Litchfield enquirer., 1878-10-31

an April day j. that lfH Weepe at mgh1 US morning smiles are no less bright and gay.
 ''Yet what noble, sensitive, true-hearted child !" murmered Paul de Font Reale, conf dingly to sea and sky; land when time and a little lmingling with the world wear of her shyness, what a charming woman she will becOmel And a handsome woman too," be pursued, by no means blind to Melanie's budding beauty-''a handsomer woman even than her mother. An if I only Il wish-I wonder" And here Paul's ''ifs'' and 'twishes" and 'swonders" were cut short by sharp and sudden cry of pain; pow erless fell his. strong young arms an instant waters had closed, glancing and dimpling. above his handsome head. -sA
 And Melanie the saver of lives, swan gayly toward the shore. where Justine and a scream ing bonne, calling upon the Virgin and all the saints, walled and wrung their hands.
 But, my good Justine," cried MeIanie, in laughing impatience as she 9oated into 'shal- low water, 'pray be quiet. You know that I am as much at home in the water as a fish, and you can see with your own eyes that 1 am safe and sound. Do cease being so frighten- ed. Your screams will arouse the whole vil- lage, and maIlan will be4so annoyed"
 ''Oh that they may '" cried Justine, finging up her arms. Ely, Marie and call for help. It is Monster Paul, mademoiselle. The cramp must have seized him, and-Bon Dieu 1 but he sinks again! Will no one come to save him? But no >mademoiselle shall not-but noi Ah, grand Dieu, she is gone! o bon Dieu, protect her o Father above, save them!" and Jus tine, wild with helpless terror, sat down among the wet and shifting pebbles, and with up- raised arms cried distractedly to heaven. -- -+
 ''Call Pierre !' rang back a sweet, coura- geous voice, already yards out into the dimp- ling sea-''call Pierre p
 For an instant Melanie's life-blood ceased to flow, her white limbs trembled, and her laugh ing lips grew pale then some inspired strength seemed to shoot into her young arms, a strange and sudden calm into her heart. ; 413E~k
 'Fathcr above, help me, and I shall save him :" she prayed, bounding through the pull sing sea with the swiftness of despair. r.
 And when some matted -sun-brown curis fOated third time among the glancing sum- buried itself clutchingly among their plenteous waves. sg - -s ~@ s Af ~f H@
 Paul de Font Reale was saved, but almost had he looked his last upon that blue and smiling sky, that limpid laughing sea, the for est and the fields of waving green beyond. Only young girls fearless heart had stood be- tween.
 And but for Pierre the boatman who flew responsive to Justines distracted call, it had even then gone hard with that young girl and the soul she held above those smiling depths: AS she reached the platforms Melanie felt her strength, keep up till thenbys the exctenaent of despair, was going, and she could only cling with her unconscious burden against it's slip pery corner, until, uttering faint glad cry, she dropped into the friendly boat, and was drawn to Justine's faithful panting bosom when, instead of fainting quietly away, she burst, between weakness, joy, and excitement, into perfect storm of tears. She cried and sobbed and chung to Justine like a frightened, grieving child, while warm salt rivulets stream ed down the faithful handmaid's face, and good Pierre's cheeks were drenched with quick falling drops that did not often fill his honest eyes. 5e
 "There there" said Justine soothingly, between her own sobs, as she patted her young mistress's wet and shining head-"there it is all over, and Monsieur Paul is saved. His heart still beats-God forgive the lie, for I perceived it not !" she muttered to herself as they neared the shore, where a crowd seemed magically to have sprung from out the stones.
 Saved l" shouted Pierre, hoarse with ex- citement, 'by the grace of God and our young demoiselle ;" and the boatman's lip quivered again as he took Melanie too weak to walk, from Justines arms, and bore her through the hushed and wondering crowd. sAs8
 "Ah but that race was always brave," said one stalwart fair-haired fisherman to a large and sunburned woman who stood beside him land our young demoiselle is the.bravest of them all This is the third life she has saved. But what thing for a slight young girl like that to do! And to think we strong men should all have come too late It covers us with shame"
 "And my little Jean was one, you know," sobbed the woman ''my little Jean was one. Mou GO6 op6 thu holU Virrip hloco hnrI If and as Pierre passed on, holding his dripping bur den, the grateful woman, crossing herself devoutlv, kissed with reverent trembling lip the little hand hanging cold and pale over good Pierres broad shoulder.
 ''De Beauvais," said Monsieur De Font Reale, an hour or so later, as they stood to- gether in the door of the little casino where Paul was being tenderly cared for by the kind ly fisher-folk, "I know nOt"-and the good old baron was not ashamed of the mist that dmmed his eye, or the sob that choked his voice, trembling with cmotion-"but she is even more modest than brave ! To think of her doing thing any man would be proud of all his life, and then to come home and never say one word about it, but quietly pursue her innocent affairs, as if saving a life were the most ordinary thing in the world!" The baron frankly wiped away the tears that trick lcu QOWn ms Klnu Olu lace.
 ''Friend." he went on, in broken voice, 'I covert that treasure 1 want that modest lion heart of gold. Wilt thou let me have the little Melanie for my Paul ?'
 Monsieur De Beauvais grasped his old friends hand. 'I could wish for her no happier fate, " he said; 'but only if she like the boy. l made marriage of convenant; it was well, as thou knowest, but all are not and my only child shall wed for love. Yet, friend" and Monsieur De Beauvais, despite his ''new de- parture," was true to his instincts, after all, ''Melanies fortune will be small, and : Paul is poor" & .As #& q
 ''Be easy," interrupted the baron, his tears changing into smiles. 'I have put by feW francs the world knows not of. Paul will have enough to keep his wife in bathing clothes. If Melanie like him, the thing is dOne." @
 Paul, whose restoration was long and te- dious, did not appear at the much-belated nid> way breakfast, at which poor Melanie sat blushing. like a rose beneath the, ,ovations she received. Madame De iBeauyaiss her mother heart profoundly stirred, covered her with a thousand tender, unwonted caresses her fath- CT, with moist eye and trembling. lip, kissed and petted her the old baront in uncertain broken voice, blessed her; while Augusta flew with swift, adoring feet to execute his young mistress's slightest wish.
 The sleepy peaceful little village was thrown into quiver of excitement. sAlelanie's name was in every month, and the chateau was be- sieged with visitors of high and low degree, making kindly, anxious inquiries after the young heroine, who sat- confused and laugh ing, within. When Madame De Bauvais re- luctantly went to receivea visitorof more than usually exalted rank who had called in person, Melanie, gladly escaping, wandered out alone into the sunny garden.
 Behind her rustled the sombre blank green forest at her feet. in sweet monotony, splash ed the old stone fountain; while before her the boundless sea spread out it's eser-changing tInts Long and earnestly Melanie gazed out over it's tremulous expanse, but her cheek pal ed as the agony of these few despairing mo- ments, that seemed to stretch into eternity, rushed back upon her soul
 Turning at length, with half sigh, she met the deep and earnest look of Paul de Font. Reale, who stood, white and silent beside her.