The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1879-03-13

his balance; but In vain. In an in
slant more he hung over the edg,
of the precipice, slender shrub hi:
only hold on life. There was ne
possibility of reaching him. H,
was past all aid. But cool anC
brave 10 last, he cautiously endeav
F ored to brace himself against th'
rock. Perhaps if he could no
climb upward, he could chamber
down. His foot rested at last upor
projection. 1t was just in time
his fingers were giving way. "HolC
on! Hold on, sir!' cried the guide
"In a few minutes we can give yoI
a rope. For the love Of HEAVIER
don't look DOWN. "de holds th,
rose between his teeth yet" saic
Pierre, a lover himself, and wei
aware why this hower was SO eager
ly sought. sFather, we must save
that MANI Prepared to take til,
leap which would place him in a pc
sition, whence rope might b'
thrown around the brave English
man. He stood poised upon til,
rock, hut at this instant, horrible tC
relate, the foothold to which Lore
Wellington trusted, gave way. Hi:
weight had forced the rock from its
position; it fell, and he fell with it
The guides uttered yell, and stood
staring down into the abyss. Far
far below they could see dark fig
ure lying across the jagged rocks
And as it lay, a stray sunbeam
flashed on something white. Ii
was the Alpine rose. 1--WE must
take the dead body back TO the
hotel anu tell the horrible story,' -
said the old man. "Ah, who would
be guide TO men who would not
be guided" Then no more was
aid. ScramblIng, sliding, lowe rim 9
themselves by means of the ope,
ather and sons al last gained the
spot to which Lord Arthur had tall
en- in instant. Helpless ne lay
across the rocks. White with ago
ny, but not insensible. The large
blue eyes were wide open, ana the
pale lips drawn back in pain, showed,
still held between the broad, white
teeth, by its long, snowy stem, the
Alpine flower which he had pIucked
at such fearful cost. His eyes
turned towards Pierre. He knew
what the helpless hands would have
done if they could, and took the
rose. 81 nave only a little while
to speak," gasped the sufferer
Pierre, take the blossom to Lady
Isabelle Fonstin. Tell her plucked
it with my own hand, and-that l
have-gone on. Paul, you and
Jean must take me elsewhere-not
back to the hotel. Tell no one of
10y fate; swear that you Will tell no
one that l am hurt. l have a friend
at G.; he will see that you are well
paid foi your trouble; take me
there" But, Monsieur, what shall /
say-how eXplain?" cried Pierre.
mo explanation" signed the wound
ed man. "keep it from hei. Give
her the flower and-my love- and
he tainted. 1t was not until late in
the afternoon of the next day that
Pierre, the young guide, stood be-
fore Lady Isabelle, with the Alpine
rose in his hand. He found his
task very hard indeed. "Mademoi
selle," he said, THE gentleman, Lord
Wellington, has sent you this flow
er, with his love He bade me de-
clare to you that he plucked it him
self, and he did, saw him, Made
moiselle." ''Why did he not bring
1t TO me himseit?" thought Lady Isa-
belle, taking the rare and beautiful
rose in her hand. Aloud she said,
"My thanks to Lord Wellington.
But has he returnedY mo, ma
demoiselle. He babe me tell you
that he had gone on" Gone on!
You misunderstood" Pierre's task
grew harder yet. mo, Mademoi-
selle. He said he would go on with
my father and brother Jean. L
don't think he will come back"
Then he turned and ran away.
Lady Isabelle flushed crimson, then
grew white as the rose she held be-
meath her taper fingers. :tAh, | un-
derstand nowH' she said to herself
"This is a punishment for me. /
permitted him to risk his life to win
nv love, and now he tells me plainly
that my love was not worth the risk,
though he was too brave to shirk
the danger" 1t was repetition of
the old story of the lady, who cast
her glove into the lions den, and
bade her lover bring it back to her;
he had brought it, but only TO fling
It at her. So, Lord Wellington had,
as she believed, punished her. In
bitter wrath Lady Isabelle flung the
rose upon the ground and left it
Meanwhile, father and son, Paul
and Jean, bore the sad and almost
IifeIess burden toward G..
a year passed away. Lord Ed
ward Montrose and his bride had
been travelling all this time. Lady
Isabelle, who was Lady Montrose's
COUSIN had remained with them.
No news had reached them of Lord
Wellington; no letter, no message,
even to tell them where he was.
They knew that he was not at home,
or they would have heard of him
And lady Violet had told her hus-
band that she believed Isabelle
somehow at the bottom of his sud
den and mysterious disappearance,
so that Lord Montrose had found
the matter easily explainable. us
abelle has refused him, silly girl, he
said, "she should have been proud
of such lover; she may never have
as good chance again" "But Ed
ward, you surely could not wish her
TO accept one whom she did not
love. She is of too warm and pas
sionate nature to be happy in such
union, no matter how devoted be
might be to her." said Lady Mont
rose. "No, no." replied Lord Ed
ward, Il could not expect that. She
would never wed one whom she did
not love; but she is the kind of a
girl who throws herself away at last
upon a rascal. l have no hope or
patience for such girls" swell,
well, what is done cannot be undone,
you know; so there is no use OF
saying any more about II, or of Civ