Newspaper Page Text
2
had not slept; for three days she had not
left -Amy’s side. *As she passed the con
servatory, a tall figure started up in the
path. It was Marmaduke, pule with
lasting and watching.
“Will she live?” he gasped.
“For the present, dear brother, there
*s no danger,” answered Emily, smiling ;
-for four days, she has hovered on the
brink of the grave, but last night she
dept well, and this morning, she is much
better, and very much astonished to find
herself still living, and no immediate
prospect of death!”
Marmaduke waited to hear no more; he
turned abruptly away and sought his
own room, where throwing himself upon
the bed, he fell into a deep sleep.
The days slipped away; another week
passed; and, one morning. Duke stood at
Amy’s door, timidly asking admittance.
. Emily opened the door, and bid him
enter ; then sent the servant ofi on an
imaginary errand,and led ’Duke to Amy’s
si-le. She was sitting up to-day, for the
first time in many days.
A delicate white wrapper was folded
around her fragile form, and the soft lace
of the sleeves could not conceal her
attenuated arms. It is true, she was very
pale; but a sweet smile hovered around
her lips, and her eyes wore a more hopeful
look than had been seen in them of late.
’Duke seated himself upon the little
ottoman upon which her feet rested, and,
taking her hand, looked wistfully up in her
face.
“I believe you all loved me so much
that you would not let me die,” said Amy,
smiling faintly upon him.
“Oh ! if love could keep you, ours was
strong enough to snatch you from the
very grasp of Death ?” auswered ’Duke.
“You shouhj have seen him, how
solemn he looked, Amy,” said Emily;
“and when 1 told him that you would
live, he did not even wait to thank me,
but ran away in a moment.”
. “ I was too glad !” said ’Duke,
simply.
“And I am very grateful for your
kindness!” said Amy, tears springing to
her eyes.
“But, ’Duke, you have not asked me to
show you the little one you have adopted !”
said Emily, laying her hand on his arm.
’Duke started, his face hushed and
paled, and he stammered out an incohe
rent request that he might be allowed to
see it.
“Certainty !” replied Emily, laughing,
and instantly placing a tiny bundle on his
lap.
’Duke gazed helplessly upon the wee
face upon his knee, noted its dark blue
eyes and short, golden curls; then look
ing, appealingly, at Emily, he asked:
“What am Ito do with it, Emily V 1
“Do with it? Why, hold it I”laughed
Emily.
“Oh ! how could you, sister ? Take it
away,” said the soft voice of Amy; “you
know ’Duke does not want to hold it.”
“And why not?” asked ’Duke, sus
piciously.
“Oh ! because—because.”
“Avery poor reason, Amy,” said
Duke; “but, 1 know what you mean, and
you were never more mistaken in your
life. Will you let me name it?” and,
lifting the tiny creature in his arms, he
pressed his firm, red lips to the velvet
cheek, and caressed the golden ringlets.
“Name it?—yes, you may name it, if
you will, my kind friend !” said Amy,
holding her breath, that she might
catch the name he was about to utter.
“Then, let us call it Mac Donald of
Surrey,” said ’Duke, softly.
The pearly tears chased each other
down Amy’s check, at this last proof of
Marmaduke’s unselfish love.
“But, let us call it Arthur, also,” said
Emily.
“Yes,” murmured Amy, and the little
oue was named.
“Don’t look contemptuously upon this
little one, dear leader; you may be happy
to meet it again some day, when years
have added grace and beauty to the
limp figure.
The Sin inner days passed away, and
the colds winds of Winter again whistled
around the old Hall. Reginald and
Eugenia returned to London ; the others
preferred remaining at the old Hah with
the little children. Arthur spent his time
alternately at the Hall and in London.
A gay season had our friends in town,
and a quiet, peaceful \\ inter, those who
remained at the Hall. The sixth of Leb
suary, the anniversary of Amy’s deep
sorrow, was passed by her in solitude and
iears, but the next day she came forth
again, and took her place in the family
circle. The sweet breath of Spring
brought the roses again to Amy’s cheek,
and she led her little one, who could just
begin to step, among the flowers that
bloomed so freely in the garden.
As she sat in the shade of a wide
spreading tree, one bright June morning,
she saw ’Duke coming slowly towards her.
His arms were folded across his breast,
and his eyes bent upon the ground.
Amy watched him as he came nearer
and nearer, and noted the start he gave
when first made aware of her presence.
He was about to turn away, but suddenly
altering his purpose, went up to her.
“Good morning, Amy; I have not seen
you out so soon for some time. Where
is the baby ?”
“There, among the flowers,” said
Amy, pointing to a thicket of roses,
where the little Arthur was pulling the
flowers with a rough hand.
“May I sit here ?” asked ’Duke.
“Certainly,” answered Amy, making
room for him beside herself, “you have
my permission, ’Duke, but it was not
necessary for you to ask it.”
“Oh! we must treat the Countess of
Surrey with all due respect,” said ’Duke,
smiling.
“Countess of Surrey !” echoed Amy;
“ah! believe me, ’Duke, I would never
have been Countess of Surrey, had I not
believed that it would be for only a few
short weeks.”
“I do believe it,” said ’Duke bitterly;
“I know that you thought you were about
to die. Under no other circumstances,
would you have borne my name !”
“Oh ! you misunderstand me,” said
Amy; “it was not that I disliked your
name, ’Duke, but I would not have robbed
you of the privilege of bestowing your
noble name upon one more worthy of
it.”
“Oh! Amy, do not try to soften the
violence of the blow ; let me feel it in all
its stunning force ! I regret the act that
binds you to me, and if I could, I would
make you free!”
“You cannot regret it more than I do,”
murmured Amy, turning her head aside.
“Ah !” exclaimed Marmaduke, pressing
his hand to his heart; “you regret it so
bitterly, and I am powerless to free you ;
but you will at least do me the justice,
Amy, to say that I have never annoyed
you with any manifestation of love ?”
“I can say it, truly,” answered Amy;
“for one year, I have been your wife, and
this is the first time, I believe, that I have
heard the word love from your lips. Oh '.
no, ’Duke, you have never annoyed me
with your love.”
“And so, you see, Amy, I have done
all that 1 could. I knew that you could
never love me, and had I not thought, as
you did, that you would not live to feel
the weight of the galling chain, 1 had not
proposed to bind your life to mine. But,
believing that your child would he left an
orphan, I wished to secure to it a noble
inheritance.”
“I fully appreciate the value of your
generous self-sacrifice 1 ,” answered Amy ;
“and my child shall never utter your
name, except with blessing. It shall be
the first name his infant lips syllable, and
I will tell him to let it be the last be
murmurs, when his lips are growing cold
in death!”
“You over rate the value of the service,
but I would that your son’s title had been
purchased less dearly. I could have
given it to him without this sacrifice, but
not so easily ! ’
“Believe me, my Lord,” said Amy,
rising, and a crimson flash mantling her
cheek; “believe me,'l am willing to re
lease you. You will do me the justice to
remember that it was only after the most
earnest solicitation that 1 consented. 1
could almost wish that I had died when l
was so near death !”
“Even death, then, is preferred to my
company,” groaned Duke; but Amy did
not hear him; she had lifted her boy in
her arms, and was going rapidly towards
the house.
’Duke looked after her until her form
was lost amid the trees and flowers, and
then leaned back on the seat, covering bis
face with his hands.
[to be continued.]
Ciiapel or the Sister of Mercy,—
This building is not quite so far advanced
as an enterprising morning newspaper
would have us believe, but the founda
tion has been laid and the joists of the
first floor arc now being laid, and the
work will be prosecuted to completion as
rapidly as possible. _ The building is
forty feet front and ninety feet deep. It
will be about forty feet high, divided in
to two stories. The first floor will be used
for school and exhibition purposes, and
the second story tilted up for a chapel.
The walls are eighteen inches in thick
ness, and are being put up in the most
substantial manner.
The building is within the walls of the
Convent of the Sisters ol Mercy, on Liu
erty street, and not on Liberty Square.
Sav. Republican..
Catholic Church in Rome. —Mr. AV in.
Williamson, at Veal's store, lias the sub
scription list, and desires those willing
to assist in building a place of worship
for that Church, to call on him. A
Catholic Church here would bring valu
able additions to our population that can
not otherwise be obtained. A\ e presume
our enterprising citizens will appreciate
this fact, and lend a helping hand.
FOREIGN NEWS.
From the Belfast Observer, of Nov. ‘2B.
The first anniversary of Allen, Larkin,
and O’Brien was celebrated in Glasnevin
Cemetery on Sunday. Although heavy
rain fell during the day, there was a
crowded attendance. The proceedings
were of a most orderly nature.
The Prince of Wales was very mar
coming to grief lately, lie was thrown
from his horse in the hunting-field at
Compeignc on Friday, but was so little
injured that he remounted at once, and
rejoined the hunting party. The Prince
and Princess have since left Compei'gne
for Paris, where they will remain until
Wednesday.
The polling for the county of Dublin
election took place on Saturday at Kil
mainham, Balbriggan, aud Kingstown.
At the close of the poll the voting stood
as follows: Taylor, 2,171; Hamilton,
2,184; M’Swiuey, 1,181.
We regret to learn that the Monaghan
election did not pass over as peaceubly as
was hoped. A man named Clarke, who
is alleged to have taken a prominent part
in the late riots on the Orange side, was
severely—and it is rumored fatally—
wounded.
The electors of Dungarvan have sent
Mr. Barry about his business on account
of his assassination speech at the Fenian
trials. Mr. Mathews was elected.
The Weekly Register announces that
the Archbishop ol Olrnutz, having re
fused to deliver to the civil authorities
the registers of the Ecclesiastical Matri
monial Tribunal, has been condemned
to pay a fine of SI,OOO, and threatened
with a further fine of $2,000 if he does
not comply. The Archbishop was pre
viously fined £7OO. We should like to
hear of an Anglican Bishop standing up
in this way for the interestsol his Church.
The Elections—Liberal Triumphs.
—The glorious, result is now certain—
that in the new Parliament there will be
a triumphant majority in favor of Glad
stone’s Church policy of more than one
hundred. This is decisive. It leaves
no room for hesitation or doubt. The
House of Lords may offer some opposi
tion—the Bill for Disestablishment and
Disendowment may be thrown out next
session by the Peers; but no obstructive
policy can stifle the voice of the nation;
and we may dismiss the subject with the
remark that, no matter bow* delayed
it may be in its complete realisa
tion, disestablishment and disendowment
is henceforth the policy of the British
Parliament. This is a glorious result—
a magnificent triumph of justice over
three hundred years of cruelty and op
pression. An insulting “badge of con
quest” will be swept away, and we may
look forward to the future of our country
with hope and pride.
But, glorious as is the grand result, it
is eclipsed by the splendor of the victo
ries so unexpectedly won in Ulster. In
the strongholds of Tory fanaticism, of
landlord terrorism and inveterate bigot
ries, the Protestant and the Catholic
have forgotten past feuds—have remem
bered that they arc equally concerned in
the welfare and prosperity of their com
mon country, and by a wise and provi
dential union have signally triumphed
over those who would make slaves of
both.
TIIE LONDON PRESS OF SATURDAY ON TIIE
ELECTIONS.
After these elections the chief interest
is concentrated in the Irish boroughs.
Londonderry, the cradle of Orangeism,
and a city whose traditions are all asso
ciated with the idea of Protestant ascen
dancy, has actually ousted Lord Claud
John Hamilton, a son of the Lord Lieu
tenant. Even this is not so remarkable
as the issue of the Belfast election, which
has placed the redoubtable Mr. Johnston,
of Ballykilbcg, at the head of the poll,
and given him a Liberal colleague in the
person of Mr. M’Clure, leaving Sir Chas.
Lanyon and Mr. Mulholland ,thc two offi
cial Tory candidates, hopelessly in the
rear. Mr. Johnston’s month of impris
onment has made his political fortune,
and wholly marred those of the party
which only a session or two ago could
boast of sending Sir Hugh Cairns to Par
liament as the representative of “the
Protestantism” of Belfast. It is true
that Mr. Johnston is an avowed Con
servative, but he is also the sworn foe of
the party in power; while, ou the land
question, he has recently made a great
stride in the direction of tenant right. At
Dundalk, in spite of a division of the
Liberal interest, Sir George Bowyer,
whose Parliamentary conduct has natu
rally alienated his constituents, has been
superseded by Mr. Cuban, a Liberal, who
is not likely to stultify himself by sup
porting Mr, Disraeli on every convenient
opportunity. At Drogheda, Air. B. Whit
worth, whose seat was at one time sup
posed to be in danger, has defeated Sn
Leopold M’Clintock, the Arctic naviga
tor, by a large majority. At Carrick-
fergus, Mr. Dal wav, a Liberal, has
wrested a seat from Mr Torrens, the late
Tory member for that borough; Mr.
Kirk has taken the place of a Conserva
tive at Newry; and Mr. Shaw lias ren
dered a similar service at Bandon, where
Mr. Bernard, .a member of Lord Ban
don’s family, has been defeated by a
small majority.— Morning Star.
The Manchester Martyrs.- It is just
twelve months to-day since Dublin wit
nessed the popular demonstration in
memory of the men who suffered in Man
chester for the unhappy loss of lifo which
attended the rescue of Col. Kelly and
Capt. Dcasy. It will be remembered
that the inclemency of the weather on
that occasion in no way diminished the
greatness of the demonstrati >n. It was
deemed advisable and deeojrms' suitably
to commemorate that demonstration, and
on Saturday last public notices appeared
calling on men to assemble and pray
round the tomb erected in Glasnevin
Cemetery to the memory of Allan,
O’Brien, and Larkin. It was ruled that
no address should be delivered, or other
display made, on the occasion, and so it
was on yesterday when many thousands
congregated and silently said a prayer tor
the dead, and went away in peace. The
cross which stands over the grave was
wreathed with laurel and palm, and a i
small device wreathed in shamrocks bore
the last words of the youthful Alla*),
“ God save Ireland.” A flower or two
drooped on the grave, which seems to
be kept with care. At one time there
must have been five or six thousand per
sons present. They uncovered as they
paid the last tribute which the memory
of a friend demands, and in the'great
gathering there was more of sympathy
and mourning than of demonstration.
The rain poured in torrents all the time,
but for several hours the ingress and
egress to the cemetery continued. Very
many young men of the better classes
wore laurel leaves in their hats, and green
was very frequently conspicuous in the
general attire. Dr. Waters, when the
crowd was greatest, said a few words,
lie observed that there waste be no de
monstration. All tiiey sought for was
the commemoration ol the day when the
memory of the martyrs was honored by
their countrymen He asked them to
pray to God as fervently for the three men
at whose grave he stood, as they had
prayed “God save Ireland.” lie told
them that Masses for the dead would be
said in the Churches in Dublin at eight
o'clock this (Monday) morning, and ex
horted them to be present. The utmost
order was observed in returning from the
cemetery, and no inappropriate display
defeated the intentions of those who sug-
gested the proceedings.
In London, on yesterday afternoon, a
demonstration was announced to com
memorate the martyrdom of the Fenians
hanged at Manchester. Though the
weather was very wet, hundreds of per
sons collected at Clerkenwell-green.—
Finlen endeavored to speak, but he and
the mob were kept on the move by the
police, and orations consequently difficult.
A procession, however, formed, and pro
ceeded to Hyde Park, but continual rain
gradually diminished the attendance.—
Freeman, of Monday.
SERIOUS RIOTS IN CORK.
Cork, Tuesday.— A desperate riot is
reported to have occurred yesterday at
Kilbrittan fair, between tenants of Col.
Barnard, and partisans of Mr. Shaw, the
rival candidates at Bandon election, aris
ing out of election excitement. The po
lice, in interfering, were assailed by the
populace, and one constable, it is stated,
has been fatally injured. The police then
fired on the crowd, killing, it is reported,
three individuals.
Cork, Tuesday Evening. —The first,
account of the riot at Kilbrittan is much
exaggerated. The affair had no connec
tion with the Bandon election. It origi
nated in an attempt by the police to clear
a public house at eleven o’clock. A
collision resulted, in which the constables
used their swords. The fighting was
subsequently renewed, and the police
fired ou the crowd. One man was killed
by a gunshot, several were wounded with
swords, and two policemen slightly injure;].
Vesuvius. —A correspondent of the
Pull Mall Gazette has been to look at
Vesuvius, to see for himself what the
eruption of a volcano is like. He finds
it sufficiently terrible. He went up the
mountain and stood on the lip of the cra
ter, and peeped into the roaring abyss on
one side, taking advantage of a strong
wind that was driving all the suffocating
steam and vapour to the other. Present
ly the eruption came:
It does not consist, as the pictures neces
sarily lead one to suppose, of a shower con
tinues at all. Still less does it consist of a
cunt nuous shower f lack ashes shot
out from a fire blazing on the top of
the mountain; it is rather a series of
explosions. But the roar and gale of
the great abyss is continuous. You look
into the pit, and though yon see no
actual flame, yet its sides are in a state
of constant incandescence; from the
mouth of it there rose up incessantly
a dense cloud of steam; and in the depths
of it below you hear the noise of pre
paration for the outburst that is next
to come. Then you hear a sharper
crackle, and then, without farther warn
ing, follows a loud explosion, which
shoots into the air a torrent of white
hot missiles of every shape and size.
So enormous are the forces at work
that not only small pieces of stone and
sulphur, such as you might carry away
as mementoes of your visit, but huge
blocks of mineral, each enough to load a
railway ballast wagon, and ali in a state
of perfectly white heat, are tossed upas
though they were so many cricket bails.
The explosiou lasts, perhaps, no longer
than a minute; and then there is a ces
sation of some seconds with the noise
only of internal preparation once more,
after which the explosion is repeated.
The latest accounts say that the erup
tion continues with undimitiisht and inten
sity, and that the lava flood is doing
considerable damage to the cultivated
land at the feet of the mountain.
SPAIN.
An English gentleman, a member of
the English Church, who has resided in
Spain, writes to a friend in this country:*
“ People in England seem to have gone
mad about the revolution in this country,
but I do not believe they would be so zeal
ous on the subject, if they really knew
the truth. Imagine the Army and Navy
of England to have revolted, and have
got the upper hand thoughout the land !
Fancy the Generals and Admirals of these
services the real rulers of the Nation '
Think how it would be if Mr. Bradlaugh,
and some hundred like him, came to have
the power of the country in their hands!
A Missionary, sent out post haste, by the
Bible Society, asked me the other day
what I thought of the change of religious
sentiment in Spain. I said, what was
the simple truth, that those amongst the
people who had lost - their Catholicism,
had simply become atheists. Strange to
say, the Spaniards believe that in becom
ings what they call Protestants—but
really unbelievers—they will induce the
Government of England to befriend
them. They talk quite gravely of leav
ing Christianity , and becoming Prole
tants! ”
DEATH OF THE VERY REV. DR. GARTLAN.
Ou the 22nd of October, there died at
Banos do Montemoryor, in the vicinity
of Bejar, after a short illness, the Illus
trious Dr. James Gartlan, who was Hec
tor and Visitator llegius of the College of
Noble Irish, in tins city, for the space of
forty years. We deplore the loss of a
person so well known in the Peninsular,
and on the Continent for his excellent
gifts, brilliant talents, and special knowl
edge. He knew at the same time, the
Castilian, the Irish, the English, the
French, the Italian, Latin, Greek, He
brew, and German languages, and various
other sciences. He was also a most
profound theologian. Seale la t terra li
(jera.
CHRISTMaTiN ROME,
On Christmas Eve His Holiness goes
to Sainte Marie Majeure for Matines,
and celebrates the first Mass immediately
after the Office. On that occasion a
chased silver chest containing parcels of
our Lord’s cradle, is brought in proces
sion and deposited on the Altar. The
second Pontifical Mass takes place at ty
Peter’s at ten o’clock the next morning.
The midnight Mass is also celebrated
in the other churches, but nowhere with
as much magnificence as at San Luigi t
Francesi. The Church is then p ro
fusely illuminated and a splendid oi
cbestra is added to the regular choir.
In the Church Ara Cceli, at the capi
tol, there is a small statue of the Infant
Jesus in his waddling clothes, U l> am '
bino. That holy statue is in great n
- specially among mothers. an (
remains exposed for several days m a
pre.epio , (crib.) During that time yooiig
children, standing on a platform f ,! *
the prexepio, recite little speeches on t.i
birth of our Lord.
The Roman people are in the ha-at
of giving presents to their servants
Christmas Day; they visit each othoi ■
the Virst of January, Circoncisw* ; j :: •
wait till the Fifth of January, th 1 '>
before Epiphany, tor offering g *
ladies and brnging playthings to child ■ ■
La Befana is the Santa Clause,
man Children. She is a fairy who C( ' !ll j'
through the chimney and leaves i* nt -
ashes gifts to those who deserve it. -j
Befana never brings anything
children * *
“ There, John, that’s twice
come home and forgotten that tar*
“ La, mother, it was so greasy t° ai
slipped my mind.”