The Arkansaw traveler., 1885-02-21

some day you will marry your equal and be happy" and his voics grew sad.
 "I will never leave ycu, papan she answered innocently, as she drewcloser to him And they sat there silently- happily, until his old frame, weary with the long journey, succumbed to nature his head sank forward aud he dropped tasieep- p-and dreamed of the halls and honcrs of the Montezumas She toyed with his slender, shrunken fingers, and caressed the waves of silky, gray hair upon his brow, until she, too, weary, like a contented child, sank into dream-land, with her head resting upon his knee.
 The next day, facing the frosty west wind, an old man, on whose hard, cold face, was suave smile, rode away and disappeared in the wilderness. He was again to face curious world from which he meant to hide his real nature, and that world, piqued that it could lot fathom his heart, suspected and dreaded him. "My heart is my own," was a maxim he had been taught long ago, and now it had grown to be a part of his nature. k. V t-
 At Blennerhassett's island he again met Colonel Burr, and with other letters, he crossed the river and passed on to- ward the city of Mexico. In forts, in monasteries, in convents, he was the same persuaSye, iuexplicable cautious old man. Withholding all, he seemed to unbosom himself, that others would speak with confidence. He sounded the troops, the church, the people, when they were least suspecting-no wonder that at times his smile grew contemptuous.
 Two months had passed. The expe- dition had proved failure, and Colonel Burr was an arrested traitor.
 The lines of the old mans smile grew harder as he read this in an United States paper, and they only deepen little, and the lines of contempt became only a little more discernible, when in the City of Mexico, he read the proclamation setting a price upon his own head.
 The next evening an old countryman drove cart out of the city. Some one observed, ss they noticed the horse, "a powerful beast" but no one thought of it second time. AS night closed over the road, the driver unhitched his horse from the two-wheeled vehicle and saddled him.
 Alone, never stopping for rest or food, he spurred his steed over the barren plains. He had intended to cross the river at Natchez, but suppose he should be recognized, would not his fate be like that of Colonel Burr?
 He reined his horse northward, pom dering: "Why not go to the Washita land and build a forest home, and live forever away from the mocking world of bitter disappointments9 Was not the splendor of Roumanie's eyes splendor enough for him2 Ike was too old to &C., complish anything in the great world. His last die had been cast and lost.
 "Away in the heart of the forest, with her, beautiful and true, the zephyrs would fan his aching head to repose, and she and he would be happy, let the world do as it will"
 Farther and farther he has ridden up the Washita, flowing placidly to the sea.
 He crossed the river, and close upon its bank, he found lake, and near, be- side it, gently sloping knoll, covered with long, silky grass. The murmuring | voices of the giant forest spake to his | soul, like the voices ot gods.
 He rode away, and aAer several days returned with tools. He built hovel | and covered it we'll, and where one side was partitioned to itself he daubed it well with clay to exclude the chilly air. "That shall be Roumanie's chamber" he said, and shadow of pain arose, but it passed into hard smile, and his face was dark for the rest of that day.
 Roumanie had heard of the catastro- phe, which she knew must blast her fathers hopes; but she had heard noth- ing of him. But she had confidence in | his knowledge, and she knew that she must wait. One night her sobbing changed to wild, happy cry, as he en- tered. Her eyes of love could penetrate his disguise and he pressed her nesting close to his heart. He told her all that 1 he knew that he had been prescribed l and had come to bid her farewell; or take her to the wilderness with him. Friends across the ocean, would care for l her if she wished to go, and maybe it would be better that she should go. No, | .N sAA