered lamps that swung from
the ceiling; but from her white lips
came only a sobbing sound.
cit is true" he answered for her,
| sullen1y; ''dare she deny it? What
| though she Thought me dead; you had
Do right to stand between us. Look at
this picture of her face, that L have
worn next my heart through long and
lonesome years.
He thrust it in my face, tiny paint
ing, circled With exquisite gems. 4
caught glimpse of a fair young face,
shaded by golden hair; her face |! L
caught him by the arm and drew him,
resisting, from the room, down the
| garden, out upon the beach where his
boat was moored. 1 questioned him,
but he answered only by passionate
| ordinations, or multering IN IN un-
known tongue; then / gave him gold
and sent hun away. Once he turned
and shook his hand threatningly, but
was soon lost TO view in the mist and
| darkness. Back and forth, through
the long night, / paced upon the beach,
| thinking sometimes / saw the white
speck of his returning sail, or heard
his wild laugh rising above the murmGrs
I )Of the sea. Not vet could 1 meet her;
how could bear to look upon her face
again, remembering that man s blast
ing words ? How bear to question her?
A tumult of anger, doubt and deep
despair surged through my heart. She
whom l had loved so tenderly; whom /
surely believer loved me alone, seemed
forever separated from me by two
fold gulf OF sin and misery. The first
ray of morning light fell on something
PlitteriUg at my feet; STOPPING, L saw "a
dagger with blade of rusted steel; it's
handle of some rare southern wood,
emitting a deep aroma, as if each fibre
in il had absorbed n whole season of
the heat and fragrance of tropical
forest; on n golden band that
tWined round it like a serpent, cypheT
set in ruDies-the same that marked
the cross suspended from a dainty chain
of gold she always wore around her
neck. Taking the dagger in my hand
turned toward the hoase, wondering
sadly what fate bound her to that man,
halI-barbaric and wholly strange-look-
ing. who took gold so greedily while
bearing about his person such costly
gems. E
Well, she was gonel No note.no no
tice whittier, yet surely gone. WAITED
!, patiently day and night, thinking she
might come back to me, but waited
vainly; she never came back again.
Then L set out in quest of her. i left
no spot in Sicily unsearched where j
thought it possible she could have found
+ hiding place, but found her NOT
, Back TO Munich j wandered, to the
, pleasant gardens where We had strolled
? together. / haunted lonesome streets
r and crowed churches, and waited in
e dim old galleries; but waited vainly.-
D L saw her face but once again in life
: Through the CRATES of a convent dool
n she looked at me; the blue eyes dull anC
, faded, the. sweet face worn and. thin
4 the bright hair hid by a nuns ghostly
= veil; only a moment she looked into M
u eyes withthat wistful, fearful gaze, theI
: iloated away. .-- e --s
Il Did j ever see him again? Once only
r 1t was In the Holy Week, In Rome.
$ stood at night watching strange pro
o cession pass through the streets. Their
J, were monks of every order; white robes
:, choristers, men and women and chill
? dren, draped in black, all bearing tor
d ches and chanting prayers; my arm wa
y grasped, and turning. from out of tn
"a white cowl of Franciscan friar, hi
e gloomy eyes flashed on me-. The ligh
If of the torch he carried famed across hi
IT haggard face as he whispered:
% ''Sbe Is deadl she whose beauty ha
been the bane of your life as it has G
m mine, is lost to us both forever -.
d Lost to you," answered, startin
Of back and shaking off his grasp; "yo
P who should never have dared to breat
= her name. Love nor marriage nit
n could make sacred the tie that boun
4 her to you.
ic "She never told you" he said, wit