The Osceola times., 1881-04-23

and keeps watch over the palace and ia
surroundings.
This evening the palace is almost do.
serted, the prince being at the ball. leav.
ing his daughter at home, with no other
companion than her watchful duenna
who is beginning to draw long sigbs nf
relief at the thought of the speedy ter.
mination of her difficult task of keen.
ing in the paths of decorum and pro.
priety the unruly feet Of this ungratefnl
princess; for in three days the wedding
festivities are to be celebrated. WITH
much pomp, and after that, according to
the code of these good old times. the
lady may smile upon the Objectionable
Englishman as sweetly as heart can
wish. 1t has been fatiguiny
day at the palace, which the
hustle and confusion of the approaching
marriage fete is already invading; but. at
last, the two ladies are quietly taking
supper in the princess boudoir, about 10
O'Clock, having been good deal DELAYED
/ by visitors. And what can be the mean
/ ing of this innocent-looking white DOW
| der, which the younger of the ladies
/ stealthily drops with the sugar into her
companions glass, and which even the
argus eyes Of the duenna fail to discover?
Supper is over. The princess is watch.
ing rather guiltily, the elder lady nod.
ding in her chair, in most unwonted
| fit of drowsiness. Finally her ewes close
her head drops back and she is dream.
ing sweet dreams of her approaching
cipation-doubtless The princess
gazes at her breathlessly for a few mo.
ments, then quietly steals from the room
Outside in the dark garden and quiet
street, stiffness reigns. The sentry be.
low, has it all to himself-and still and
motionless as his surroundings, has been
staring fixedly at the palace, for what
seems to him an eternity-only inter.
rupted once by passer by, who tapped
him smartly on the shoulder-"iScsi,raio
is this your duty'-and the soldier
quickly drew himself up in the stiliest
and most bungingly executed of mill
tary salutes to the officer, frowning at him.
Eleven o'clock strikes from the ada
cent church steeple, the first quarter
then the half
"An hour later-and every moment is
50 precious" muttered the man--beating
an impatient tattoo on the wall of his
sentry box-"C an any thing have gone
wrong"
Suuut1llN luf dlltHliOH VI llllH most
watchful of sentines is fixed upon a
figure, which through the gloom, he can
Just distinguish issuing from the palace
II is the servant who came out twice
already, to bring in some flowers
or perhaps another of the evening visit
ors who have already raised his hopes,
afterwards to bring down maledictions
upon their heads, several times to night
70. a 4. a..
back of the garden, and the soldier mOv-
ing at last with swift feet, turns the cor
ner and takes his stand before a small
closed door in the wall. A moment he
stands breathlessly listening there-there
delay-there is some difficulty in turn
ing it-while the man outside is fairly
fuming with impatience.
At last it turns--the heavy door opens
with a most alarming creak, and female
figure, heavily cloaked and veiled-ap-
pears-starting back apparently in dis
may at merely sentry-where she had
xpccted-what?-bu the next moment
the tentry's arms are around her
the helmet and bayonet are flung
asidc-and the yellow hair she knows
and loves so well, is mingling with
her dark locks-while voice that for her
seems sweetest music, is whispering -"Ii
is beatrice my own loye-my bride!
Forgive me for Tightening you-I could
only let you know that should be here,
tonight, a. | did not know then certain
|. ly that my plan for winning you with
the bayonet would be feasible. The ear
. riage is waiting around the corner-and
/ hurrah for Old England
And thus ii is that We come by our
, lovely ancestrcss hanging yonder on the
E wall-painted in her Roman customc,
offering fruit to her guests-and to her,
= I-Bcatrice Pallayicini LcnoX am in-
: debted | suppose, for the dark hair and
eyes, which contrast so strikingly with
my Saxon-hued brothers and sisters
for in the various families of her de-
scendants there has never lacked at least
one Italian-,inted daughter, to keep alive
her name and the memory of the good
: old days.