The Cheyenne daily leader. [volume] (Cheyenne, Wyo.) 1870-1884, 1878-09-11
THE DUMB N

Spanish gay was waning to its sunset, an(
the dimness Of the room where Maraquit,
was sitting was lighted up by little fieck,
OF western rays that came through tn,
lattices and played upon her white dres,
md the cool white Of the marble floor
She was sitting upon a couch of light con.
struction, the whole being twisted from
canes while her small feet, with theil
oehcate silken slippers, were resting upor
another couch of the same material. Around
her swept the waves of her long black hair
which she was coiling and uncoilinp al,
ternately; now gathering the heavy masses
into one or two long, rich braids, and Their
ninging down the wreath of tresses, until
they covered her like a bridal veil.
The poor little Spanish maiden was eyi.
IDENTIFY i'll at ease. The elastic lounge. upou
which her slender figure was supported,
swayed and bent with her nervous move.
ments; and the pet dog that lay beside her,
vainly trying to lick her hand, seemed
astonished that it would not lie still long
enough for the operation.
What can I do, Max? " she said ad-
dressing the dog. ~ am a siIly little
maiden, and dread to have it found out
that 1 en- SO. Here are my good father
N mother, in whose eyes l have been all
perfection, and who thought that even this
grandiose Don Carlos was not more than
nalf good enough for me. will now believe
hat the spirit of evil has taken me. Max.
you are a good dog, but 1 don't believe you
have wit enough to get poor Maraouita de
Mona out of his difficulty"
Max laid his paw on her arm, closed and
Enclosed his eyes, and looked as wise as
some others might when expecting a tale of
confidence from n young damsel but
M~araquita's playful mood had passed, and
she rose and paced the room with restless
steps.
By this time the sun had sunk out of
sight, and the voice of Don Albert de Mona,
calling to his daughter to be ready for a
drive to the plaza, was heard, as he
descended the stairs and knocked at the
door.
"Not tonight, father. she replied at
am ILL My head aches terribly-pray ex-
cuse me. 1 will remain here quietly until
you and my mother return"
Well, the afternoon has been s~ultry.n
said her father. "Lie down and rest
while we are absent. Shall 1 call your
maid -
"No, father" she replied, az do not
need her-Is shall be better alone"
Better alone Alb, Donna Maraquita, thy
poor father is deceived, but thou canst
not hide it to myself that it is only to see
the handsome painter of Logrono that thou
sittest braiding thy beautiful hair-only to
watch him, as he comes down the street in
the twilight, and as he looks up with eager
glance at the lattice. to throw a moss rose
bud at his feet. Thou knowest, too, that
at that token he will venture to enter thy
presence, and that his lips will greet thee
as the one dearest to his heart. Not with
words will be that greeting, but with
another language, always understandable
language OF kisses.
No, not with words-for the painter,
Navarette, is both leaf and dumb But
there is no need Of words for lovers. And
SO it was with these two lovers they met
and parted, with only the souls te~legraphic
signals, and they needed no echo from the
lips.
Donna Maraquita had been invited by q
friend, some months before, to visit the
studio of Juan Fernandes Ximenes Nava-
rette, to see a beautiful painting of the
Virgin which he had recently executed.
This young painter, who was called Ell
Mudo, from his misfortune, was rapidly
gaining fame, and this very painting was
the great stepping-stone to public favor.
The excitable Spaniards warmed with en-.
thusiasm at the beauty of the head, which
was said to have been copied from that of
the artist mother, Donna Catalina Ximenes.
Among the many who visited the studio
were Don Albert and his daughter. The
beauty of the painting, the flial, admiring
reverence of the artist in taking his
mothers head as q model, the silent
world" in which he lived, all wrought
upon the susceptible Imagination of the
young girl, and from thenceforward Ell
Mudo was associated in all her dreams.
On his part the painter had seen q vision
of beauty such Us he thought he never
before beheld and yet it must nave been
only the sympathetic and cordial manner
of Donna Naraquita that induced the
thought for, although she was indeed
noble-looking. and with a grace blended
with dignity, yet SO were many others.
Again and again she came, sometimes
accompanied by her father, but oftener
alone and at last the painter was delighted
to find that she could converse freely with
him in the deaf and-dumb alphabet. With
what joy he now related to her his whole
life-its moarnful childhood and youth.
when no sound of bird or breeze or human
voice could reach his ear and how he used
to go wandering for whole days through
picture-galleries, until the idea seized him
that he, too. Lust paint, and how that,
ever since that hour, he had lived in u
higher and more exalted sphere, and was no
longer the lonely man, apart from his fellow
creatures, but that his art was the one
grand link that bound him aud them
together.
But what more did Fernandez impart ?
He told her. too, hat the moment he saw
her he felt that she was to be the connect
ing link between him and happiness.
And yet how-oh, how can l take you
from the living, speaking music OF the
world, and bind you to the speechless
silence that ever surrounds me?
Her trembling fingers telegraphed to his
mind that she wanted no higher destiny.
1t was enough for the affectionate girl that
he loved her. She would give worlds that
his lips could speak but her love could
never be lessened because they were silent.
How to break the tidings to her parents
was now the great object of her solicitude
and on this very night she had promised
Fernandez that it should be told them. He
came at the twilight, held n brief interview
felt it impossible for him to make their
comprehend.
When Don Albert and his wife returned,
they heard all from the lips of the trem.
bling girl. Tenderly as they loved her, they
could not give her up to a fate like this.
They entreated her not to give him any
hope their decision now could never be re.
versed. Maraquita yielded to their tears
'M MRHd D." 6 SGpl ths sr STORM SaSN il arIRs eI f. st tafi was nsr n
less severe. Her parting with Fernando
the next day was a terrible scene. TIL
sight of his dumb and powerless anguisl
was more affecting than the most impas
stoned speech. The only consolation whicl
he could receive was the solemn assuranc,
of her continued affection.
They parted -Maraquita to go to he
lonely room, which no persuasion could in
duce her to leave, and Fernandez to til,