Mower County transcript. [volume] (Lansing, Minn.) 1868-1915, 1883-11-21
MIRIAM.

Beneath the lofty cliffs which frowns
above the "silver streak there il a
sht lter.d spot called Madeira, which is
much affected by those who love the
gentle glow of the winter sun.
1t was there upon certain morning,
that Herbert Trevannion found himself
in a bath chair. A fail from his horse
and broken limb HAD brought him to
Brighton. He was horribly bored, of
course, and had he had sympath1zng
friend, he would have expressed himself
thus:
"What in the world am I to do with
myself in this abandoned place? There
is not place open to me; not soul to
speak to; not even woman to love-at
least not good-lookipg one: And to
think that it will be at least month be-
fore can cross horse! It is madden
ine!'
In despair he produced paper-the
Daily Telegraph and abandoned him
self to the charms of its sparkling col
umns.
He was in the midst of letter from
a suburban butterman lamenting the
difficulty Of providing, in these hard
times, with a due regard to their posi-
ton in society, for eleven sons lawfully
begotten, when thesould of wheels dis
turned him. It was only a bath chair
passing. An ordinary occurrence
enough. But in this chair was woman
With face which seemed to interest him,
FIR he followed it with his eyes steadily
ill it passed away up the cliff out OF
sight. Then he exclaimed: "What a
perfect beauty! She is the vsry image
Of that Greuze at home. Who can she
be?"
Perhaps he obtained an introduction
TO the "imyge of Grenze" through the
French chai: man, or more likely, pre-
scented himself sans ceremonie; at all
events, he is standing month after ward
by her side. He is quite well nov and
able to hunt, aud in fact, is hunting, but
Lot the fox. "For beauty lures the full
grown chil:l' as effecsually az the red
ve1min OF the woods, and as often as not
leacs him "a chase of Idle hopes and
Fears" to finish up, alas with tears.
That the quarry is hard pressed is ev.
ident, for her ftce is unusually pale. and
her voice trembles as she murmurs in
reply to an appeal OF Der companion,
sit can not, can not be y
But if you will not marry me, what
will YOU do?"
"Go home and try to forget you"
"You dare Mt 60 home, for you can
not forget me"
The "luage" turned her face toward
the sea, and was silent for while; then
said, What you tell me- is, alas, too
true; cannot forget YOU.
"Then marry ~, Miriam y
81 caunot marrv you" she repeated.
"T-ll me, are you engaged to be mar
ried q
81 am not"
What, then, is the meaning of it
Never miod what it meaus. enough
that love y'u too much to leave you.
Plac7, then, your hand in mlne,"
sail the hun'er. "an'i I will lead you
tar away beyond the sea, to where W.
s1ali be to one ano'her all in all"
Agaia there was a silence. Then
sain the woman: "Clo>e your eyes for
moment, Herbert, aud premise me
on your honor that you will never
seek to l~arn who l sm and whence I
came, nor to speak to me again of mar
riag-."
IL promise"
Then che drew from her left hand a
glove, and cast something, with sigh,
into the sea.
Snow open your eyes," she said,
"ard here is my hand, and with it my
heart. Let the dead past bury its dead.
1 will go away with You whenever and
whithersoever you please"
I'm one unclolded blsze Of Twin =
slight" the sun is sinking behind the
rugged outline OF Les Hes .Sanguinaires.
From the bosom OF a cobalt sea the pur-
pie peaks Of Sardinia project themselves
far into the pale, transparent ether,
whilst broken shafts of silvery moon
light CLEAN through the chestnut trees
upon the desoIate house where, two
years before, Trevannion had brought
the fair captive of his bow. They are
on the terrace watching the dying day.
Silently and sadly, hand in hand. they
note the shadows of the "isles OF
blood" creep along the sea. Presently
one speaks-it is Marian.
Il have been happy, very happy,
here with you, my we'll beloved, and
the thought of parting is bitter pain,
but my days now, know, are mum.
bered."
Trevannion leant over the couch on
which she was lying. and looked steadily
into her face. There was a charge he
perceived, even since the morning. He
had known for many day that she was
too fragile to live. He saw that the
shadow of death was indeed upon her.
But BIZ answered never a word.
"You have always been so good and
kind to me-" she continued, "tbat
know you will not refuse me another ia
vor, the last I sLall ask of you"
"What is it that you would have me
do for you, Miriam p
81 would have you by and by-when
l ana gone-take nae away from here.
and lay ma away in the old churchya1d
on the cliff at homp; and l would like
) on TO beg the rector Of the place toread
he service of the church over me. The
rector, you understand, not the cur
ate."
He kissed her brow, and said, You
have never told me, darling, where your
home H."
~ know. But when tits all over you
will learn that from my papers, and the
name of the rector as we'll"
"Shall I take you there now? Per-
haps You would like to see this clere y.
MAJ p
she did not reply, only shivered. The
air OF the Mediterranean at sunset some.
times strikes cold. II think will 20 in
now, aernert," che said presently; IT
feel q little tired"
That night she grew worse. In week
; the wandrrer wa- at rest.
To Rev. josiah Smir hers, Old Haven, I'd.
-CLuB, LONDON, July
DEAR S1R-Shorty before the death of nv
wlfo, which took place last month in the Island