The Press., 1889-10-24
THE RANSOM.

sped lightly as birds might skim the azure or 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 Caesars, and on them paced the restless watchers whose monoto nous cries told the hours of the nigtt in con cert with the tongues of monastery bells.
 The ostline 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 sainted bishop of 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 Bathilde. She was widow who had ne'er been 8 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 angels wing. Her skin was white as the petals of the lily flower.
 Her eyes were deep; changeful as twilights in autumn. -Av,ao <3 white and slender, and wound about with strings of gold, clasped by single amethyst. Her hair was like copper threads in the sum | ight-like brown seaweed in the shade, but soft to the touch as Is the fur of the wild l 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 l their hearts they cursed her. --sac~E But she cared not at all In the radiant | pride of her beauty she was like pagan eril- l press and she scarce bowed her naughty | head at the elevation of the Host. The priest swung the sacred chaliee 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:
 1 s'Of what should accuse myselff" And the angels wept in heaven, and ever the good and just God saw that she must be humbled.
 It was yet the time of the harvest, and tho autumn sunset lay warm on the granite hills when there came knocking at the gates and sound of many horses hoofs and the voice. of men.
 Foulques the Beautiful asked shelter fo, the night from the Lady of Pierreluce
 Foulques the Beautiful was tall of statur. and fair of face His head was the mockinl head of Bacchus, and his lips were red as ii stained by the juice of the grape. His hail lay on his brow like rings of gold, and ther, was that in his eye which no woman coule withstand.
 From window in the tower Bathild' looked down on the guest at her donjo1 gates.
 From the donjon gates Foulques the Beau tiful looked up at Bathilde in the window O the tower.
 And it was as if she were held by chains and the heart which she had never felt be fore to beat rose in great throbs of ecstasy and she placed her two hands at her whit throat and felt the beating there.
 And Foulques the Beautiful smiled, an, Bathilde sent down her servitors to open tn
  them welcome in the name of the Lady o Pierreluce
 And all the splendors of the castle wer shown him and the magnifcence of his enter tainment surpassed that which would hay been offered to king or pope.
 And Bathilde laid aside her robes of mourn ing and attiEed herself in garments of white and put on her girdle gittering with pre cious stones and unbound her hair, that might fall its length to her white feet, an i went down and stood before Foulques tn Beautiful
 I He gazed on her and loved her even as sh loved him. And he saw Ter only as the w man, humble in her love, for she served ahiI and listened to him and, when he spoke. mad answer as she thought would please him. l Day by day with her beauty she wooe him from the wars toward which he joul neyed
 l Day by day helingered and thought onlys her eyes.
 But still he said no word of love to hel knowing well it was his duty to go on. Fc to the soldier duty comes first and love comt ! after.
 At last.she went and stood before him==sl that had been so proud. In her humility, sf cast down her eyes and sank upon her kne and stretched out her hands to him implo E mBiy anu sselos
 sLeave. me not-I love theein And he lifted her in his arms and kisse her lips.
 ' And Foulques the Beautiful and the Lad of Pierreluce were betrothed. W
 The white robed friars of the chapel b sought Bathilde to bow her head and ben E her knee and give thanks to heaven for ht \ great happiness But she opened wide sht E scornful eyes and held her naughty head 4th higher and made answer:
 "Now care naught for God and his angel for have indeed found my paradise" x And the angels wept again in heaven, an the just God saw that she had not been su E fciently humbled.
 But the followers of FoMques the Beaut ful chafed at the delay. And massengel came to the Castle of Pierreluce.to seek hin and they brought him tidings of the terrib wars waged by the infidels in Provenc | Thes told him of the wives and daughts