The Montgomery advertiser., 1904-05-08

her to accompany him. if only for a few minutes. to some place where he could produce in clay the sparkle of her glance and the light breath of her lips. Day after day he waited for her, but the sun sank to rest every. evening. sometimes drowned in pallid haze and mist. at other times starred with dazzling gems. But she, the woman who alone could put an end to his suffering, did not return. Oh! could 1t be possible that he was never to gain this prize which . few evenings ago was almost within his grasp and the ineffable charm of which continually haunted him? Was he. the potters son, destined to open his arms in vain to the end of his life and to see all his cherish ed hopes one by one turn to dust and ashes? Was he too ambitious7 Was he dreaming of the unattainablef
 After all. would it not be better to let his genius have play in varying works, as other artists did. than to concentrate all his efforts on one masterpiecef What had Florence. which he had loved so well and which he still loved with all his heart and soul, given him In return for his broken heart and his crucffled brain? He looked down at the city. so moving. so feline, and saw how the twilight was beginning to cover it as with a shroud. Hard though he had tried to take posses HlOn CI tuib HPtcuufu NAtFs E0inC oL AtS beauty had always escaped him, and now at last he despaired of ever being able to appropriate aii her charms. He even feared that. though the desired op- portunity might present itself. he would not have sufficient energy to carry out his cherished Idea f
 Winter came on, and he became more melancholy. One morning in January 'ffe decided to return to his old home on the hiii.- for. since he could not be great artist, all that remained for him to do was to work at his trade. as his father had worked. and to fashion ugly and clumsy things, with which, neverthe- less. he could mingle something of his dream.
 This decision taken. he became resign ed. Still, at the thought that his ambf- tion was in vain fe suffered bitterly at times as a man suffers who bears scar which from time to time recalls the gory vision of the thrusting spear. Do what he would he could not help grfeving over the loss of the prantom which had wreck ed his life. Two pictures were constant ly before him. the city, which he had studied so long and so earnestly. and the woman whom he had only seen for a. moment. He did not know which of the two he preferred or which of them would continue to torture him, since they form ed only one beautiful. luminous vision, heinz blended in the same manner as rays of light from various points are freuuently blended at the approach of darkness He could not think of one without thinking of the other; each pos- sessed for him the same soul. the same mysterious attraction. And at the thought that he had lost them forever he grieved bitterly.
 Ga dreary. Now he never looked toward that spot in the distance which was crowned by the stately cupolas of Flor ence, that lovely and deceitfui city which reclined on waves of light as a mer-' maid reclines on a wave of the ocean. His workshop faced the wooded hill and he worked there constantly, modelling trifiing things with great patience. The longing to create. to invent something still held possession of him, but he knew that he would never create mas terpiece and he sorrowed greatly
 One morning he was more melancholy than usual It was one of the first days of spring. that delightful season in Tus- cany when every flower. every blade of grass. is throbbing with new life. The, moment he awoke Leone saw once more the beautiful picture. which had been fin his day dreams so long. and at the same time he remembered these immortal words which the Fiorentine poet has nut Into the mouth of Francesca da Rimini:
 No greater sorrow .s
 Than remembering happy times
 Tn days of dole.
 And tears, which he wiped away with a feverish hand, fell from his eyes.
 Recovering himself he went bravely to his daily task. It was. indeed, beauti- full morning. Through the large open window in his shop he could see the smiling country: birds were singing. sweet smelling flowers were blooming on all sides and light flooded 1t all. As he worked sedulously he looked out new and then at the green foliage and the young grass. and he watched the grace full martins as they skinned hither and thither on clear cut wings through the air.
 The hillside on which his shop stood was generally deserted; only children and lovers strayed there occasionally, tempted by the luxuriant foliage and the abun- dant flowers. As he worked Leone felt as though he was alone in the world: but as he was modelling a handle for a jar a loud cry escaped him. Before him at a little distance was she of whom he constantly dreamed. the Florentine girl Ho Hdu SccH O1t tiC bqudi0 Ol 1ulCndCA Angelo. But now she was not alone, for a man accompanied her. and in his presence she held herself erect and listen ed to what he was saying. That he was making love to her was probable. for | there was a gentle smile on her face.
 Leone's first impulse was to rush up 10 them. take the man. who was surely | either her lover or her husband. by the | throat. crush him with his strong and l brutal hands and carry away the beau- | tiful woman. whom he had found at last | after his long search. Did she not be- | long to him by divine right? Had he | not won her by all his sacrifices and | tears? He went almost mad with jeal- | ousy as he saw her smiling at her com panion's earnest words. There she stood | within a few paces of him. and even | more beautiful on this radiant spring | morning than when he had last seen her | in the twilight. A passionate impulse | to strike his rival dead seized hold of | the potter's son and made him tremble | from head to foot. He feared she would | disappear and his despair at the thought | of losing her again impelled him to com init this terrible crime. In him he felt was concentrated at that moment the hatred which for centuries had kept the two hostile factions of the city at each others throats. He represented the Ghibelline, rebeilious, savage and ever