Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1880-02-07
CHAPTER III.

A soft languor stole over his senses. he
was in the state between sleeping and
waking, when one is not sure whether he
is in a living world or in world OF
shadows. At such time what IS most
extravagant is accepted as most probable
there is nothing to wonder at in the stran-
gest contradictions. Reason sleeps; imag-
ination reigns in its widest forms. Ii the
enchanted mortal lies in darkened room,
where palpable objects are shut from his
sight, his mind is dominated by phantasms
which have no prompting from what is
passing around him. To the lover comes
sweet and gracious face, shaped like
flower, which represents the light and
loneliness of the earth to the miser,
suit of diamonds, in which he sits and
gloats, while troops of pomes empty sacks
Of gold at his feet; to the widowed heart
a dear form, lost to her forever, which
says with radiant smile, +" 1 live;' to the
poet, star, which kisses him, and to
which he talks as to a beloved comrade.
The new visitor to the Silver Isle lay
under different form of enchantment.
The full sunlight was upon him he was
surrounded by breathing, moving life, and
the shape in which it presented itself to
him was inspired by his inner nature,
nature essentially dreamy and poetical.
Gazing before him with half-closed eyes,
every object that met his sight was in
vested with an air of delicious unreality.
The clouds appeared to be thousands OF
miles away, and the human workers in the
fields, with the landscape beyond, were
wrapped in hazy mist The delusion ex-
tended to the voices of the reapers words
that were spoken within few yards of
him came to his ears now as though from
an ilimitable distance, and now quite close,
like the soft murmuring of leafy wood.
Color and sound were in perfect harmony
with the restfulness of time and scene.
The dreamer yielded INTERESTINGLY to the
sensuous spell, and believed himself to be
enjoying foretaste of eternity.
Thus he lay until the messenger who had
been sent for Father Sebastian returned,
with the message that the magistrate
was in the market-place, and desired to see
the stranger there Unwillingly he rose,
and followed the man over the lower slopes
of the hills, which were dotted with clus-
tiers of pretty houses, built in various styles,
to suit the tastes of the inhabitants. Every
house was surrounded by verandah, and
was embosomed in garden of flowers.
The eye was refreshed at every turn by
evidences of refinement and simplicity.
The roads were well kept, the hedges were
beautiful in their variety, being formed
chiefly of holly, sweet barberry, and species
of privet and the air was impregnated
with the sweet perfume of syringa floating
from dusky avenues of trees, now with the
more delicate fragrance WAITED from distant
fields of lavender.
"Mauvain was right, unused the stran-
ger. "When man is surfeited with the
sweets or disguised with the Bullets of the
world, this is the land to come to, to spin
out what remains of the days of his life. !"
Father Sebastian was at the market
place in few days the autumn games
were to be held, and men were working
under his direction, fixing flags and poles
and bushes, aud preparing the ground for
one of the great fetes of the year.
"Yonder is Father Sebastian, said the
messenger,
An old man, whose white hair flowed to
his shoulders, advanced to the stranger,
and saluted him. 81 regret" he said,
''you should have had the trouble to come
to me, but l could not leave my work
men.
''The gain is mine," said the stranger +;
sit has given me the opportunity of see-
ing something of your beautiful isle /;
though should have been well content to
dream the day away in the fields with
your haymakers."
eve live very practical life, said
Father Sebastian sour people are not
dreamers. You come from Mauvain?'
"Yes. Harold, said Mauvain to me,
a short time ago, you are wearied with
the world -"
"You" exclaimed Father Sebastian,
interrupting the speaker, whose age could
not have exceeded twenty-five years. $50
young man, wearied with life !"
"It surprises you," replied Harold,
languidly "but have you ever asked
yourself the question whether there is any,
thing in life worth caring for?"
81 am thankful to say have never been
brought to that pass.
81 have-many times. Life is made up
of pleasure and pain, in neither of which
is there much variety. One kind is much
like another kind, and the sensations they
produce are always the same. 1t is good
that existence has natural limit. In such
land as this man might accept without
much misgiving the gift of immortality, but
in the busy world it would be purgatory.
Harold said Mauvain to me, you are
wearied, exhausted excitement has been
bad for you. You need repose can offer
it to you. 1 am in want of friend to
execute delicate commission for me.
select you as that friend fit is Mauvain' s
way to take things for granted when he
wants favor donel- ~ select you as that
friend, and in obliging me, you shall oblige
yourself. You are ever signing and search
ing for simplicity will send you to an
isle where its spirit dwells.' He explained
the commission to me, and / accepted it. I
must do Mauvain the justice to admit that
his description of the Silver Isle was not
strained. His eloquent words stirred even
my sluggish blood.
% We hold Mauvain in high regard Is