Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1878-03-06

"Gordonr' The cry seemed to be re-
peated again and again, though soften
/ ed by the echoes. while the little boat
sped on its way, and it's passengers
mere dark specks they seemed climb
ed into the yacht. The white sails
cleaned against the horizon. and then,
phantom-like, were lost in its dim
purple rsr
turned and looked at Mary She
stood with her eyes fixed On the dark
ness which hid the yacht from sight.
her hands clasped upon her heart, her
face drawn and colorless. feared that
the fate her friends dreaded for her had
stricken her as she stood beside me
there in the still, luxurious twilight
Mary, my dearest, my own! what is
it?' taking her hand and drawing it
closer
She drew her hand from mine, and
shudderlng away from me, leaned
against the stone parapet, resting her
head on the cold marble coping.
You are i'll; let me take you home,
darling" [ said
"No," she murmred, "not ILL., But
OH" she exclaimed, "Harry, Harry! my
good, kind friend, help me! Gordon
was near us just now. | felt it; am
sure of it. You will help me to find
him, will you not?"
Help her to find him! help to break
my own heart-to bruise this new-found
sweetness out of my life! The very
thought struck me with sudden chill.
What if this fancy of hers, coming so
close upon my sure forebodings, should
be a reality? What if Gordon Frazer
were still in existence? [ thrust the
thought from me as I should thrust
a temptation. II will help you in any
way / can, my darling" I said: =" but
come IN now; the night air is chilling,
and you are giving way to feverish
fancies"
"No," she said, cit is no fancy"
Drawing herself up YEARLY, she turned
without looking at me, and followed
her down the terrace and across the
marble court Of the old palace which
was our home in Genoa. I watched
her glide, stately and pale and quiet, up
the broad white staircase
1t was months before she recovered
next mOrning-such awful months, du-
ring which we often feared the worst
Yet when they were over, and she was
among us again, paler, stately, more
fragile, but still her own beautiful self,
selfpossessed as usual, [ was almost
thankful for the terrible illness, which
proved that her cry and wild words on
the terrace were but warnings Of coming
illness, the mere wandering of brain
diseased
The Roman season was nearly over,
yet Rome was full-full Of English
sightsteers, like ourselves full of Amer
leans, on rapid flight across Europe
Of Eastern prelates, in flowing Eastern
robes, with olive-hued Eastern faces of
eager-faced French ladies, and solemn
eyed peasants from lonely villages on
the Campagna, and of Italians from
city and from plain for it was Easter
time. We were only waiting until the
on our journey home. Home! Inever
until now felt half the meaning of that
word. When we got home Mary and
would be married. [ should give up
wandering, and settle down into coun-
try gentleman. [ thought with a pang
Of self-reproach of the grand old home
which called me master, shut up in
desolate state since my dear father
died. How fair young mistress would
brighten and beautify the old rooms. [
could see it all now-the oaken hall
with its quaint old pictures spring
sunshine pouring in at the open door,
relocated sportsmen grouped under
the beeches, horns ringing from the
copses. children playing under the
shadow Of the avenue Of limes-the
loveliness of joyous life, where for so
long had been the silence left by death.
It was sunny dream of Monochrome
in fair England Into which I had
fallen standing there upon the Pin
clan, under the deep dark blue of Ro-
man night.
Below lay the city, its narrow streets,
dimly mysterious, no light visible in
their tall houses the fountain muir
INJURED its sweet mOnotOnOus music in
the Piazzi di Spagna the wide white
marble steps cleaned along the hill
side; tall palmtrees cast weird shadows
across the graveled walks nightingales
answered each other in low, ricn thrills
of song, echoing from tree to tree,
through whispering palms and odorous
night flowers. Beside me, bold and
silent, was the woman whose charmful
spell woke within me this new sweet
longing for Monochrome musical with
the soft rustling of wonen's garments !;
with the tender voices of little chill
dren. [ suppose such dream and
such a longing come to all men at
some time of their lives it came to
me that night as | stood above the city
of vanquished glories, of dead and
buried dreams.
It did not last long. Suddenly
above the city roofs a cross of silvery
light shone out against the sky. The
illumination of St. Peters had begun
Above the winding, narrow streets,
above palace roofs, above palm and
cvnroSS above trI1mpha1 arch and