The morning star and Catholic messenger. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1868-1881, 1872-10-13

efactor to the poor. And then there are the
litamiG nsino'es, in which the mighty Charlie
him to be, took part; and then there are the
professions Of one, may regard rs my own pre-
decessor, of Cloudius Mamertus, Bishop of
and that are now universally practised by the
Church upon our r0gGtion days. But must
consult my brother bishops, and now" said the
bishop. as he unfolded the rolls of his tent and
passed into the oratory, "now for the first ex-
animation into the vision which the stranger
priest has disclosed to me-"
Chapter AI.-Zara.
In the midst of the hills that skirt on one
distant from the city itself, there lay the re-
mains of an old fertilization, placed in so bad
O position, so accessible upon every point save
one, where it overlooked q deep rasine, that it
was passed and repassed constantly by the con-
tending forces of Turks and Christians, and
neither ever stopped to make it restipg-place,
much less to occupy it as military position.
1t was to this fortif riff that the faintng
conveyed by Selim. He bore her within its
precincts, and in Q chamber that was rudely
fitted up, lie transferred her to the care of q
Turkish woman, now either near or past the
middle age of life, but on whose features, still
retaining traces of beauty, were marked the
impression of passions that had long been in
| ban, which made her dark olive skin look still
more dark; her perfectly formed person was
covered with o pelisse of skin, trimmed with
rich for, and descending below her knses, be,
| were fastened at the ANGLE by thin bracelets of
silver, as to display o small and delicate
| foot, encased in siiver-embroidered slippers
whilst the, waist was confined by a curiosly
ornamented girdle, in which was inserted
silver hilted dagger. The eyes of this woman
were large, black and dazzling, but their ex-
departed from the face, and cast its gloom
over a small mouth, which never opened but
to display two perfect rows of brilliantly
white teeth.
selim, without uttering o word, bore the
senseless Guuhilda into the apartment where
the woman was seated and placed his captive
on q couch before her.
Look there" said Selim, pointing to the
| precious ornaments with which Gunbilda was
decorated. "These are ours take them while
she sleeps"
The woman arose, handled the ornaments
pushed rudely the head of the senseless Gum
hilda from one side to the other, in order that
she might have better view of her glittering
having satisfied herself as to their value, she
looked at Selim and said, They are rare and
ne she is Ghrss ssim %hv
take them at oncef Why not remove them
whilst she sleepsw
"No," replied the Turkish woman, al will
wait until she awakes. 1 shall then take them
it will then he greater pain to her to lose
| them, when she sees herself despoiled of them
by stranger that she knows has no right to
wear them"
1T is a woman's thought" said selim.
And therefore more cruel, though not so
base, as a b Sc mans base deed Better for a
WON an to rob a woman openly, than for a man.
with q sword by his side, to run away with q
woman, and run away from men, was the
sharp and caustic reply of the Turkish fe-
male.
Selim looked at the handsome, frowning face
of her who spoke to him; but there was de-
sperate scowl on her brow, which made him
desirous to avoid an angry colloquy he there
fore sought to turn away her wrath, from
whatsoever cause arising, with the remark 8.
have not thy wit, lara"
"No, nor my spirit either" replied the wo-
man, not in the slightest degree sootbed into
calmer temper by the compliment paid to
her. "He is but miserable animal, who has
neither the wit of a woman nor the spirit of
man."
"What wouldst have of me ?" asked Selim,
CALLED by her reproaches.
To he man." dryly replied Tara.
"To be a man, echoed Selim. az do not un.
derstand thee"
81 am sure thou dost not-canst not under
stand me because if thou vast what thou
since fulfilled thy vow. That thou wouldst
have done, instead of skulking and thieving
about the Christian encampment; consorting
one day with some miserable Greek, whom
thou callest Alexander, and then plotting the
next with a ruffian mendicant whom thou
never namest-and all for what? to carry off q
wretchcd, helpless, uuohendDg Christian wo-
man like the poor creature who is, see, now
struggling into a consciousness of her stua-
tion. There, run to her, help her, give her q
draught of water, will not; do tbou, slave,
wOmans work, for free mans work thou
hast not the bravery to do"
Selim's hand grasped his sword; he half
drew it from lis sheath, when the woman
bounded across the floor, and drawing forth
her own tiny dagger, flashed it's gltiering
blade before his eyes, she said, in q bitter
jeeIing, jbiug tone, "Thom hast made no VOW
+" shay me-, and therefore, perchance thou witt |
do what thou hast not promised; whilst that |
whoh hast been promised still remains upper |
formed. To STAY me would be to- sIay a Mahum- |
me,ian woman. Thou hast not vowed to do |
this; To 8 ay s"nie prince in the Crusaders
army would beAto siay Christian, and that til . |
follower ut M,hOn,et viii not perform b-caus.
IE 10 dangerous But there may be- danger also
in nLLAokInp nIe and thrr.f,,rp \ as, scr,, Z -,