The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1893-08-06

contemplation OF tNc silent watcher,
small and old, but majestic and beautiful
none the less.
Passing down the street short dis
lance, I stopped Hamer before what
seemed to be- the high wooden wall Of an
extensive garden. But the boarding had
been placed behind a handsome and in
tricately worked iron fence. now rusty
and old, while the tan iron gate. also bar
ricaded, stood upbcyOnd the traccry Of the
fence. Just ut the corner, where a side
street ran down, small wooden door
stood ajar, seemingly 10 invite to an in
discreet scrutiny. The ncighbOrhood was
deserted and in this old part Of town no
electric light stood near Gently pushing
open the door, babe Hamer look in A
wealth of rare and exquisite plants and
flowers, admirably cared for. spread be-
fore us, while here and there, in Moresque
style, shadowy fountains threw their
slender sprays upward which shimmered
in the moonlight, and q tropical wealth
and splendor of coloring was on all sides
why, man, this is gorgeous said
Hamer, growing quite Latin in hts I'M
puritanic exurberance Of enthusiasm
After long look I drew him away, and
closing the shabby door, he paced back
and forth under the Frightening light of
the moon, while 1 told him the few shreds
and scraps of the story of that mysteri-
left in Pepe Llulla's cemetery
The stately house now closed with
heavy shutters, back of the gorgeous gar
den was her home There her childhood,
serene and luxurious, had been passed
Her parents came from Spain, and were
thought to be political refugees. although
the retention of their wealth would seem
to disproVe that theory. But some old
Spanish Creoles, familiar with their Law
Il
by them, said their riches came from
the West Indies, and assured that
they belonged to the old nobility of
Spain, but had been implicated in an
attempted Cuban revolt. Their oXaCt
name was never revealed She was an
only child, and very beautiful AT six
teen, when on the verge of womanhood,
the tragedy of her life began. Who he
was no one in New Orleans ever learned
Handsome and reckless, also of Spanish
origin, adventurer or gentlemen, who
may SAVE He paid heavy forfeiture for
his short lived bliss, and if error, re-
deemed it with his life blood, for long has
he slept in yonder cemetery. He had
spent but a few brief months in this city
when, one soft summer night he passed
through the small gate you Just saw,
taking with him the beautiful young girl
They were never seen here together again.
No effort seemed to be made for her re-
cOVery, and an OminOus silence settled
| and a vindictive Spanish temper can ac-
complish much evil when allied together
June rolled on, and II began to be wills
pered as coming from a gardener living
near by, that an awful tragedy had oc-
| CURED one night in the fencing hall of tho
great house, and that at day dawn a man
had been buried in the open square,
where now stands Pope Llulla's Gene
terry This gardener told shudderingly
of the return at midnight of a party of
gentlemen accompanied by the beautiful
daughter and the young Spaniard He
reCounted that going 10 get some forgot
ten tools he had heard the muflled sounds
of a combat in the hall which stood far
back in the garden Peering through the
chiuk of closed shutter he had wit
messed prolonged and fearful fight, first
with the father, who was wounded, then
with another, while the young man
himself was bleeding from sword
thrust He told how the beauti-
full woman, rushing forward
to protect the stranger, threw out her
left arm, and her hand had accidentally
been severed by a blow from the keen
blade of the broadsword. Painting, she
had not seen the life blood of the hand
some stranger as it ran down the flooring
and trickled out on the white sands of the
garden path. This tale, told while he was
i'll, was afberward strenously denied by
the gardener when officially Intercepted.
So the mystery was never investigated or
solved. The unfortunate young woman
was believed never to have returned, and
to be living in Spain with relatives. The
house was then closed, as you see it to-
day, and the countess, as she was
called, died suddenly, some said Of grief.
The count went back to Cuba.
Years later, the pale woman you saw
came back and took up her abode in the
sombre and deserted house. She was
accompanied by an old Spanish servant
and his wife. That she commands much
wealth is evidenced by her lavish chart
ties. She goes nowhere, not even to
church, which is strange, for Spanish
women are usually most devotional In
deed, ! am told that the sight of a Sister
of Charity or nun in her religious robes
will throw her into a state of wild and
passionate excitement fearful to witness,
and the Mother Superior of some ASYLUM,
anxious TO obtain nelp from the surplus
wealth of this eccentric recluse, ventured
into her presence. She was driven away
by a storm of passionate reproaehes, all
hurled at her in Spanish, and the fiery
words were accentuated by display of
the deep purple scar on her wrist.
w lltu tIlG evenings dEt IdlG YOU Will al
ways see the silver-haired Spanish wo-
man, patrician and old, keeping her silent
vigil far into the night by the nameless
mound in Pope Llulla's graveyard. And
| have often wished that memorable time
would hasten his steps, TO relieve that
pale and beautiful martyr from her lonely
watch.
We had again reached the gateway of
the cemetery, and paused to look through.
The broadening rays of the moon fell full
over the silent sleepers, and the dews of
night had accumulated the sweet odors of
the Spanish jasmine and the rose. Pac-
ing back and forth, the solitary figure
passed sad and slow. Suddenly she stood
still, and remained for some time motion
less; then raising 10 heaven her MANNED
arm, bereft of fits slender hand, she ut
tered aloud, with sobs and tears, some
dire imprecatiOns, which we failed to dis
tinRuish, but which were wrung by SOM
bre despair from her utter desolation.
This is awful - said Hamer, disturbed
and pale, as we passed on Il don't think
I'll send this story 10 Parker 1t would
seem too much like Dissertation. To throw
open to the public gaze such a terrible
tragedy and let every one speculate as to
the heart-rending sorrows of that poor
desolate martyr, why / just couldn't do
it. I'm half in love with that white-hair-
ed. sorrQwful woman. She's perfectly
beautiful! What magnificent eyes and
that poor little mateless hand Men are
miserable brutes,r whispered Hamer,
stopping agitatedly to light another cigar