The L'Anse sentinel. (L'Anse, L.S., Mich.) 18??-current, 1901-03-30

1Our ialtn ana your love are strong
and sincere. Receive back your sight,"
Immediately the light broke upon
this youths vision, and he saw be-
fore him, not d man dressed in the
black habit of monk, but a being
of another world, clad in the glitter
ing raiment of the blessed.
Return at once to SPAIN" said the
angel, "for your presence Is needed
there. The country is overrun by the
Moors, and Don Giovanni d'Aquila is
besieged and kept shut up within his
castle. NFear not, for in your journey
ing andin all that you do l shall be
near you as your guardian"
With that the angel disappeared,
vanishing as the mist sometimes van
ishes before the sun, for even as
Juan's eyes rested on the messenger
he was gone.
The young man fastened to set Out
upon his homeward journey, and
doubtless impotence lent wings to his
footsteps, for he accomplished it more
quickly and easily than before, and
with delight reached the Pyrenees.
thinking how short was the remaining
distance to the castle.
But the mountains were thronged
by peasants flying before the victo-
torious Moors, and they flocked to
Juan's standard, urged by some un-
known influence which they found
irresistible. Forming an army, there
fore, of these fugitives, the young
man made straight for the castle of
d'Aquila, happy and hopeful in the
prospect of aiding that good friend
and benefactor, and of rescuing Gil
nevra.
An army of Moors, amazed by his
audacity, fell upon him and his fol-
lowers, and terrible combat ensued;
but, though the numbers of his enc
my greatly exceeded his own, Juan
routed them completely, so thaG they
fed in all directions. For, fighting
at His side, with flaming eyes and q
sword of fire in his hand, the Moors
saw-though Juan and his men did
not-the figure of terrible angel
habited in the somber garment of a
monk.
Fear not, will be with you"
Those words seemed ever ringing like
sweetest music in Juan's ears, urging
him to ride on in pursuit of the flying
foe, scattering them as withered
leaves are scattered by the blasts of
autumn. So, exactly one year from
the day when he had parted from Gil
nevra and the house of his childhood,
he pitched his tent before the castle
walls at the head of a victorious army.
Don Giovanni, although wounded
and confined to his couch, had wit
messed the conflict from window in
the tower. He had not, however, rec
ognized in that ardent young warrior
his youthful vassal, so that, rising
upon his pillows to receive and thank
his delivered, he believed him n
stranger, until cry escaped the lips
of Ginevra, who was by his side.
A strange radiance had begun to
creep into her eyes as this blood
stained pilgrim uttered her name.
1T is Juan!" she exclaimed. "Juan!
l can see! Our prayers are answered."
and she sprang forward to meet his
embrace.
"She is yours, JUAN. and you have
won her nobly," said Don Giovanni,
when he had listened to the young
mans narrative concerning his jour
ney to the shrine and the petition he
had been granted there. "You have
indeed brought my daughter the
greatest gift that could be hers in
this world. May you be as happy
with her as you have rendered her
happy"
Upon the following day Juen and
Ginevra were married in the chapel
of the castle. where they had listened
year before to those words, "What-
soever We shall ask of the Father in My
name, He will give you," which had
inspired the young man with such a
noble faith and courage.