The herald and mail. [volume] (Columbia, Tenn.) 1873-188?, 1874-10-23

where unknown sea-fowers bloom anC
die forever remote from human ewes
He was astonished at himself, Womer
bored him, had always bored him; but
here was this water-nymph, who had
never read a book in her life-for the
alphabet was to her an unexplored mys
tery-who could not discourse of poll
tics, the poets, or the magazines, work
ing her way into his indolent nature
and quickening him to exchange thought
for thought, until he felt the poverty ot
his book-culture as compared with al
intelligence framed and polished by
Mother Nature herself. Her mind waE
white page, free from the very shadow
of worldly grossness.
One evening, as Thorpe sat on the
porch, listening to the whaler's recitals
OF his exciting lagoon adventures and
watching Juanilla's weaving fingers, 9
Spaniard lifted the garden-gate latch,
and was greeted warmly by the whaler.
We have heard from Pancho," said
the newcomer. "He has done we'll in
the lower bays, and as soon as he can
will ship up 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
hardly conceal.
She simply answered "I am glad
that Pancho has been lucky. Poor fell
q hnnT1 n
Thorpe arose, and, bidding them an
abrupt good evening, walked rapidly to-
ward the sands. "My God II said he,
aloud, "what have been doing? Am
L dreaming? This is terrible-terrible
1t can't be possible that L love this
daughter of a wretched pauper fisher
man but by heaven l''-and he struck
his forehead with his clenched hand
this is jealousy, SO sure as there is
such passion; and if the intense con-
centration of all feeling, an ABSORPTION
of ones self into another, be love, then
l, silly fool that am, love this pauper
curse me !" For an hour he paced up
and down the cliff overlooking 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 believe she
loved him, and he knew, or thought he
knew, enough of her character to feel
assured that his wealth and position
would not influence her one dot. But
who was this Pancho ?-no 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 concerned him too
much and, full of anger, love, and
perplexity, Thorpe sought his lodging.
Long before dawn next morning he
was on the sands, awaiting impatiently
the arrival of Juanilla And when at
last she stood on the cliff from which he
had seen her first, the quick heart. t.beat
and the Joy that flushed him were addi-
tional alarming convictions of the inten-
sity of his passion. He could not, for
the life of him, mention the incident of
the previous evening until they had
walked some distance along the beach.
Juanilla stood barefooted at the edge of
the tide, now turning round with a
merry laugh when the incoming wave
splashed up to her knees, and again
shouting with delight when more than
usually rare moss was thrown up.
Thorpe sat on a rock, and watched her
"Juanilla, come her for a moment"
go, senor, here is beauty, the pref
tiest bit have caught in a week. But
why do you look SO grave this morn
ing?" and she took a seat beside him.
Thorpe took her hand in his own, and
looked down into his 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 az an
Choir.
"Juanilla, when is your wedding
gown to be Teady?"
She turned TO him a white, startled
face, trembled, and the great tears dim
med her eyes, but she was silent. And
then all Thorpe's self-possession forsook
him. He took her in his arms and pres
5ed her to his heart. He called heaven |
and earth to witness, that, were she a
queen, he could not be prOuder 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 |
md kissed it. "Senor," she said, sim
ply, 81 love you but we were betroth- |
ID from our cradle. 1t was his mothers |
lying wish that we should be married, |
md my father swore it. An oath can
lot be broken. Good-by, and the white |
fu l,1 n
good by !" She tore herself from his |
lrms, bounded up the rocks, and was
,ut of sight in a moment.
Thorpe walked up and down the sands,
md Taved like a madman. He wept and |
noaned, and kissed over and over again
he hand her lips had caressed. And
hen the storm was succeeded by an in
ense sorrow. He walked to the woods,
nd laid until evening under the pines.
In a week, Pancho's ship came in.
It was Juanill IS wedding morning.
The poor moss-gatherer was fearfully
hanged. Kind neighbOrs said that
nxiety for her betrsthed had stolen
he roses from her cheeks but the
tslwart young whaler was shocked at
he coldness with which his promised
ride received his caresses. The we'd
ling procession moved to the church,
'ancho gay and happy, and Juanilla's
ace as pale as the white wedding-go gown
he wore. The VOWS were exchanged,
nd the grsy-headed priest blessed the
married pair. And then they returned
o the whaler's cottage, the guitars were
ouched, and Pancho led out his lovely
ride in q Spanish dance. They had
carcely taken a step, when a cry from
be beach brought everybody to the
orch. A boy was seen standing on the
Inf, shouting wildly:
"Down to the boats the English.
Ian is drowning To the boats, or he
ill be lost !"
Before the wedding throng fully COM
the alarm, O white figure
urst from their midst. Like the wind
be dashed down to the bluff, then over
ne rocks, now lashed by the angry
'aves, for the tide was high and a strong
orth-wester blowing. At her feet
live, yet not struggling at all with the
Thorpe, his face full of
he agony of death. Juanilla sprung
rom the rock with a wild shrek, and
er arms encircled the drowning man.
md then, before even her husband
ould reach the cliff. a mighty wave
anne and drew them both far out into
Is depths. An hour afterward, the sea