The Cheyenne daily leader. [volume] (Cheyenne, Wyo.) 1870-1884, 1881-03-05
A REPAID DEBT.

1t vas the dusk of evening, md
nights shadows were quietly gathering
in the little German village through
whose outskirts two lovers stroiled.
They had left behind them the cot
tages, and had wandered off among the
| green fields and under the shade OF the
trees, behind which the sun had almost
sunk to rest.
1t was an old story, the story of their
loving. They had been betrothed since
the girl was fourteen, 1t was well-nigh
five years now, and on her nineteenth
birthday they were to be married.
She was an orphan, and her snug
dowry, lying so safely nestled
away in the village bank, she had
accumulated by the labor of her
own hands. But a shade was on
her. lovers face tonight, and even in
the shadow her quick eye discerned it.
Sing to me. Hans" she whispered.
knowing that in song Hans Werter for
| got all else.
After a moments silence, he obeyed
her. and the sleepy birds woke in their
nests, and almost Indignantly drew
their heads from beneath the soft shell
ter of their wing, to listen to this
strange, wonderful rival to the sweet
ness of their notes. The air was filed
with the exquisite melody. 1t rang full,
and clear, and sweet. It sank down 70
the ~violets, as they stirred to the listen-
ing wind. and scared to the stars.
Poor little Margueritei Hans mus;o
always brought the moisture to her blue
eyes, but tonight it seemed filed with
something she had never heard before,
and her little hands were tightly inter
laced, and her red lips parted in a sort
Of painful ecstacy.
But at the close, she was all UMPIRE
| pared to sec him end the last note in
a dry sob. then fling himself down on
the sward and bury bis face in his
hands.
Hans. what Is itP'i she cried sinking
down beside him, and trying to rciss
bis head upon her breast.
Was he weeplngp She had never in
all those years seen him thus moved.
His powerful frame seemed shaken TO
It's innermost centre by tho torrent Of
emotion which awept over it.
Almost rudely, in his Inconsistencies
to all but his own suffering, he repulsed
her, only the next moment to be filed
with remorse.
Conquering himself by q mighty e.
fort, he drew her to him with gentle
force.
Forgive me. DEAR" he said softly,
''but never ask me to sing again. Mar
guerite. 1t only teaches me what I
might have been. and what l am. Think
what 1t would be IL | had the money 70
reach Italyl l could have the world II
my feet Marguerite-I could be great
and famousl l know it, feel it But
| am chained here. tending nv hstds
and feeding my cattle. powerless 10
break the chains | ,ccd 70 much %
ey-so much-and have &C utt,A
Though ! sold all ! bad IN the World. 70
would uvt ,.'nr - 70 ms -fs
and. No. NO! I must give it up; but
neyer-never ask me to sing again"
The girl answered him nothing, as she
stroked the hot brow with the little,
cool hand, which, all Drowned and
hardened as it was, fell very softly.
very lovingly.
In her eyes he was a king, this shep-
herd-lad. Instinctively she knew that
silence Is ofttimes more healing than
speech; and, besides, . wonderful dnz-
cling thought had crept into her own
busy brain, and driven all lighter
thoughts away.
Still, silently, they rose and walked
silently home. At the door of her little
cottage, he stopped and kissed her on
the brow, as they stood beneath the stars.
In two more months he was to 81 are
her fate-the home left her by her dead
parents-so they both had thought
scarce an hour agone. Tonight Mar
| guerite knew differently.
How much would it bring, the sale Of
this humble little shelter?
1t was this problem which aonishod
slumber through the long night h.~rs.
1t was solved three days later, when the
sum for its possession by strangers, lay
in her hands, and. added to it, the nest
egg from the bank, made in the child's
eyes a fortune.
What mattered 1t that she was beg
garedP 1t was for Hans sake! 1t was
now her tur to be silent, as, hand-in-
hand, they walked beneath the golden.
studded skies.
Hans" she said, at last, very soft
ly, II have been thinking, dear, since
tho other night, and-and, Hans, we
won't be married yet awhile. A wife
would only pull you down, instead Of
helping you soar to the birds where you
belong. / don't want you to think Of
mel want you to go away, and study
to be a great singer"
And rs she spoke, she strove to
thrust the bag within his grasp.
.Margueriter'-she shrank from tho
sterness Of his tone-"how did you get
the gold?"
Honestly" she answered .roudly
1.-THE gold was to have been my dowr.
the notes-I-I sold the cottage Tor
those"
you did this for me, and you think
50 meanly of me as that l would accept
such n sacrifice%
His voice quivered as he spoke.
..Hans. l was to have been your wife,"
she whispered. .'Who had tho rifr,t, II
not Up Oh, / shall be 90 proud-so
proud. some day, whom you como back
for your little Marguerite, and 1 shall
be tho wife Of the great singerl Thev
will point at me and say. Yes. he mar
ried this little nobody, this little Mar
gueritc, but they say he loves herr and
they will think it strange that you