Wichita eagle., 1889-08-09
THE RANSOM.

An old Latin city slumbered by the blue
waters of gulf over whose bosom the waves
sped lightly as birds might skim the azure of
a cloudless summer sky. The mountains
reared proud heads, still crowned by marble
temples half demolished, which seemed to
gaze at their quivering reflection in the blue
mirror at their feet.
The great walls of the city still bore the
victorious mark of the CasSrs, and on them
paced the restless watchers whose monoto-
nous cries told the hours of the night in con-
cert with the tongues of monastery bells
The outline Of great aqueducts cut sharply
across the horizon. Triumphal arches and
rostral columns emerged from the thick
foliage Of trees whose shadows had lain for
centuries upon them. The homes of the poor,
the palaces of priests and ministers, vast halls
and ruined temples cast their strange and
varied silhouettes upon the fathomless blue
of the Latin sky and fretted the horizon like
the lace mantle Of some Titaness.
When the gods reigned, the city was known
as the city Of Aphrodite.' Now she bore the
name of a sainted bishopof the true church.
Above her walls rose the olive woods, and
higher still the forests of pines somber and
mysterious, and fast against the granite hills
beyond, into the infinite ether, where the
eagle spreads his mighty wings, pointed the
nine towers of the castle of Pierreluce.
Here dwelt the virgin Bathide.
She was a widow who had ne'er been q
wife Her lord called forth to single handed
combat on their marriage eve, had gone
never to return, and with the chaste kiss of
parting ON her brow, she was like a fruit Of
Paradise, with bloom untouched save by the
swift passing of an angeTs wing.
Her skin was white as the petals of the lily
flower.
Her eyes were deep; changeful as twilights
in autumn.
Her throat was an ivory column-fine and
white and slender and wound about with
strings of gold, clasped by a single amethyst
Her hair was like copper threads in the sun
light-like brown seaweed in the shade, but
soft to the touch as is the fur of the wild
beast.
She loved no one.
She was as cold as the marble gods and her
heart was of ice. And her people hated and
feared her, for she was wicked and cruel; in
their hearts they cursed her,
But she cared not at all. In the radiant
pride of her beauty she was like pagan en-
| press and she scarce bowed her naughty
ue9il dU luS cteNdGOu VI IIo llcSt. llo
priest swung the sacred chalice before her
beautiful eyes-wide opened and scornful-
and when the white robed friars in the DON
jon chapel besought her to kneel with the
faithful at confession, she made answer
proudly:
| 'Of what should / accuse myselfp
And the angels wept in heaven, and even
the good and Just God saw that she must be
humbled
1t was vet the time of the harvest, and the
| autumn sunset lay warm on the granite hills,
when there came knocking at the gates and
a sound of many horses hoofs and the voices
of men.
Foulaues the Beautiful asked shelter for
the night from the Lady of Pierreluce
Foulques the Beautiful was tall of stature
and fair of face His head was the hooking
head Of Bscchus, and his lips were red if
stained by the juice of the grape. His hair
| Law on his brow like rings of gold, and there
was that in his eye which no woman could
withstand
| From a window in the tower Bathilde
| looked down on tho guest at her 0onjon
| gates.
From the donion gates Foulques the Beau
! tiful looked up at Bathilde in the window of
! the tower.
And it was as if she were held by chains,
and the heart which she had never felt be-
| fore 10 beat rose in great throbs OF ecstasy,
and she placed her two hands at her white
throat and felt the beating there.
And FoulQues the Beautiful smiled and
Rathilde sent down her servitors 70 open the
| castle TO him and to his followers, and TO bid
| them welcome in the name of the Lady of
| Pierreluce.
| And all the splendors of the castle were
shown him and the magniicence of his enter
| tainment surpassed that which would have
| been offered 10 king or pope.
| And Bachilde laid aside her robes of mourn
| ing and attired herself in garments of white,
and put on her girdle giitter1ng with pre-
! cious stones and unbound her hair, that 1t
might fan its length TO her white feet, and
| Went down and stood before FoulQues the
/ Beautiful
! He eazei on her and loved her even as she
| loved HIM. And he saw her only as the wo-
man, humble in her love. for she served him
and listened 10 him and. when ne spoke, made
answer as she thought would please him
! Day BY day with her beauty she wooed
| him from the wars toward which he jour
neyed
Day by day he fingered and thought only of
| her eyes
But still be said no word Of love 70 her.
knowing well ii was his duty to 60 on For
| TO the soldier duty comes first aud love comes
! after.
AT last she went and stood before him-shs
/ that had been 50 proud In her humility, she
cast down her eyes and sank upon her knees
and stretched out her hands 70 him inplor-
ingly and said:
Leave me mott love thee!H
And he lifted her in his arms and kissed
| her lips
And Foulques the Beautiful and the Lady
Of Pierreluce were betrothed.
The white robed friars of the chapel be-
| sought Bathilde TO bow her head and bend
! her knee aud give thanks 10 heaven for her
great happiness. But she opened wide her
scornfui eyes and held her naughty head the
higher aud made AaSwer: