The Ladysmith news and Ingram news. [volume] (Ladysmith, Wis.) 1905-1906, 1905-11-18

| myself. A fathers fostering care
never knew. A mothers love | never
realized. The cruel blow which shat
tered the cup of my joys, killed my
poor mother ere my tongue could lisp
her name. AS I grew to manhood
| knew that I was an orphan, and that
my misfortune was the work of the
King of Damascus. O! how the iron
settled into my soul. I had grown
strong and resolute, as though heaven
would enable me to work retribution
upon the tyrant Do you ask me II
enjoy the life [ have led. I answer
have made enjoyments for myself.
have felt a peculiar satisfaction in
knowing that the king feared me.
When | have heard my name spoken
by the rich and powerful with fear
and trembling, l have liked it; and
when | have known that Horam dread
ed my approach, 7 have felt that my
labors were not without their result.
But these have not been my joys. In
Damascus the name of Julian is ter
ror; but there are other places where
IlldL ndL1G Is SDOhGn Will 4ONC Ctl1A
gratitude. Upon the plains Of Abilene,
and in the mountain passes of Leban-
on, where the busy craftsmen prepare
timber for Jerusalem-there Julian is
hailed as friend and benefactor The
grim satisfaction of torturing the
cruel King of Damascus is tempered
and softened by the calmer atmos
phere Of these friendly regions"
Why did Ulin sit so still and listen
with such rapt attention to the words
though soft music were stealing DER
her senses; and she gazed upon the
man before her as though a grand, in
spring picture had been unfolded to
her vision. His words carried truth in
their very sound, and all her sympa-
thies had been aroused. She was a
woman whose nature had not been
warped by art; and the avenues to her
soul were guarded only by the pure
instincts Of virtue and humanity. Not
always the safest guard; but still the
happiest when surrounding influences
are not evil.
And now, lady," pursued Julian, IT
must tell you why I am here; and in
doing this I speak only those words
necessary to the truth. On my way
from the plains I met a messenger,
who informed me that a fair maiden
had been shut up in the Palace of the
Valley. I could not believe that a beau
tiful young virgin had willingly given
herself to the desires of Horam.
thought she had been shut up thus
against her own pleasure. With this
belief I resolved to release her. The
result you know. T have heard your
story from the lips of the black slave
who attends upon you, and she in
forms me that you are affianced to the
king by your own consent, and without
any desires on your part to the con-
trary. Is it SOP"
"The slave told you truly, sir" re-
piled Ulin, bowling her head, and
speaking in very low tone.
"And you came here to this place of
your own free will?'
Eyes, sir. My period of mourning
was not passed, and the king brought
me hither that I might be more re-
tired"
'And but for the death OF your
mother you would hare been the
kings wife ere this?"
Ulin replied in the affirmative; but
| her voice trembled, and she seemed to
shudder at the thought thus presented.
Lady" said Julian, showing some
emotion, which he evidently did not
mean to show, <'for my seeming wrong
I most humbly beg your pardon. had
| thought to wrest from the grasp of the
| king one who was an unwilling cap
| tive; but since I find myself mistaken
| I will do all / can to make amends. A
"And," said the robber, rising to his
feet, cit is better that I should leave
| you at once"
| He stopped, and swept his hand
across his brow, and when he resumed
his speech was very low, and his voice
| tremulous:
"This has been most strange ad-
venture; and as l now look upon it,
it seems as though some mischievous
sprite had planned it. AS I live I
| thought when I came hither but such
as I have told you Of I have met you,
| lady, and for the first time in my life
have felt my heart drawn warmly
| towards my native city. Henceforth
there will be something in Damascus
towards which my thoughts will turn
with other sentiments than those of
bitterness. Lady Ulin, we may never
| meet again. In this moment Of our
strange companionship, may not take
you by the hand?'
She could not have refused had she
wished; but that she had no wish so
to do was evident from the free and
friendly manner in which she arose to
meet him. She gave him her hand,
and suffered him to raise it to his lips.
Dear lady, should we never meet
again, I trust that you will bear one
kindly thought of Julian. If you are
forced to think of the wrongs he
has done, let memory of the wrongs
he has suffered be some extenuation.
Bless YOU. lady! All good spirits