Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1885-01-29

snug little sum. A whole cargo OF
goods was to be struggled into GuIpu-
coca. The young c01ltrdbdndGsto was
full Of confidence, but the weather
was bad. All Gay and all night q
mighty wind was blowing from the
sea; and the sailors muttered in fear:
''It is Our Lady of Guadalupe passing
by m....-Oar Lady of Guadalupe, the
pale Madonna with the green eyes,
who, when she passeth by, taketh
with her in her ghostly flight all who
are belated upon the vast gray sea.
81 will retHrE In eight days" said
Maxine Sarrabeyrous, as he kissed
the red lips of his sweetheart.
But the eight days passed, and then
a aonth-two months-three months
went by and without any news of the
handsome contraba1adistG. Pascaline
cried frcm morning until night. AS
soon as her work was done, she would
hurry to the cliff, to remain there for
long hours at a time, with eyes fixed
upon the Spanish coast All had
| she only been free, how swiftly would
she have departed In search OF her be.
trothed, beyond the mountains tower
ing between her and Lowell But she
coula not go-she must support the
aged father ORe night cruel rumor
came that Maxine hac been killed by
the custom house oficers-the gGbe
lous. And in fact a whole year pass
ed without further news Of him.
Misfertunes never come singly; one
| night the little store took fire and
burned down; no one knew how it
happened. Pascaline and her father
were ruined. Noise Dumez, their
| neighbor, had escaped with his usual
good lnck; his house was not even
scorched. But he did not dare to ap-
proach the pretty Basque any more,
knowing she would say to him: You
are very kind, NJ Noise; but I shall
| wait for Maxine Sarrabeyrous- He
will come back, am sure. But if he
should not come back, shall be faith
full to- him as though I were his widow.
And I am q good girl, resolved to
make my own living" Yes, she was
q good, brave girl-poor Pascaline;
especially brave and good considering
her unhappy situation.
After her little store was burned she
could not work for herself any more,
| but had to work for others-auch
| harder than before, and for much less
money. Now the old man had to re.
main all alone the whole day, and he
was visibly declining. Two years
passed, and still no news of Maxine
SarrabeyrOus. Finally the misery of
father and daughter became so great
that Noise Dunez was seized with pity.
Besides he was more in love than ever
excited by the very disdain of the
beautiful girl, so fresh and young. He
took courage andapproached her once
more.
"PascaIine, I do not now propose to
you merely because / can offer you a
fine social position. But you are Ger
tainly killing yourself with work
and if anything should happen to you
your father would simply die OF hun
ger. Maxine is dead, Pascaline. You
ought, think, to marry me, and SAFE
your father"
She never answered a word, but
while she cried silently, she allowed
the old man to take her hand. So
Noise went to father Pascal, and told
him all. The old man shook his head
anN JOaQSO S4OWIJ
paja Gqoo e.. los ,,idos gO De- 'd otoSo roy
(tbere are no birds in the nests of au
tumn.)
But they did not kneel before the
old man and the old man die not
bless them.
Three days before the wedding day,
just at the moment of the autumn
equinox, the pretty Basque was walk
ing along the lighthouse path. near
the grotto, when voice behind her
cried
"Pascaline! O Pascalinel"
Trembling like leaf she murmur-
ed: Maxine thee, Maxine p
and, like a wounded bird, fell into
her lovers arms. It was indeed he,
still handsome, though thin and pale.
He pressed her to his breast, very,
very tightly.
''It is not true, tell melt is not
true thou will marry Noise Dunsz"
1T is true. If | do not marry him
my father will die for want OF food.
Why didst thou not come back9"
Because the Spaniards captured
me and kept me In prison. But am
now free; and | can work.
But what will become of father
should they capture thee again 2"
Speak not of such things, dearest;
let US rot discuss them. / love
thee?'
And he covered her face with kisses,
and he drew her gently towards the
grotto, and she resisted not; and IN
the soft light of the great cave they
talked to each other IN low, very low
tones, each pressed TO the others
heart IN infinite ecstacy Of reciprocal
love. But at last, tearing herself from
his arms, she said:
IT'S late, late! Let me go now, I
hear midnight striking"
May, It's not midnight; It's only a
flight of seagulls whlrring by"
A long time afterward she said: