The daily morning journal and courier., 1894-07-28
olasped in the arms Of one who truly


 eiasped in the arms of one who truly lovedv'
 In such nature wilds. with such wild natures-the one banned by law. the other plunging madly until now toward the laws ban-an hour or q day is as years to other humankind. Marcos intensity of longing for hu- man companionship and the measure less idolization on the part Of the maid en. brought the herds and the hearts together on Monte Rotondo's heights: brought the lives, so strangely met. into compassionate and loving unity.
 The couch of Agnese was spread with in the inner cavern; that of Marco. be- side his gun at the open door. If dan ger menaoed by day or night, they stood sentinel behind the rocks together: and together they led their herd into wilder and wilder canons or climbed with it to dizziest heights above.
 Though the herdsmen at the craggy station below. missing the voice which once seemed to pour forth from the mountain top exultant liquid melodies alike for banned and free. now shrugged their shoulders and muttered The gun of the sbirri has stilled 1t at last" 1t was not lost. It only sank Into the lower tenderer cadences of love.
 Marco sung to and for Agnese alone Ecstatically precious as was this dalli- ance to her simple end untutored soul the very passion which fed ravenously of It's flsst fair feast of light and love. awakened also the bitterest bangs of womanly regret; for to woman, love comes with supreme victory when with 1t are the shining laurels of admiration and of pride.
 "Ah, l am murderer at heartw she would moan upon her couch in the still ness of the night. "He would loathe me. could he see It's blackness of the past. Has he not said: Until forgive, until I remove the ban of the slayer, am not fit to be clasped in the arms of him who truly loves?"
 At last. moved by this great agony. she arose in the darkness and was gone.
 Corsican homes still resound with praises of the wild. skln-clad thing from the mountains who came to Luc- ciana, Bastia, and at last to Ajaccio, and pleaded for pardon of the slayer of Fabiano, her father; pleaded desperate ly until the parish pleaded with the canton. the canton with the commune, the commune with the department council and prefect and these with the president of France himself.
 To all inquirers she would dazedly and pitifully answer: "He is little and dark and speaks hoarsely and uncouth- ly. He wears cubes of gold in his ears, and walks widely. like the tailors of Bastia. He is called Batista Caste, am told. He was the slayer of my fath- CT. l forgive. And shall not Corsica also forgive?"
 Thus ever and ceaselessly until the people and the council had forced the unwilling pardon from the Elysee it. self Then, wan, emaciated, the wrath of her former self, she sped to Marco who. with the last link between him and life broken by her mysterious flight. had sat mute and songless among the goats, and spreading the priceless paper before his eyes, cried out:
 Ecco!-ecco! My fathers slayer is pardoned! Is thy Agnese now worthy of lover"
 Holy. Virgin! Agnese, 1t is who must crave forgiveness now! For I am he-Rati Casto--who struck the ia. tai blow!'' iu ." .-~
 With the smile of saint in her hag- gard face. she received him in her arms.
 The news had spread over the island to the very shores of the encircling sea. As Batista and Agnese descended the mountain together. "Evvivas!" from the lips of herdsmsn and bandits, made daring by the thrill which ran from valley to mountain, burst upon them as a blessing from every glen and crag. Men from Lucciana and men from Bor- go, embracing as they came, met them where the golden rain of autumn chest nuts was falling in the sunlight of the upper valleys; and as they stood to- gether upon the shoulders of the multi tude which carried them through Bor.. go to the little market-place of Luccia- ma. hosts who joined them in the loud i,uzzas still remember how they gazed upon this triumph of love through binding and joyous tears.