The Mankato free press. [volume] (Mankato, Blue Earth County, Minn.) 1879-1924, 1886-09-10
IN PART AVENGED.

IN PART AVENGED.
you will sing for me once more, will
you not, Miss Virgie? Remember, go
in the morning, and who can say
whether or not we will ever meet
againp"
Lazily, languidly he said the words,
lying full length at her feet Oh the sun
lit sands; but the dark eyes of the girl
turned on his handsome face with
startled pain in them, while her olive
cheeks lost their rich color.
She WAS only sailors daughter,
born and bred beside the sea, 1.-the of
limb, and pure of heart, with glancing
lights in her dark eyes, and free
laughter on her crimson lips; he was
an idler from the world she did not
know, who had been drifted by fate to
that quiet spot, where he had fingered
for whole long summer.
Had it been chance that sent him to
the little cottage on the cliff seeking
board, when, arriving late in June, he
found the Beach Hotel filled with
guestsp Who can tell? He had thor
oughly enjoyed the summer, and now it
was past, and he had asked this wild
bird for song, ere he bade her farewell
forever.
you will not come back, them" she
asked reathlessly-"you will never
come back? Oh, surely you do not
mean that!'
He smiled little and turned his
golden head. resting it more comfort
ably in his clasped hands.
a. a.
said carelessly; lone summer is enough
to spend away from civilization. No.
Miss Virgie, will never come back; so
sing me one Of your quaint old ballads
as final farewell. will rise with the
lark in the morning and fit back to my
world"
her, but felt no pity for the girl who
would miss him SO sadly-for. perhaps,
her whole life long. Her young heart
what would its pain be to him, while he
followed his fancy, and said his low
meaningless words IN dainty earsp
He had said many low words to this
innocent child-words that had walked
her soul, and now her idolatry; but
now the amusement was past, and he
left no fraction of his heart with her.
If she allowed hers to go with him.
what was that but proof that they had
not talked folly when, in his set, they
called him irresistiblep
LAS final farewell"
The girl said his words over slowly,
incredulously; then, with hands locked
rigidly, and face as white rs marble
through all its tan, she leaned in silence
against the rocks. He watched her
curiously, lazy amusement in his eyes.
"She is proud enough for q duchess;
but she feels this parting very keenly."
he told himself, as the sun laid its last
kiss on the water before them-a kiss
which turned their sheen to crimson.
"You have never hesitated when l
asked you to sing" he said with soft
reproach in his low tones; ''why do you
do so nowp You have sung for me
often here just at this hour. Let me
hear your sweet voice again. Sing me
| that plaintive thing you love sO-that
farewell of the lord to the shepherdess,
whose beauty lid made him want her
for his bride. Egadr' with low
laugh, as he watched the sweet face
above him, lit will be almost an appro-
pirate parting-song. You are very love-
ly, child. But sing"
For three months she had but lived
to obey him, to minister to his selfish
ness, to amuse or interest him; il all
came back as she looked away from
him, and out to the foam-crests of the
sea; came back to both perhaps-tO her
with wordless pain, to him with idle
amusement.
,h<>rt cnh
ly from her lips; she clasped her two
brown hands together rigidly, and
obeyed him.
Lifting her fresh young voice she sent
it afar on the evening silence, free and
| unframed as the voice of bird. Pas
sionate pain-passionate protest against
| the fate that parted them, all the wild
hunger of her heart for the love that
| was going out of her life, were in the
clear pulsing notes as they left the
white lips of the girl. The rocks caught
them, and flung them back, over the
| sheen of the waters, where they fingered
like spirit-cries.
Something in the voice-something
! in the face of the singer-stirred Glynn
Harris's selfish heart as he lay on the
sands and listened. Some faint touch
of regret for his idle wooing of this in
nocent young heart stole TO him, and,
as she finished her song. he arose slow
ly to his feet.
The last note had died to silence far
| away on the broad bosom of the deep
The eyes of the girl seemed to follow it
/ as they strained over the waters, Gi-
lated, dark. despairing.
"She is very beautiful he told him.
self, as he had told himself so often
during that dead summertime.
Then, aloud:
Child, you sing Us sweetly as Ger
I man Lorelei. l never heard you sing
! like that"
She looked at him then, and faint
smile came about her lips, while she
shivered slightly.
ut was my farewell to you-to ALL"
she said softly; "when you 60 to your
world you will sometimes remember;
and L"
Again that slight shudder went over
her. and her slender figure wavered; she
nut up one brown hand and crushed It
hard against her bosom.
"Are you illr' he questioned, alarmed
at her pallor. -,
..No,h she said, still very softly; lit
i is not illness; it is DEATH"
With the word on her lips, she reeled
back against the rocks.
I He sprung forward and caught her
in his arms, startled out of his easy in
dolence by grey shadow that swept
over her face.
As he did so that shudder convulsed
her again, and a rushing stream Of
Icrlnson burst from her lips, flowing
over his hands, showing red and ghast-
lly ON the sands at his feet