The morning star and Catholic messenger. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1868-1881, 1874-09-27

taken place with the deepest dismay; the al
lection which they had always borne to their
princes was now enhanced by compassion, and
there was o universal outcry against the
treachery that had been committed. But the
numerous French garrisons, which occupied
the length and breadth of the land, with the
want of unanimity among the citizens them
selves. paralyzed the Edwards (such was the
| name given to the patriotic party, from the
threatening claws of the Flemish liop); SO that,
| for the present, with all their excitement of
! feeling, they had no spirit for action, and
Philip remained in quiet possession of the in
| heritance of the Count of Flanders.
On the first receipt of the evil tidipgs, Adolf
of Nieuwland's sister, Maria, had proceeded
| with q numerous retinue of servants aud a lit
| ter to Wynandael, and brought back her
| wounded brother to their paterna1 house at
Bruges. The young Matilda, so painfully sew
cred from all of her own blood, was glad to
accept the invitation and escort of this new
found friend, and to escape from Wynandael,
| now occupied by Frsnch garrison.
The house of the Nieuwlands lay in the
| Spanish street at Bruges. At either angle of
| its gable front rose a round tower, crowned
| with a weatbercock, and commanding all the
neig hboring buildings; the arch of the door
way rested two pillars of hewn stone of
| Grecian architecture, and over it stood the
shield of the Neuwl lands, with their motto,
+" Pulchrum pro patria mori," having for sup
porters two angels with palm branches in their
hands.
In q chamber away from the street, and
! quite out of reach of the sound of it's unceas-
ing hustle, lay the wounded Adolf on q mag
nifcent bed. CHASTITY, pale and worn to a
skeleton by the pain and fever of his wounds,
he was hardly to be recognized. At the head
of his bed stood small table, and on it a
| flask and drinking cup of silver; against the
wall hung the breastplate that had failed be-
fore st. Polls lance, and SO been the cause of
his wound beside it was harp, with its
strings loose. All about him was as still as
death. The window-curtains were half drawn
SO that the light in the room was hut doubt
full cleaning, and no sound was keard except
the painful breathing of the wounded man
and the occasional rustic of silk dress.
In one corner of the room sat Matilda, silent
and with her eyes fixed upon the ground. Her
falcon was percbed on the back of her chair,
and seemed to participate in its mistress sor-
row ; for its head was buried in its feathers
and it showed not the slightest movement.
The young girl, formerly SO light-hearted
and joyous that grief could touch her. was
now totally changed. The Imprisonment at
one stroke of all that were dear to her had
given a shock to her feelings, which caused
everything to appear dark before her eyes
For her the heavens were no longer blue, the
fields no longer green her dreams were nc
longer interviewer with threads of gold and
silver. Sorrow and brooding despair had fonnG
the way into her heart ; nothing could console
her under the torturing image of her beloved
father con fined in prison aud in foreign
land.
II After she had thus sat for some time motion
. less, she slowly from Der seat, and tool
her hawk upon her hand. With eyes full o
tears she looked upon the bird, aud thus spok
= in a low voice, while from time to time sh
:. | wiped away tear from her pale checks:
Mourn not so, my faithful bird; our lor
my father will soon come back. This wicke
, queen shall do him mischief; for 1 hav
- prayed SO fervently for him, and God is eve
just mourn no more, my darling bird"
! Warm tears trickled down the maiden
. cheeks for though her words seemed full {
- hope and comfort yet her heart was all tn
while oppressed with the deepest sorrow. /
q mournful voice she continued ..-
y My poor hawk, now we can no longer 20
:, low our sport in the valleys about my father
castle for the stranger has his abode in tn
. fair Wynandael. They have cast my unhapp
a father into prison, and bound him with heav
40 chains. Now he sits and sighs riserably
ar the dark cell and no knows whe ther the fe
es Joanna may not even take his life, my darlin
r bird Then too will die of grief! tt
,e thought, the frightful thought alone deprive
ii me of all strength. There now, sit down; f,
le my trembling hand can no longer bear YOU"
st And then, in an agony of despair, the pot
b. child sank back upon her chair but her chez
n grew no paler than before for long since ha
r it's roses faded; and only her eyelids were re
is with constant weeping. The charm of h,
of features was gone, and her eyes had loSt a
8, their life and fire.
ie Long time she sat, sunk in sorrow, and pas
Id ing in review the long array of gloomy image
er which her despair had conjured up before he
She saw her unhappy father chained in dam
ID upwholesome prisou,-she heard the clankin