The Birmingham age-herald., 1911-03-05

 beautiful maiden sat on a bench under spreading myrtle whose blossoming branches bent down to her as if they would entwine that pure and tender brow with a bridal wreath. With her head thrown back upon those branches she re- olined with inimitable grace. A white transparent robe held by a golden clasp fell in waves to her little feet, which were incased in gold embroidered slippers of dark red leather. A blushing rose fastened in the folds of her dress upon her budding bosom. finely contrasting with her delicate flush of her cheeks. A guitar rested upon her full and rounded arm. She had been singing, this fairy maiden, and was now glancing up at the clouds, following their flight with dreamy, thoughtful eyes. She was recalling that childhood whose mystery no one would explain to her. She was thinking of the | lonely villa in which she had lived until she was F years old, and of the stately, beautiful lady who used to come and see her. lady whose flashing eyes always became tender when she looked upon Natalie and whose glance always pene- trated the heart of the child.
 | Who was this lady and where was she now? And where was that lonely house which had been Natales home? The | skies above it had been pale-not like | those glorious Italian skies-and the win | ters had been long and very cold-not | like this soft Italian climate. But Nata- | lies heart, somehow longed to see again | the lonely house and the stately lady. Why would Paulo never speak to her of the matter? And what was that lan- guage she used to speak in? Paulo would never tell her. But it was not so musical as the Italian she spoke now, and she had forgotten it--only now and then re- membering some words which she did not use because they seemed to distress Paulo. Paulo, the good, kind Paulo, who was her guardian and her very best | friend.
 | Even as she thought of her friend and protector he came along the alley. How charming that you have come, Paulo,' she cried. tell me what was that Ian guage which we used to speak before we came here? Have you forgotten that night when you came to me and said | Natalie, danger threatens; but I will save you or perish with you?" And, oh! that fabulous ride, that wonderful journey, un- | til one day you sad: Natalie, you are safe. You can be free and happy here Look around you; we are in Italy.' Tell me, good Pauo. what does it all mean Why is it that we. have no visitors and ga out nowhere? Why is this place sur rounded by such a high wall and guard ed with those fierce dogs and armed servants?" ia
 And are you not happy here?7 asked Paulo. ,
 "Oh, yes. very, happy. I do not want t, see the world, for Marianne. my good at 1 tendant, tells me that in the world peopI
 receive their guests with friendly word
 and smiles only to thank God when the, finally go. It is true Paulo. that peopl can be so false to each other and tha
 those who live in the world never diar
 speak as they thinkf' Alas. too true
 replied Paulo. The maiden talked on noticing, but not saying so, that Pault
 did not answer her first questions. Thei
 she took her guitar and sang to him, an,
 as she sang the sun set and the evening
 shadows gathered t
 There is a rlstling in the branches of tree whose boughs overhang the high wal
 of the garden. and cautiously peerinl through the foliage are two brutal faces
 gazing upon the pair who sit beneath tn
 myrtle tree. One man fumbles in hi
 bosom. and his hand brings forth snal
 dagger. He is upon the point of springin
 from the wall into the garden, but tn