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

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with eyes whose deep and tender purity
sent thrill Of inexpressible pity through
him, .sand I feel that / can trust you. Oh,
sir, will you not help me to reach Mobile?
/ have no one to turn to but you. It was
you who saved me from the terrible dam
ger, the horrible death in the sea; save
me now from this life which is worse
than a thousand deaths and take me to
my dear-to my friends at Mobile
It hard for Capt. Cortes to say
what he had to say but there was no
honorable course for him to pursue, save
that of perfect frankness. He felt Keen
ly his own situation, while his chival-
rous nature burned with deep and
strange sympathy for the sweet, brave
invalid before him. 1t abashed him to
think that he had been nursing tender
dreams in connection with this beautiful
being whom he had snatched from the
tunbling waves of the gulf. Now that
he knew her history AID understood her
desire be saw how fruitless and how I'M
manly as well would be any further
thought of claiming Pauline's love;
moreover, it seemed to him the very re-
finement of misfortune that he must ac-
knowledge his inability to aid her as she
desired.
81 should be glad and proud to do
what you ask, he said with sort of
soldierly bluntness in his voice and man
ner, s'bllt it is utterly impossible. The
French do not respect US, nor we them.
There can be no exchange of courtesies
between us; SO you see how my hands
are tied in the matter"
Pauline clasped her hands and great
tears dropped down her cheeks. Cortes
saw her bitter disappointment with a
sense of something like contempt for
himself on account of his powerless con-
dition.
"Believe me, mademoiselle," he ex-
claimed with sudden fervor, 81 would
gladly give you my life to serve you
even in the least degree
81 believe you, sir, and l thank you
from the bottom of my heart. You are
nobly generous But is there indeed no
way2 Must choose between death and
the acceptance of this life now afforded
to meg'
Something in her tone and manner
sent a shock through the young mans
breast. Within the past few minutes
there had come upon him the sweet, rich
and yet saddening experience of love and
loss. Before him sat the fairest and love-
lest apparition that had ever blessed his
vision. In his heart she had set the
fountains of spring to flowing song
and the bloom to gushing. The old, old
story of the sudden coming of passion
and the sudden realization of its hope
lessness had been told once more between
the soft pulses of the sub-tropic breeze.
He bowed lis head until his dark fore
head touched the plume of his hat which
rested on his knee. For one moment he
gave way to selfishness, and the thought
swept through his mind that he might
have his own way with fate.
II am sorry to have panied you said
Pauline presently. II owe my life to
you and fear that have appeared un-
grateful. Pray forgive me-"
Her words sounded to him like the re-
buke of an angel. He looked up and
said, as if in self defense:
ssYou owe me nothing but execration.
It was I who sunk the vessel which was
bearing you to your lover. 1t was 1
who deprived you of more than life.
Oil Mademoiselle, mademoiselle''- He
checked himself with great effort and
rising stood before her quite calm but
pale, his eyes burning almost .fercely,
his sunburnt cheeks showing the lines of
suppressed but almost oyerpowering emo
ton.
.sYoudid but your duty. have thought
all about it," she said, and / do not
blame you for it; but I am no prisoner
of war, being nothing but a poor girl
whom fate has cast into your hands;
wherefore it seems to me that you might
let me go in all honor"
II would not hold you one moment"
he exclaimed quickly. "You are as free
as am; but there is no possible way for
you to pass from her to Mobile. The
thought is utterly tntenable-the thing
is impossible and not to be dreamed of. /"
No interview ever was more depressing
and unsatisfactory to the parties holding
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at least for the present, and she lay upon
her couch disheartened and purposeless.
Cortes went away thoroughly wretched
and at war with himself. He was in love
with Pauline; his warm, arrogant Span
ish nature had broken the bounds at once
and now there was no limit to the passion
that possessed him; but his chiyalrous
sense of honor, though overwhelmed, was
immovable. The impression haunted him
that, for the reason that Pauline was in
his power, he ought to freq her, and be-
cause of his love for her he ought to re-
store her to her lover. 1t was well to
harbor these sentiments, but what lover
could act upon them?
Days and weeks passed by, during
which Cortes brooded over the situation.
Now and againhe resolved that he would
attempt to send Pauline to Mobile by some
method, but as often he remembered
his duty as soldier. The French at
Mobile were the very incarnation of all
that was hated by the Spaniards at Pen
sacola, and to do any kind act for one of
them was repugnant to every pulse in
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