The Washington critic. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1885-1888, 1885-06-24

not work for herself any more, but had to
work for otbcrs--much harder than be-
fore, and for much less money. Now the
old man had to remain all alone the whole
day, and he was visiby 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 disiain of the
beautiful girl, so fresh and young. He
took courage, and approached her once
more:
"Pascaline, do not now propose to
you merely because ] can offer you fine
social position. But you are certainly
killing yourself with work; and fanything
should happeli to you, your father would
simply die of hunger. Maxine is dead
Pascaline. You ought, think, to marry
me, and save your father"
She never answered a word, but while
she cried silently she allowed the old
father Pascal, and told him all. The old
man shook his head and responded
slowly:
"Goodl ga v good.--No hay prjnyos
en- los niios de oton0!-n(there are no birds
in the nests ofautumnD
But they did not kn6el before the old
man and the old man did not bless them.
at the moment of the autumn equi-
nox, the pretty Basque was walking along
the lighthouse path, near the grotto,
when a voice behind her cried:
"Pascaline! 0 Pascaliner
Trembling like leaf, she murmured:
"Maxime.-thee, MaximeH--and like u
wounded bird, fell into her lovers arms.
1t was indeed he, still handsome, though
thin and pale. He pressed her to his
breast very, very tightly
ut is not true, tell melt is not true
thou will marry Noise Dunez?"
ut is true. If ] do not marry him my
father will die for want of food. Why
didst thou not come back"
Because the Spaniards captured me
and kept me in prison. But | am now
free, and j can work"
But what will become of father, should
they capture thee again?n
Speak not of such things, dearest; let
us not discuss them. j love theer
And he covered her face with kisses,
and he drew her gently toward 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 ccstacy of recip-
rocal love. But at last, tearing herself
from his arms, she said:
Otis late, late! Let me go now; / hear
midnight striking"
Ndy, us llOt us only u
flight ofsca gulls whirring by
A long time afterward she said:
40, how the sea roars; what if we
should be swallowed upn'
Nay? tbs not the sea roaring, It's only
the great chanting of our love"
A long time afterward, she said once
more:
80, Maxine, dost not hear how the
wind raves"
Nay tbs not the raving of winds--his
Or Lady Of Guadalupe passing OPT o 90
The last hours of our life are the first OF
our night of love. Thou shalt never
marry the Other now! Lo love; this is
our nuptial chamber: and the wave shall
be our vast green winding-sheet!" ~ "a q
And he closed her mouth with kisses OF
fire.
They found the twain next day, inter
locked in the embrace of DEATH and that
grotto is still called LIZ Chan,bre d Amour
The old man is now quite paralyzed. He
begs for aims beneath the shadow of the
church walls. He seldom speaks; but from
time to time men hear him mutterlng tc
himself:
WOE! woe % % o La espc,uRsd era rerd
y pgs Jorrico Ia coWtoi' ('IIope was green
and an ass devoured t.")-[ Translated fol-
New Orleans Times-Democrat.