The Shasta courier., 1867-06-01

"iOoi, Hedu ldiier inan lne rest. With a lrm
martial step and broad make of figure, diff
ferlng from the peculiar characteristic of the
tribe. But the lady did but look once, then
turned her careless eyes away.
The visits OF the gypsies to the tower were
too common to excite her surprise, or to ocea
slon any interest in her mind
The lady continued her previous oc,upa.
.,sn, amusing and queting her children ::
but, ere many minutes had elapsed. her old
seneschal entered the room, saying that one
of the gypsies prayed earnestly to speak
with her.
The lady hesitated it was not her won't to
see strangers in the absence of her lord.
But the seneschal spoke so of the earnest
manner of the gypsy-his gentle tongue and
humble entreaties for admittance-that she
consented that he should be ushered into her
presence.
lie came. The seneschal opened the door
for his entrance, then closed it behind him.
The lady and the gypsy, swing the presence
OF her infants, were alone he asccrtained
this ere he advanced close to her. and. dis
placing the cloak that shrouded the lower
part of his face, turned upon her the unfor-
gotten features of her first lover, Johnnie
Muir
1t was, indeed, her early love Oh, lost
so long-so long unheard of he had return
ed at last
No shrek burst from her lips-no cry
only one low murmur-the murmur of a
heart too full for utterance-gaye token of
all she felt.
1t was himselfl unchanged in all-un
changed In personal beauty, with the same
dark, passionate eyes, burning upon her
own-the same proud, melancholy counte-
nance-the lips, speaking even when silent
the earnest, honest xpression--heart and
soul breathing forth upon that face, un-
changed in mind and spirit, as his present
darlng-his present attempt, after long years
of absence-of deserton-of Wrong-too
plainly proved.
They did but gaze one moment-then
rushed into each others arms
Poor hearts-so rudely parted True
hearts-true through so much despair. cling
closely while ye may; beat-beat together
beat with your vain delight Ah would
that upon this moment ye might break 1t
was moment of delight-of Joy unspeak-
able; there was no alloyed feeling mingling
with that rapture. All but the bliss of
meeting was forgotten; forgotten was the
past anguish the unsurmountable gulf be-
tween them-the agony behind-the agony
beforc-the coming and gone-by Despair
Only the present moment then dwelt with
them-all else to them was nothing.
The lady raises her head, only to gaze up
into bis face silent from, emotion, and yet
too blest for tears. His lips move, but no
words issue thence; delight hath made him
dumb. The children, playing at their feet,
look with unconscious wonder on the strang-
er-half fearful, ignorant of wrong, yet
thinking of their father. The lady meets
their inquirng eyes-she partly withdraws
herself from the grasp of her lover.
" All, wherefore didst thou Gomez"
Long silence follows. Again, one long
embrace heart soul and spirit meeting at
the touch
Oh, a first love is bond hard to break
and, though she may seem weak and guilty
through all that is to come. yet think what
she has suhered-think what her faith hath
been-think of the mighty passion suppress
ed so long-think of the heart, so long held
silent-think of the long uncompanied
years, during which these souls have yearn-
ed for their predestined mates, that yearning
at last satisfied, the kindred spirits met
think of all this, of all love is, of all it en-
dures, inficts, teaches-think Of all this, and
judge her gently
hunting. He rides swiftly forward but
wearied dog, and weared horse, groom and
hind, and huntsman follow slowly behind.
The earl alights at his gate; his servants
meet him at the door, with downcast looks
they hold his bride; they lead his steed to
STALL
He is proud man, and seldoms holds
converse with interiors he asks no questions,
but passes through them all, and climbs the.
stately stairs.
Why is his babe crying in its cradle? lie
starts as he listens to its feeble wall Why
are his children subdued and silent, watch.
ing by that lonely cradle?
The earl strides up the room-his children
spring into his arms-his crying babe smiles
as he mods his tall plume above its rest
But where is his wife ?-where is their
mother?
He asks his children, and all they say is
g She is gone /" He turns for information
to the domestics they stammer forth the
truth, Lady Jane is gone with the gypsy
train, away with Johnnie Muir.
The earl was man of few words; he
made little answer, put his children from
him, and left the room. lie called his train
of squires around him-fresh steeds were
prOupHt wei, weary, cndSe- -Slalneu as luey
were, they mounted and rode in pursuit.
Not long, not far did they ride. Where
the ford crosses Doom, they came upon the
gypsies and their troop and there, indeed,
was Lady Jean, with her green kirtle above
her snow white robe, and a golden net hold
ing back her golden hair; the pearls were
gone-the shining clasps were gone-the
rings from her fingers were upon those of
the gypsy girls-the ring that welded her
to her proud earl was worn by Johnie
Muir.
Hand in hand with Johnnie Muir, and
heart to heart, the lady passed along.
She thinks of nothing but her love. Her
very children are for the time forgotten all
ties of habtual afection-all pride, all
honor, all womanly shame, all selfrespect.
the purity of her unblemished name, the
sanctity of the marriage vow-everything
has passed before the overwhelming torrent
OF this reawakened passion, so intense, SO
desolating! Desolating, indeed, it was,
bringing ruin and death alike to the inno-
cent and guilty; for the vengeance was
swift as terrible-and for those few rapturous
momenls came a retribution upon all con-
nected with the actions of that day, dreadful
ln its prompt avenging.
The Earl of Cassilis was attended by SO
strong band that resistance was out of the