Dodgeville chronicle. [volume] (Dodgeville, Wis.) 1862-current, 1874-02-13

GndI tdnglou udZc vi young man IN puf-
suit of vocation.
Captain Brown" said Gilmour, after
that worthy seaman had squared the yards
to his satisfaction, got his fancy waist
cloths at the gangway, and inspected the
ftting-on of the "good clothes" which a
merchant vessel dons in port-"do you
know any of the inhabitants of this odd
looking village on the hilLside?"
"'Villagep Mr.. Gilmour. 1 pray you
don't call this village. This is a city,
sir-the first city in California-and if [
mi take not,'' continued the Captain,
"yonder at the custom house stands the
G1c0lde, hospitable gentleman to whom
our company is indebted for many
favors."
A few moments afterward, both speak
ers were heartily greeted by that official,
who, as soon as the boats keel grated on
the sand, welcomed them to Mon
terey.
Among the many young and pretty
Spanish girls whom Gilmour met in
Monterey was Maria Ignacia. A spirit of
rivalry induced him to throw himself
into the lists with the Spanish gallants
who strove for the fair Maria's smiles.
He was more than successful. The diff
ference of his manner, his recitals of
adventure in Europe, and descriptions of
the grand places of history were some
thing so novel to Maria, so totally differ
ent from the stereotyped compliments of
her wooers, that she found a. charm in
his society which, in her innocence, she
cared not to conceal. But the end came
at last. The Delight was to proceed north
ward, and the supercargO prepared to
take leave of all his Spanish friends.
"And so, Maria," said Gilmour, on the
evening preceding his departure
"our pleasant visit comes to an end. Well,
have improved my Spanish; and you,
little Madonna, if ever the fates take you
to England, will recognize the abbeys and
the churches from my descriptions.''
Maria Ignacia did not reply, but stoop-
ed to pick up an abalone shell, which, wet
and sheeny, lay in the sand at her feet.
"And now, Maria, have only one re-
quest to make, which our charming &C.
quaintance warrants. 1t has three parts,
however, s0otUe'aSr from this dark hair
of yours; letter, now and then, when
you weary of your Monterey lovers, and
wish to talk to nae across the water; and
| "a kiss"
Still no answer from the girl, who, with
eyes cast down, strolled along by his side.
"Then / take it for granted that my
prayers prevail, Maria?"
Her soft eyes were raised to his, and
he was surprised to find how pale the face
was and how moist the rounded cheek
He raised her lips to his with half-sigh,
and then, as if new thought had sudden
| ly struck him, said abruptly, half to him.
| self and half to her:
/ "Good God it can't be so, Maria!
| Tell me-do you love me?'
The wonderful passion in the full
brown eyes, so tender and despairing,
| told him all; and then, like foolish
young man, he took her in his arms, and
Swore all the OathS that all lovers have so
often sworn and so often broken; and
when they strolled back over the sands
| Marias tears were gone, and James Gill
mour clasped the hand of his promised
| wife.
This was all the romance in Maria's
| life The next day the Delight sailed, and
| for ten years neither ship nor supercargo
was heard of in Monterey. But she
never married. She had strange way
of every evening walking to the hill
| top where the old fort stood, and look
| ing wistfully out across the water; then
sorrowfully and resignedly returning to
her home, nursing her invalid and sour
| tempered mother, and training the roses
about the adobe walls.
On this Christmas eve, Maria Ignacia,
kneeling before her old-fashioned engrav-
| ing of the Madonna, thought of the
| manger in Bethlehem centuries ago, and
wondered sorrowfuliy if James Gilmour
was enjoying in his English home the
Christmas-tree and the mistletoe, and all
those games he had told her of when they
walked on the sands ten years ago And
then her thoughts went back to that June
evening when he kissed her lips and called
her his wife.
Boom! boom! boom! through the still
night air.
Maria opened her window and looked
out. A party of Portuguese whalers went
rapidly by, and she learned from their ex-
| cited exclamations that a ship had gone
ashore on the Point Pinos rocks.
MAY God and the Virgin succor them!"
she murmured, piously, as she hurried to
wrap her shawl around her, and was soon
| in the street.
| Every one was astir. Men on horse
| back with ropes rode furiously along the
beach and toward the Point; the whalers
manned their boats, set their sails, and
sped before the blast through the moon
/ tGa
cruel, pointed rocks had torn the ill -fated
vessel to fragments; and the breakers dal-
lied with spar and mast, now flinging
them high up on the beach, and again
drawing them back to hurl them once
more against the brown cliffs. But not q
single body did the waves throw up that
night
Christmas Day dawned, and when Ma
| ria Ignacia Gomez looked from her win.
dow down to the crescent beach, she saw
a crowd of men standing about some
thing. They lifted it up and bore 1t
through the street, and to her door, for
hers was the house nearest the beach.
"Is he dead?" she asked, fearfully.
"When we first saw him." said a
whaler, che was clinging to spar, and
before we got the boat out he was washed
ashore"
They laid him on bed His dark beard
was full of sand and weeds, and a white
froth issued from his lips: finely built
man-handsome, no doubt, when those
eyes. now staring so blindly, had light
and life, and those well-cut lips moved
and smiled.
"Maria-Maria, what ails your"
She was standing by the bedside, her
hands crossed over her breast, her eyes
as fixed and vacant as the dead before
her.
90, my beloved!" she moaned, laying
her white face on his bruised and stained
breast; "at last, after so many years. y
And then she smoothed back the tangled
hair, and wiped the foam from the livid
lips, and straightened out the limbs of
him who had come to seek her after so
long.
Il ~. - ,.r.,