The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1879-02-21
Select Story.
LOST ON The MOORS.
BY MARY T.. MOFFAT.

VIDE stretch OF breezy moorlaud, covered
with purple heather, sky whose radiant
sunset tints were fast fading into neutral
grays. Far in the distance some slowly ris-
ing smoke spiralsSold of warmth and shell
ter. 1t was grateful sight to the eyes of a
young man who had lost his way among the
seemingly interminable solitudes, broken
only by the sound of startled rabbit, or
whirling of frightened partridge.
Shoulderng his game bag he at once turn.
ed his steps toward the dusky harbinger of
home comfort.
As he reached the modest cottage he
paused almost unconsciously, and looked in
upon the family group just gathered around
the table for their evening meal Then he
passed on and gave brisk rap at the half
open door.
1t was answered by 3 young girl. Dof-
fling his cap, the stranger said:
I am alone, aud have lost my way among
the moors. Can you give me the wherewithal
to break my fast and after that direct hint
homeward p
Come in, SIR said the farmer, who had
followed Marion to the door. You are well
come to aught we have. Eat and drink first
then it will: be time enough to think of leav-
ing. Haste, Marion, and a chair for the
youth, and bring hot porridge.'
As Marion obeyed Louis DeMornay's eyes
followed her with look of wonder lurking
in their dark but brilliant depths. How had
such pure white lilly blossomed from such
rugged stem, with skin so satiny soft
that the blue veins upon the temples could
be traced beneath it, and eyes 50 large and
clear in their Gncouded blue that one could
easily imagine them tinted from the sky it,
self as they looked out from waving masses
of sun-bright hair, fastened only by the
modest knot of blue ribbons.
Louis DeMornay was a young Cuban who
had but lately fallen heir to large estates,
both in England and upon the continent.
One of these was q fine hunting seat in Scot
land, in which he was spendi' the autumn
months ; and being of romantic tempera-
ment 1t was great pleasure to him to sally
out without his gamekeeper, and to make
his way over the country alone. This was
the first time he had become bewldered as
to location, and with the enthusiasm of his
tropical Southern nature, he added silen.
but earnest thanksgiving to the old cottager's
blessing over the food they were about to
partake for it was to him like the hand OF
fate that he had been led to the home which
enshrined such maiden.
Never, in his wanderings over land or sea, had
his eyes rested on one so beautiful, and like
some blossom which remains folded in its
calyx for years, and then burst at once into
gorgeous compelling beauty so did his
heart open to receive into it Marion's i'm.
age,
She could not but feel the influence of his
magnetic glances; and color stole softly up
into her cheeks, and the blue eyes scarcely
dared lift themselves from out the ambush
of the fringed lids as she listened to his con,
versation with her father. Why did hel
heart hutter so with pleasure when he &C
cepted an invitation to remain until the NOR
row ? She was glad to seek the solitude o
her room to question and chide herself
What had this fiery-eyed stranger to do will
her simple cottage life Yet the memory o
those burning eyes would come back an,
thrill her very soul with their sweetness.