American citizen. [volume] (Canton, Miss.) 1864-1890, 1873-07-12
THE SMUGGLER'S LEAP.

i
can ever be again, so charming-a creature.
| No nymph. or sylph, or winged ariel, or
Syren with song and mirror. was ever so
| fascinating-no daughter of Eve so pretty
and provokingl'
This apostrophe, which certainly APP
pears now that in cooler moments | recall
it, rather rhapsodical, was not uttered rico
| rOce nor even s0tt0 UOce, seeing that its OBJ
| ject, Miss Dora M'Dcrmot, was riding
along only three PAGES in front of me,
whilst her brother walked by my side.
| 1t was a mere mental ejaculation, elected
| by the surprising PROJECTIONS of the afore-
| said Dora, who was aSSuredly the most
| charming girl l had ever beheld. But for
| the Pyrenean scenery around us, and the
rough Unconditional mule on which she
| was mounted instead of the Spanish jen-
net of well-bred English palfry that would
| best have suited so fair an equestrian, /
| could, without any great exertion of fancy,
have dreamed myself back to the days of
| the M'Gregor, and fancied that it was Di
Vernon riding up the mountain-side, gaily
chatting as she went with the handsome
cavalier who walked by her stirrup, and
who might have been Frank Osbaldistone,
| only that he was too manly looking for
SCOTS somewhat etfeminate hero. How
beautifully moulded was the form which
| her dark, green habit set off to such ad-
| vantage; how fairy-ike the foot that press
ed the clumsy stirrup; how slender the
fingers that grasped the rein! She had
discarded the riding-hat and senseless
bonnet, those graceless inventions of some
cunning milliner, and had adopted head
dress not unusual in the country in which
she then was. This was beret Of flat
cap, woven of snow-white wool, and sur
mounted by crimson tassel spread out
over the top. From behind this elegant
couture her dark eyes flashed and spark
led, whilst her luxuriant chestnut curls
fell down on her neck, the alabaster fair
ness of which made her white head-dress
look almost tawny. Either because the
air although we were still in the month
of September) was fresh upon the noun
tains, or else because she was pretty and a
woman, and therefore not sorry to show
herself to the best advantage, she had
twisted around her waist a very long cash
mere scarf, previously passing it over one
shoulder in the manner of sword belt,
the ends hanging down nearly to the stir
rup; and this gave something peculiarly
picturesque, almost fantastical, to her
whole appearance
Upon the second day of my arrival at
the baths of ST. Sauveur, IN the Pyrenees,
| had fallen in with my old friend and
college chum, Jack M'Dermot, who was
taking his sister the round of the French
watering places. Dora's health had been
delicate, the faculty had recommended the
excursion and Jack, who dotted upon his
only sister, had dragged her away from
the gayeties of London and brought her
off to the Pyrenees. MDermot was an
excellent fellow, neither a wit nor Solo
mon; but good hearted dog who had
been much liked at Trinity College, Dub
lin, where he had thought very little of his
studies, and good deal of his horses and
dogs. An Irishman, to be sure, OCCASION
ally slight touch of the brogue was per-
ceptible in his talk; but from this his sis
ter, who had been brought up in England,
was entirely free. Jack had a snug estate
of 5000 year; Miss Dora had 100000
from her mother. She had passed two
seasons in London; and if she was not
already married, it was because not one of
the fifty aspirants to her hand had found
favor in her bright eyes. Lively and high
spirited, with slight turn for the satiri-
cal, she loved her independence, and was
difficult to please.
l had been absent from England for
nearly two years, on Continental tour;
and although l had heard much of Miss
M'Dermot, had never seen her till her
brother introduced me to her at ST. Sau-
veur | had not known her an hour before
l found myself in a fair way to add another
to the list of the poor moths who had
singed their wings in the perilous light of
w
that, like themselves, l was on a desultory
sort of ramble, and had not marked out
any particular rOute-Offered me a seat in
their carriage, and urged me to accompa-
ny them, instead of prudently flying from
the danger, foolishly exposed myself to
it, and 10! what might have been anticipa-
ted came to pass. Before l had been in
Dora's society an hour my doom was
sealed; had ceased to belong to myself;
7 hnr nf hpr
smile and bright eyes-talismen more po-
tent than any lamp or ring that djinn or
fairy ever obeyed.
A fortnight had passed, and we were at
B. During that time the spell that
bound me had been each day gaining
strength. AS an intimate friend of her
brother, was already, with Dora, on the
footing of an old acquaintance; she seemed
well enough pleased with my society, and
chatted with me willingly and familiarity;
but in vain did l watch for some slight i'll
dication, glance or information, whence
to derive hope. None such were per-
ceptible, nor could the most egregious
coxcomb have fancied that there were.
We once or twice fell in with other ac-
quaintances of hers and her brothers, and
with them she had just the same frank,
friendly manner as with me. L had not
sufficient vanity, however, to expect a
woman, especially one SO much admired
as Miss M'Dermot, to fall in love at first
sight with my humble personality, and
patiently waited, trusting time and asst
duty to advance my cause.
Things were in this state, when one
morning, while taking an early walk to
the springs, l ran up against an English
friend, by name Walter Ashley. He was
the son of country gentleman of moder-
| ate fortune, at whose house l had more
| than once passed week in the shooting
season. Walter was an excellent fellow,
and perfect model of the class to which
he belonged. By no means unpublished in
his manners, he had yet sort of plain
| frankness and bOnhomn,e, which was pc
culiarly agreeable and prepossessing. He
was not university man, nor had he re
ceived an education of the highest order
| spoke no language but his own with any
| degree OF correctness-neither played the
| fiddle, painted pictures, nor wrote poetry.
On the other hand, in all manly exercises
| he was "A proficient; shot rode, walked
| and danced to perfection; and the fresh
| originality and pleasant tone of his con
| versation redeemed any deficiency of read
ing or accomplishment. In personal APP
! pearance he was splendid fellow, nearly
six feet in his boots, strongly, but at the
same time symmetrically, built; although
| his size of limb and width of shoulder
rendered him, at twenty-six, rather
what is called fine man, than n
slender or elegant one. He had the
| true Anglo-Saxon physiOgnomy, blue
| eyes, and light brown hair that waved,
rather than curlcd, round his broad,
mustache the fellow had, He was
| .fYia ~, oil