The Wilmington daily Republican. (Wilmington, Del.) 1890-1902, 1897-03-10
ALL FOR LOVE. !.

T3as ~ -------~
A grave faced, broad shouldered young
Englishman was pacing the deck Of en AZ
lantic liner bound for New York.
He was big and prosperous looking
Perhaps the heavy chinchilla overcOat with
high collar turned up about his ears to
protect him from the stiff, salt scented
breeze lent him this air of prosperity His
blue eyes looked out steadfastly, little
sternly maybe, at the empty deck and the
gray waste Of waters. The other passen-
gers were singing and dancing In the cab
in, but George Reynolds found the society
of the lowering sky and the lonely stretch
of waters moro to his taste
The tinkle of musical instrument fell
upon his ear. Was it the piano in the cab
in speeding tho feet Of the dhncersp Not
that. The sound was wild and plaintive
and in keeping with the storm threatening
day. The Englshman followed the strange
music to its source. Down among the
steerage passengers young girl was
drumming broken tamhourine hedeck.
cd with soied ribbons. She sat little
apart from the rest, her head bent over the
instrument, which sobbed and sang alter.
nately beneath her touch.
A bent, witchlike crone saw the atten.
tive attitude of the English intruder
"Play something gay for the gentleman,
Felico," she whispered.
The girl lifted I'm oval face of dark per.
fection, Swept a laughing glance from her
slumbrous black eyes ct the young man,
and the wailing strain changed to bar
barrie song Of adventure and prowess, of
beauty and love. She sang, too, in low,
subtle voice with weird notes in 1t. The
Englishman did not understand the words,
but the mystic language of youth and hope
and waiting love was tantalizingly intel
ligible
He looked long at the dark, birdlike
head the slim, nervous, brown fingers, the
tawdry gypsy flnery and listened to the
velyety contralto voice He was drunk with
rapture.
"Ahl But you do not know the Ian.
guage OF the hills and the rivers and the
woods Come with me and learn them,
my own. The smoke of this great city sti.
flcs-me Its roar makes me deaf.
"At night, when you sleep, push aside
the curtains that may sec the moon, and
she talks to me mystcriously, and / think
] am in camp in the mountain road
where smell the pine trees and where the
falling strcnrl sings to me: Oh, dear ene,
l must go or fdie"
George Reynolds listened sadly to the
words of his gypsy wife. He had married
her when they reached New York. They
lived in pretty suburban cottage, and he
was engaged IN IA small but thriving bust
ness in the city His dream of wife and
home had been realized. That of a compe-
tency had almost taken form. The gypsy
girl was affcctionate. She was true, but
the barbarous instincts of her ancestors
could not be wholly crushed.
Gifts apa carcFscs no longer diverted
her. She Wcpt On lis shoulders each even.
ing when he came home She craScd the
wild freedom of her sirlhood life. She
could not live without it,
"9ou arc used to the factory, and the
shop, and the crowded street." she said,
but they kill me Imust go, but will not
you go, too, my hllshand?'
He lifted her arms gently from about
his neck and went ont into the street. For
hours he walked about aimlcssly He
could not restrain her longing for her old
wandering life. He might be cruel Jail
er, but then she would learn to hate him.
1t would be worse than death to see her
turn from him in fear. But the business
and the homo! All the instincts of his
conservative ancestors in trade rose in re
bellion against giving them up. When he
unlocked the door and stepped into the
little rarlor, he had not decided
His wife had thrown herself upon the |
sofa in passion of tears Chldlkc, she
had cried herself to sleep. She sighed and
her lips tremblod us her sturdy, troubled |
husband looked down upon her.
The struggle was over.
He kissed her forehead.
Il will give up all for you, Felice," he
said.
"The gypsy king is dead" said the
jewellers in south Sun Francisco to each
other, and they went TO the camp to view
the remains.
He lay in u coffin that looked strangely
out of place in the small tent. 1t was as
elegant as that in which the rich factory
owner had been buried the week before.
His features were calm and strong, and
his limbs must have been very powerful
in life. His gray hair had still some gold.
IN threads in ii. His skin was us fair as
IN Infants. He Is white man." whis-
}cTed tic curiosity seekers and stole away
% gossip about 1t.
A small, dark woman, pretty still, al
hough past her prime, wert broken heart
IDLY over the coffin. Come away, mother
'ou must rest" said n tall young man
Who stood beside her. "He has blue eyes"
Il girl who WINS rccping into the
cnt. Whoever heard Of Il blue eyed
gypsy"
The funeral service was read next day
~ an Episcopal Clergyman in robes.
George Reynolds was an honest man."
70 said, "a devoted husband and father."
1t was true. Was his sacrifice too great?
Is the motto, IAN for love and the world
veil lost, " more ignoble than ''All for the
world and love well lostF
The dead mans face was very strong
nd very peaceful Patterson in St.
,nuig Rpuublir