The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1880-09-10


tossed the branches of the trees about, and
spoke of fresh gales and rougher water out
! at sea. I almost doubted then that had not
been wrong in being so ready to let him GO
Oh, the days were weary; the nights sad,
"with my guide man ava.
At last however the week was gone. Ed
ward will return to-day, l thought, as l OPEN
ed my eyes upon the clear dawn. The dove
stood on my window sill and pecked at the
panes. 1 flung the sash up and she flew out
GO" said |, perhaps you will cross his
path"
And tried to wait his coming calmly, but
in vain; as the afternoon drew on | could
rot stay in the house. 1 did not know the
hour of his return, but foolishly set forth to
meet him. / only intended to wander about
near home, but soon L found myself at least
three miles away from its gates and near the
old building where l had found my carrier
pigeon and which had named Dove Tower
And now fancy came to me From the
top of the tower one could overlook the road
to Tralee as far as human sight could reach
and could see either pedestrian or horseman
who came along it from that town. resol-
we'd to climb the stairs and watch thence for
my loves coming.
did 50. 1 reached the top of the tower in
safety. | leant my head upon the parapet
and looked along the road. Carriages rolled
swiftly along it; horsemen gaIloped by ;
pedestrians plodded slowly toward me.
There were long intervals between them, for
the road was not busy one. Few people
came farther than the next town, but 1
watched for hours, but still my rider came
not. l could not mistake his graceful figure
or the black horse he loved SO, his bright eyed
Romeo. The sun approached the horizon,
the shadows grew long tears arose to my
eyes.
Perhaps, after all. Edward would not re-
turn that day, and l ought not to remain in
: the tower it was time / took my way home
ward. With one lingering glarce toward
Tralee, / turned in the direction of the old
stone staircase, but, happily, before my foot
had touched it, a sound like clap of thunder
smote my ears the tower was shaken to its
foundation, and was thrown upon the floor
For little while l was too terrified to move,
but at lasted lifted myself and looked about
ME. What had happened? The sky was as
J clear as ever, the earth showed no traces of
anyconvulsion of nature. A terrible thought
and tremblingIy l approached the staircase,
doubling that my strength would be sufficient
to descend it, but feeling that flight alone
could save me. Alas, flight was impossible.
, There were no stairs to descend. Half at
! least of their crooked length was gone. 1t
was their fall that had shaken the tower.
/ 1 clasped my hands over my heart and
knelt down, trying to utter prayer as one
+ who knew herself upon the verge of eternity.
/ But nothing more happened. Soon 1 began
/ to be comforted by the thought that the tow
er was not about to crumble into utter ruin,
. that hour at least. PerhapsI might be saved.
/ l leant over the parapet below a man plod-
ded by-a lahorer going home from work.
He looked like toy figure. l called to him
I I screamed with all my voice. Evidently
no sound reached him he went his way
/ a jaunting car drove past upon the road.
Again l shrieked. Again / knew that my
cries were wasted on the upper air.
My prayers for aid might reach Heaven,
but they could never be heard by man. Sick
to the soul, l ceased my cries. ! had one
/ hope left. He might come, my husband, my
! love. Surely there was that between us that
would cause him to hear my voice, if inaudi-
J
He would come to my aid, led by some inner
knowledge of my presence-some magnetism
/ or clairvoyance.
Despair departed. | strained my eyes
aloEg the road. Oh surely, surely, l could
not mistake! That was Romeo. l knew
j his black form, his fine head, his step, too
well, not to besure of it. And it was Edward
/ who rode him. My Edward. 1 waved my
kerchief in the air. l lifted my voice again.
/ 1 screamed his name-Edward Edward
/ He could not hear me yet, 1 knew but
was wild with hnpatence. lie came on.
/ He was beneath the tower. He paused mo-
ment, iand looked up at l..
Edward Edward l am herer'
shrieked. Edward! Edward -
! Alas he neither heard me hor saw my
] fInttering signal He dofred his hat for a
moment, looked at the tower again, and rode
on. AS he went l tore my hat from my
head and cast it down, hoping it might at
tract his attention. Alas the wind caught
it and blew it l knew not whittier. My hus-
band passed on. The sound of his gay whis-
/ tie arose to me- could hear that, but my
despairing cries could not reach him.
l sank upon the floor and hid my face in
my arms. lie was going home. lie would
not find me. No one knew where l had
gone, OF when left home. He would search
for me, weep for me, perhaps die of my loss
and meanwhile | should starve to death, and
the fierce birds would pick the flesh from my
bones on the summit of that high tower
. from which l knew | should not have the
courage to cast myself down.
! My voice had been so strained that il was
now only whisper; my limbs failed me
my eyes grew dim. l abandoned myself tC
despair. 4 fluttering sound and the flirting
of wings across my face aroused me from
the lethargy into which had sunk. Som'
birds were flying about me. Had they come
TO feast on me already? l opened my eyes
the thing, whatever it was, had alighted OF
my knee it perched there, looking up al
me sidewise, out of one of its red-ringed eyes
1t was dove.
''Great heavens - l cried, cit is my dove
it is Cupid -
1 knew him by his tints, by his shape, mos
of all oy his familiarity but ! had a surel
proof in the remnant of blue silk still pend
ant from one of its feet, thread by whicl
the letter Edward had sent me from Trale'
had been tied | caught the dove to my
heart, l kissed it and held it tight, at frs
only as a friend from home, but in II moment
rs something sent by heaven to save me
Doubtless the little creature came daily t,
to the old tower but it seemed to me a mir
acle worked in my behalf, for at dusk Cupid
would fly home, and with him he shoul,
bear the summons that doubted not woul,