The St. Cloud journal. [volume] (St. Cloud, Minn.) 1866-1876, 1872-05-02

the yellow tretoil, bis arm around her
waist and hcrhead on his shoulder
they two standing, in dumb &c.
stssy, with only the ]arches wav.
iog their green plumes above |
taeir heads, aud the waters endless
restless roar, that ceases not day nor.
night, January nor June, making .
loud hubbub at their feet-aloog with
the river, the mountains, and God
She can almost feel his arm: she
turns her eyes to look up into bis, but
then the dream flies; there is no
Paul-none! -.
She starts up hastily, and hurries
on. The gorge narrows there is only
room for her and for tho river-the
painting 1ury of the stream. 80 river
you take my breath away. Tarry lit
tie; cannot keep up with you! ~ But
the river makes answer: Il cannot
tarry l have an errand unto the great
gray sea" On and en-, on aud on she
saunters, not. needing how far nor
whithel, until at length she comes to
~a.slight hand bridge Of planks, that
gives and v.brates beneath her. There
she stands, and leans over the slender
railing, gazing, with eyes that try in
vain to keep up with it, at the swirl
ing torrent The evening is both dark
enlng and tightening; darkeniug, for
the sun ls~ gone. farther and farther
away tightening, for the moon is COM
lng-yes,s come ALREADY she has
washed the hills faces with her, cool;
silver food now her pearl-white feet.
have reached--have liz ghtly troddeu ON
the water-the wonderful water !.
Can it be all the same-the same when
it lies in opal Sleep and when it
pluoges against and augrily antics its
drenched rocks? If one hid but 1one t
oue-somo dear person--to show 1t all
to! - =
After crossing the bridge the
path she has hitherto followed
takes a sharp turning round
the spur Of a hill, and is immedi-
lately lost to sight. AS she stands,
still leaning over the rickety hand
rail, aud watching the moon -colored
bubbles, she hears footstep coming
along this unseen patti. 1t is growing
late the moon is rising high; this
place is luconceivably lonely. Her
first impulse is to turn and run home.
ward, but her second contradicts it.
Why should she stir? Bah! it il
probably some ianocent rough peasant,
clumping home to bed in bis deep.
eaved chalet. lie will stare at her
cloak, and probably give her Ro-
mansch "good-uight" to which she
will bo puzzled to respond !; 50 she
stays. Nearer and nearer comes tie
footstep, aud her heart beats .riAe
quicker than its wont. Her eyes arc
fixed on the corner which will give to
view the owner Of this slow aud in
termistent tread. Here he comes, out
Of the ,ock.sha2ow into tho light
He is not peasant {! He is-surely,
he is an Englishman He is-Pauz!
o God in heaven ! it cannot be! Men
dress SO much alike-there is such a
deceptive resemblance between all men
of class at little distance. He comes
a step or two nearer, then stops and
looks upwarp. The moon shines down
full and white on his upturned
tace-tho honest, shrewd face, that
is oe;ther gentle nor beautiful. She
sees his cool calm eyes glitter in the
moonbeams. He is care|essly dressed
without any necktie. His strong throat
rises bare and muscular, and his hands
are buried deep in the pockets of the
old Dinan shooting-jacket. Do you
think that she faints or topples over into
the water, or screams or laughs hysteri.
cally, Or calls out loud !? Not she Sht
only stands still, with one slight hand
hard .graspiag the haud.rail, and with
a heart whose loud puIso tiops drown th'
voice ct the triumphant foamy stream
waiting for her heaven to come to her
Has Death let her slip BY him, having
seen her bitter pain ? Is she already i,
the. blessed land? Paul is so busy
,noon'gazipg that be is close to her
his foot is. upon the, plauk-before he
perceives her. Then he jumps almos
out Of his olothes-out of his Dinx1
NEUTRALITY-SUSPICIOUS. of his skin.
"LENORE !" -> ~
She could not have cried "Paul r. i,
answer if you had offered her all tn
kingdoms of the world as a bribe.' HI
stoops his tall Had till his eager face
, is close to hers; he stares hard into hel
eyes; he even stretches out his hant
, aud touches her red cloak to assure
himself that she Is real Yes, it is nc
, ghost'woman it is real Lenore, witt
face much paler, indeed, than thu
Lenore he remem5ers-a face grave
with the gravity Of intense emotion
touched with the trouble of overpower
ing wonder-that il looking back q
, him with wide and lovely eyes.
"Great Heaven! who would hav'
, thought Of seeing you here?'
! n the accants of intnosa snrorisa II