The anti-monopolist. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1874-1878, 1874-10-29

|
was to her a beauty; fragment OF
mess, messenger from the deep sea
forests, where unknown sea-fowers
bloom and die forever remote from hui
man eyes. He was astonished at him
self. Women bored him, had always
bored him; but here was this water
nymph, who had never read book in
her life-for the alphabet was to her an
unexplored nystery-who could not
discourse of politics, the poets, or the
magazines, working her way into his
indolent nature, and quickening him to
exchange thought for thought, until he
felt the poverty Of his book culture as
compared with an intelligence framed
and polished by Mother Nature her.
self. Her mind was white page, free
from the very shadow of worldly gross
ness.
One evening, as Thorpe sat on the
porch. listening to the whaler's reci-
tails of his exciting lagoon adventures
and watching JuanillA's weaving fin
gers. Spaniard lifted the garden gate
latch, and was greeted warmly by the
whaler.
eve have heard from Pancho," said
the newcomer. ''He has done we'll in
the lower bays, and as soon as he can
will ship us over 500 barrels
''Good - said the whaler; $500 bar
rels Think of that, Juanilla. That
will buy you a fine wedding gown. my
daughter"
Thorpe started, stung by a thought
which for the moment sent the blood
in cold current to his heart, and
glanced at Juanilla with great fear in
his eyes, which, in spite Of his efforts,
he could not conceal.
She simply answered: 81 am glad
that Pancho has been lucky. Poor
fellow! he has been long time away"
Thorpe arose, and bidding them an
abrupt good evening, walked rapidly
toward the sands. 'My God!' said
he, aloud, "What have l heen doing !!
Am dreaming? This is terrible-ter-
rible. 1t can't be possible that love
this daughter of wretched pauper
fisherman; but by heaven!"-and he
struck his forehead with his clenched
hand-sthis is jealousy, so sure as there
is such passion; and if the intense
concentration Of all feeling, an absorb
ton OF ones self into another, be love,
then l, silly fool that l am, love this
pauper-curse mer' For an hour he
paced up and down the cliff, overlook
ing the sands where he had first met his
siren, and reflected bitterly on all the
folly of his unfortunate attachment.
Marry her he could not. Nay, even if
he decided to marry her, he did not be-.
lieve she loved him, and he knew, or
thought he knew, enough of her charac-
ter to feel assured that his wealth and
position would not influence her one
jot. But who was this Pancho mo
doubt her betrothed, yet she had never
mentioned his name. Still. her idiotic
old father spoke of wedding,gown.
Yes, Pancho-may the devil drown
him! had gone whaling to defray the
marriage expenses. But what did all
this concern him-this episode in the life
of poor fisherman's daughter? He
felt it conce med him too much; and.
full of anger, love. and perplexity,
Thorpe sought his lodging.
Long before dawn the next morning
he was on the sands awaiting impatient
ly the arrival of Juanilla. And when
at last she stood on the cliff from which
he had seen her first, the quick heart
beat and the JOY that flushed him were
additional alarming convictions of the
intensity of his passion. He could not,
for the life of him, mention the incl
dent of the previous evening until they
had walked some distance along the
beach. Juanilla stood barefooted at
the edge of the tide, now turning rOand
with merry laugh when the incoming
wave splashed up to her knees, and
again shouting with delight when a
more than usually rare moss was
thrown up. Thorpe sat on rock and
watched her modify.
"Juanilla, come here for moment. .
20, senior, here is a beauty, the pref
tiest bit have caught in week. But
why do you look so grave this morn
ing?" and she took a seat beside him.
Thorp took her hand in his own, and
look ed down into her brown eyes. The
clasp of those tiny fingers thrilled him.
She seemed to recognize the passion IN
his gaze, for she turned TO the bay
where the fisherman's skiffs were lying
at anchor.
s'Juanilla, when is your wedding
gown to be ready 2
She turned to him a white, startled
face, trembled, and the great tears
dimmed her eyes, but she was silent.
And then all Thorpe's self-possession
forsook him. He took her in his arms
and pressed her to his heart. He
called heaven and earth to witness that,
were she queen, he could not be more
proud of her; they should be married
at once by the padre, and sail with her
father in the next vessel for his English
home. Did she love him!
Juanilla leaned her head over his
hand and kissed it. ''Senor," she said
simply, 81 love you; but we were be.
trothed from our cradle. It was his
mothers dying wish that we should be
married, and my father swore it. An
oath cannot be broken. Goodbye, and
the white saints bless you. 0. my love