Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1895-08-01

"Fool!" I shrek in his ear. ''Let me
20 to her; her lips pout for kisses; let
me 60"
Another man advances and seizes
me, he and the innkeeper force me
back on the pillows, they overcome me
and the utter incapacity of a terrible
exhaustion steals away my strength.
I cease to struggle. Pietro and his as
Sistant look down upon me.
"E mortow they whisper one to the
other
hear them and smile. Dead? Not
/. The scorching sunlight streams In
at the open door of the inn; the thirsty
flies buzz with persistent loudness;
some voices are singing LA Fata di
Amalti;" l can distinguish the words
"Chiagnaro la mia sventura
ST non tuorne chiu, Rosetta!
Tu di Amalfi la chiu bella
Tu ma Fata 81 pc me;
Viene, vie, regina mia.
Viene cure chistO core.
Ca non ce non ce no sciore
Non ce stella comm te"*
That is true song, Nina mia! "Non
ce stella comm tev' What did Guido
say? ''Purer than the aawless dia-
mond; unapproachable as the furthest
star" The foolish Pietro still polishes
his wine bottles. l see him; his meek
round face is greasy with heat and
dust; but cannot understand how he
comes to be here at all, for l am on
the banks of a tropical river where the
huge palms grow wild, and drowsy
alligators lie asleep in the sun. Their
large jaws are open; their small eyes
glitter greenly. A light boat glides
over the silent water; in it behold
the erect 1.-THE figure of an Indian.
His features are strangely similar to
those of Guido. He draws a long,
thin, shining blade of steel as he ap-
proaches. Brave fellow; he means to
attack single-handed the cruel Great
ures who lie in wait for him on the
sultry shore. He springs to land.
watch him with weird fascination.
He passes the alligators; he seems not
to be aware Of their presence; he
comes with swift, unhesitating step
to me; it is I whom he seeks; it is in
my heart that he plunges the cold
oICCA uoSSCA, uhu u1d - ~ Jul al5lAAy
dripping with blood! Once, twice,
and moan in bitter anguish. Then
something dark comes between me
end the glazing sun; something cool
and shadowy, against which 1 fling
myself despairingly. Two dark eyes
look steadily into mine, and voice
speaks:
"Be calm, my son, be calm. Com
mend myself to Christ"
1t is my friend, the monk. I recog-
nize him gladly. He has returned
from his errand of mercy. Though I
can scarcely speak, hear myself ask
ing the news Of the boy. The holy
man crosses himself devoutly.
May his young soul rest in peace!
found him dead"
l am dreamily astonished at this.
Dead-so soon? I cannot understand
it; and drift off again into state of
confused imaginings. AS I look back
now to that time, find 1 have no
specially distinct recollection of what
afterward happened to me. 1 know
suffered intense, intolera BILE pain; that
1 was literally tortured on rack of
excruciating anguish and that through
all the delirium Of my senses heard
a muft1ed, melancholy sound like a
chant or prayer. 1 have an idea that
also heard the tinkle of the bell that
accompanies the host, but my brain
reeled more wildly with each moment.
and l cannot be certain of this. 1 re-
member shrieking out after what
seemed an eternity of pain, "Not to
the villa! no, no, not there! You shall
not take me: my curse on him who
'disobeys me-"
L remember then fearful sensation.
as OF being dragged into a deep whirl-
pool, from whence I stretched up an
pealing hands and eyes to the monk
who stood above me. I caught a
drowning glimpse of silver crucifix
glittering before my gaze, and at last.
with one loud cry for help, I sank
down, down into an abyss of black
night and nothingness!