The Sunday morning news. [volume] (Jersey City [N.J.]) 1886-1891, 1890-04-27

* Tale of the French ana Spanish War
fare IN the Gulf Of Mexico.
by MAURICE T1oMPsoN.
(coPYRlGHT--ALL RIGHTS REsERvED.l

mind. Still it is true that, to the large
majority of readers, these personal incl
dents these bits Of romance that form
the neglected fringe of history, are the
very parts of the past which are most
interesting. Pauline de la Chasies ex-
perience certainly may claim the atten-
ton of this liberal majority. 1t was a
great undertaking in those days for a
young girl not yet 10 to set sail with
crew of soldier seamen to go from
france to America, yet this girl did it,
Is is well attested by records not to be
disputed
After along voyage, during which the
vessel encountered many storms, and
was blown far southwark of its proper
course, it must have been almost UNI
bearable, even to the rough crew, to ses
powerful Spanish vessel bearing down
upon them just at a time when the end
Of all their desires seemed almost in
sight; but to poor Pauline dc la Chasie
it was like plunging into the black pit of
utter despair. The shock struck ler
with the force Of a thousand deaths, and
yet she lived. In hearts like hers, so
long as life remains, there q loyalty of
the most precious sog.. and there is
faith, which, though { ray not give
strength. affords a courage that meets
everything with silent endurance. Pau
line had already gone through expert
ences sufficient to have broken the will
of almost any woman; but she loved
Louis Doucet, and her love was strong
enough to bear her up, even in the
dreadful moment when the sea was
ready to swallow her, and it sustained
her in the still more trying scenes which
followed her rescue.
The Spanish vessel, after its victory
over its French foe, Immediately put
into Pensacola, which was then the
stronghold of the Spaniards in Florida.
Pauline, more dead than alive, was taken
by Cortes to the house of his friend, Don
Alphonso de Salcedo, the wealthiest citi-
zen of the place, where she was cared
for most tenderly by Don Alphonso's
wife, who, childless herself, felt at once
a mothers sympathy for this fragile and
beautiful girl brought to her out of the
sea.
For nearly month Pauline was very
i'll, and as there was no competent ply
stefan in the place it was good nursing,
aided by nature possessed of great
vital energy, that brought her back at
last to safe convalescence and to full
sense of the terrible trial through which
she had passed. Then came the realiza-
ton of what to her was worse than
death-the fact that she had failed to
reach Mobile, failed to find her waiting
lover, and that instead of communicating
her one all absorbing desire she had lost
everything by falling into the hands of
her country's enemies, against whom
Louis Doucet was proudly bearing arms.
She found herself in strangely APP
pointed room, where the rudest work.
manship in walls and floor was contrast
ed with pieces of furniture whose carv-
ing and cushions attested the most cum
ming and costly art of the old world.
The couch upon which she lay was
marvel Of luxury, while the window
through which she looked out upon the
beautiful, dreamy bay was no more than
a square hole through the wall of rough
pine logs. Evidently Don Alphonso was
making his life at Pensacola one of far
less hardship than might have been
looked for in that wild little village, SO
long the rendezvous for corsair and buc-
cancer in the days when all the world
was against Spain From her delicately
perfumed pillow Pauline could see some
piratical looking vessels at anchor in the
harbor, and she could hear the confused
noises of a busy garrison, intent upon
completing some Notifications, not far
away
The breath of the early tropic summer
strayed in, bearing the rich fragrance of
roses and the fine aroma of the blooming
acacia trees. Awaking as from long
dream. Pauline's first thought, after the
sudden confusion of recollections had
subsidized, was that of resuming her jour
ney toward her lover; but soon enough
the impossibility of such a thing rushed
upon her mind with such force that with
piteous moan she sank again into a
state of Inconsistencies. at that sound
a dark little woman, quite past the prime
of life and wrinlzled enough to have
been 80, came from behind a curtain
which covered a narrow doorway, and
hurried with soft, swift footballs to the
bedside. With singularly kind and
gentle expression she peered into the
girls face, touched her pale forehead
with her thin, sallow fingers, softly adj
justed the rich coverings of the couch,
smoothed the pillows and then, with a
catlike noiseless motion, slipped into
chair close by and assumed an attitude
of expectant, solicitous watchfulness.
Although she was the wife of Don Al
phonso, her face was Frenchin all its feat
ures; and when at last Pauline returned
again to consciousness it was the sweet
accent Of Provence that came to her ear.
Dear little mademoiselle, it muir
INJURED tenderly, ''do you feel better
now?"
A soft hand brushed with a cooling
touch across her cheek and temple.
Pauline lifted her heavy lids to look
into those deep set, insistent eyes that
hung over her SO inquiringly. The voice
was soothing in a way and the hand was
SO motherly and comforting to one who,
an orphan from childhood. was now so