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LOVE'S GREETLVG.
“How would you greet me, dear, if I should
cornef"—“It. E."
You ask how I would greet you;
Love, why ask?
Can I paint rapture in mere words?
Count heart-beats as a task?
I only know, that seeing you would be
The glad surprise,
That the first glimpse of light and flowers brings
To long blind eyes.
But, ah! what words are deep enough to hold
The raptured hush,
With which they’d watch the sunlight’s gold,
Or rosebud’s tender flush?
I only know, the sight of you would be
As dew to flowers;
That, drooping on their stems, have hung
Through noontide hours.
And yet, I cannot paint in words,
The joy that thrills
Throughout eaeh fragrant heart as, drop by drop,
Each chalice fills.
And thus, my joy at seeing you,
Would pass the reach
Of words in any tongue that’s known—
All forms of speech.
But this I cannot tell—I think, perhaps,
That I could show
Just how I’d greet you if you came;
So, if you care to know?
There stretches out between us, Dear,
No bridgeless space;
Your question is best answered here—
Here, face to face,
Rebecca Cameron.
Hillsboro, N. C., July 6,1873.
EVEN UNTO DEATH;
—OR THE—
Mystery of Monk’s Tower.
BY ROSE ASHLEIGH,
Ol'Month Carolina.
Author of “His Other Wife,” “The Wid
ow's Wages," etc.
CHAPTEB IV.
THE ENCHANTRESS.
A moment of intense moral repugnance
combined with physical terror held the wo
man motionless, but she shook herself free of
it by a powerful effort of will that seemed to
have driven all the blood in her fair body
back to its source, so white and so cold she
was, as she leaned down over the half-couch-
ant figure of the maniac, from whose grasp
she gently disengaged one of her hands to
pass it slowly and with caressing softness over
his disfigured face.
“My poor, poor Gian!” she murmured in a
low, soothing tone, that seemed tc fall upon
the madman’s ear as balm into a quivering
wound. The swollen veins that corded his
brow relaxed under her touch, and the dull
fire faded from his dilated eyes.
A sound,as pitiful as it was inarticulate,was
all the audible acknowledgement that her
words evoked; but it was less dreadful and
less mad than the harsh wild laughter which
had greeted her entrance.
The poor mad creature made an effort to
draw her down to the floor beside him. She
did not resist, but, seating herself on the car
pet, continued to stroke his hands and his
cheek, all the while speaking gently to him
in Italian. He appeared to understand and
to appreciate all she said to him, but was un
able to answer save by mute appealing looks
and gestures. The awful piteousness of that
dumb intelligence no words can picture.
It brought the tears to the woman’s eyes;
and with a stifled sob of sheer compassion,
she drew the madman’s head down upon her
lap, closing his eyes with her hand that he
might not see her face till she had calmed it.
he made some sign which she comprehended,
for immediately she commenced to sing, in a
low, rich, contralto voice, a strain of foreign
music.
The heaven-sweet tones of the singer might
of themselves have charmed a sick brain to
rest, and the chant-like measure of the mel
ody added a power indescribable to her path
etic voice.
For a time the haggard eyes of the maniac
continued to wander over the pale face of the
woman, as if some wondrous rapture stirred
in the depths of his shadowed soul; the worn
and sallow cheeks became slightly flushed,
and waves of a passionate extacy went shud
dering through his wasted frame as he looked
and listened.
The song waxed fainter and more sweet.
It was like a mother’s lullaby to a restless
child on the verge of slumber. The soft, mes
meric fingers strayed with lighter movements
about the rugged face and throat of the
demented sufferer, upon whose countenance
a dreamy vagueness had taken the place of
the pain-riven look it wore at first.
Sleep,the Magician, was coming to fold dusk
wings of down over the tortured brain, that
for days and nights had been in travail-throes
to bring forth the idea of its want.
That is to say, the confused and diseased
mind had been massing together its dis
ordered faculties to the task of shaping and
then expressing, a strong need that was
struggling into existence from his inner
being.
That nied was for this woman’s presence.
Now that it was filled, a great peace suc
ceeded to the weary conflict. The distorted
features lost their‘look of strained anxiety;
the quivering lids, that no opiates had been
able to seal, now drooped restfully.
Repose, deep as death, gathered all the fev
ered senses into its cool, silent chamber, and
locked them in.
“He will net waken for hours now,” whis
pered Dr. Raolfo, as he substituted a cushion
for the lady's knee, upon which the sleeper’s
head rested.
Together they disposed his limbs for a long
rest, and together quitted the dim turret.
The lady passed swiftly to her own apart
ments, and shnt herself within them.
Raolfo, following with slower steps, cast
an envious and longing glance upon the closed
door that barred from his sight the soft love
liness of the Countess Ina de Montferra, his
ward.
Late in the evening of that same day the
Earl of Creveldt was returning homeward
from a day’s fishing off the rude coast be
hind the range of hills on the highest of which
stood the mansion of Rochelle.
Whether from a natural passion for the sea.
which is often found in men of powerful and
taciturn character, that seeks in the vast
solitude of the watery desert a more con
genial element for their larger range of
thought, or because of a restive impatience
of human society that sometimes possessed
him, Lord Creveldt frequently spent hours,
sometimes days, alone on the sea in his sail
boat.
This had been one of his “grey-days.”
Shadows from some far-off time had gathered
about his soul during the starry' watches of
the night while he paced the colonnade at
Rochelle, puffing sweet smoke-wreaths from
his cigar into the dark still air. His brief
slumbers had not scattered the ghosts, and
he had set forth at day'-dawn from the little
cove in which his boat was moored.
It was now almost twilight, and his sails
sped shoreward like the wings of a weary
seagull seeking its nest in the crags. The
light still lingered in “the sunset sky,” and
turned the line of beetling cliffs to rugged
heaps of gold crested wich violet crowns.
Sitting half reclined in the stern of his boat,
with one hand on the rudder, Lord Creveldt
gazed dreamily on the empurpled battle
ments that walled in the land from the in
vasion of the sea that was often outrageous,
but this evening lay' at the foot of the grim
grey crags like a lover caressing his beloved.
Nearing the shore of the point where he
usually disembarked when the tide was high,
the earl's languid gaze was startled by a very-
unwonted feature in the familiar view.
Upon one of the tallest and most abrupt of
the cliffs the lone figure of a woman was
standing with her face to the sea.
The roseate atmosphere about her invested
her form with a preternatural brilliance.
The folds of gossamer fabric, white as snow,
that the,wind spread out like pinions, added
to the illusory* aspect that she presented,
poised there upon a dozy precipice high in
air, as if some white spirit of the waves had
just alighted from its flight across the deep.
Lord Creveldt felt a thrill of artistic de
light in this picture, that conjured to his
fancy dreams of the weird sea-maidens of
old Norse legends, who appeared to wander
ing mariners either for doom or for guidance.
But a more practical view of the apparition
chased the poetic idea from his mind to give
place to another more disturbing if not less
romantic. Familiar with each spot upon
that coast for miles beyond Rochelle on
either side, he knew that in order to reach
the lofty, dangerous perch where she stood,
she must have walked half a mile or more
along the beach, which at low water lay a
firm stretch of yellow sand below the crags.
From this beach a steep foot-path led up
among the rocks, and was frequented only
by cow-herds or the idle boys who preyed
npon the sea-birds' nests concealed in the
interstices of the cliffs. Thither had his
lordship climbed many a time during his chid-
RIGHT HONORABLE JOHA" BRIGHT, OF ENGLAND.
attitude, with her hands hanging down and
clasped in front, her head a little thrown
back, more fully revealing the contour of a
captivating chin and throat, held his atten
tion in that gentle thraldom which the beauty
of woman weaves about the fancy- of man.
He was conscious of a regretful emotion when
at last she turned and came slowly towards
his hiding-place in a cleft of the ridge.
He felt loth to lose the abstract pleasure of
looking on the graceful picture that she made
—and perhaps he dreaded a little to have the
illusion of the moment dispelled by- finding
that his imagination had been the sorcery
which had thus disguised some ordinary-
mortal of the commonplace world. TVhat if
she should be, after all, only a peasant with
a tolerable figure and ruddy skin! He had
lived long enough to expect the worst pos
sible results of such speculative pleasures.
Meanwhile she advanced, little dreaming
of a “lion in the path” wearing the outward
shape of the giantesque nobleman who
watched her approach with infinite amuse
ment and curiosity, hoping the best but fear
ing the worst of his adventure, which he
knew was liable to any capricious termin
ation—having a woman in the question. .
hood, sure-footed as an antelope, swinging
himself from points of jutting rocks to reach
below him for the treasures dear to the
marauding heart of masculine youth, that
even at so tender an age begins to find its
highest enjoyment in what is most inacces
sible
The earl shuddered to behold that fair,
frail creature—ignorant or regardless of her
present situation—poised like a bird on the
towering rocks, while below her the only
mode of escape to the safe woodland beyond
lay now covered by- the tide that had flowed
in while she loitered along.the upward path
or dreamed the hours away upon the
heights.
She must be a stranger to the place, as
also to the times and seasons of the tides, else
had she not ventured so far from the beach
with the sea creeping up to the cliffs.
It would now be five or six hours before
even a tiny strip of dry land would allow a
passage around the wail of rock, w-hile there
she stood unconscious of her awful solitude.
To put his boat into the semi-circular cove,
and land at the foot of the winding path by-
which this unwary- straggler had ascended
the cliff, was no very- difficult feat for Lord
Creveldt, who, besides being a hardy- and
fearless boatman, was a man of resources,
always coolest in moments of exigency. By
fastening the little craft with a long chain to
the bodv of a scrubby shrub growing out of
the rocky side of the cliff, he knew he should
find it safe on the strand at low water. Hav
ing executed this simple manoeuvre, he
swiftly ascended the threadlike windings of
the precipitous path, that was safe enough
for a steady climber but by no means the
kind of promenade one would fancy a lady
choosing at such an hour. It had grown quite
dark under the shadow of the crags, but up
on the heights it was still bright with the
pale saffron tints from the west, and their
reflection in the calm sea
The earliest stars were showing wanly in
the silvery ether, and to these the face of the
woman was upturned when the earl approach
ed. He stopped below and behind her, fearing
to startle her by a sudden announcementpf his
presence; for she stood so near the edge of
the cliff, full fifty feet above the boiling surf,
that any sudden "movement towards the brink
of the precipice might have been fatal.
His heart shipped beating as he realized her
peril, wondering also by what unwholesome
fancy she had been led to occupy so danger
ous a position.
Seating himself among the ferns that grew
thickly along the path's edges, he determined
to wait quietly there until she should retrace
her steps to a safe distance from the verge of
the rock.
Meantime he had opportunity to make a
minute survey of her person, that was sharply-
outlined against the translucent sky. Lord
Creveldt's were no: eyes to let pass a single
harmonious curve of the delicately voluptu
ous figure, or one sweet line of the tender
womanly face that stood before him envel
oped in the soft silvery mist of that perfect
evening.
A something of sad abandoment in her
CHAPTER V.
ON THE STARLIT HEIGHTS.
Not unlike a dark genii conjured by the
wand of some unseen enchanter from the
earth at her feet, Lord Creveldt stood before
the lady, as she set her dainty foot on the
downward pathway to the beach. The twi
light shadows ,-erved to strengthen the effect
of his always imposing presence, and the
tinge of awe in the lady’s startled excl imation
was not unnatural, as she said:
“Who and what are you, sir?"’
It was the Countess of Montferra who
spoke, and the blood of a haughty- patrician
race that filled her delicate veins, leapt to the
surface at the sight of a strange man intrud
ing upon her solitude, and gave to her tone
\ an accent of imperious command that made
| her question sound like a challenge.
I Lord Creveldt bared his noble head, and
! inclined it with gentle dignity, as he answered
! smiling, and speaking in Italian as she had
! done:
| “O nly a poor gentleman ready to serve you,
I signora. ”
“Thank you: but I need no service.”
The reply was sweetly- uttered, and in her
! turn the lady smiled. The reverential tone
i and noble bearing of the stranger had quite
disarmed her fears.
j Lord Creveldt said no more but stoodaside
to let her pass on. She did so without fur
ther comment, simply acknowledging his
courtesy by a gracious movement of her
head. The earl's eyes followed her with a
flicker of mischievous humor as he let her
get well out of sight of him before he, too,
begun to go down the cliff, keeping himself
hid by the projecting rocks till he came to a
point from wbicb he could observe the inde
pendent wanderer when she shoul 1 reach a
spot where the foamy surf would forbid fur
ther progress.
This happened directly. She stopped,
uttered a little cry of surprise, and looked in
dismay upon the white waves rolling up
against the cliffs instead of the glistening bar
of “sea-ribbed sand” she had crossed three
hours previous.
The cause and motive for the tall stranger’s
presence now stood confessed, and straight
way she cast a longing glance backward
along the steep, rude path over which the
darkness had quite closed; and much she re
pented of her hasty dismissal of his offer to
protect her. Seeing no sign of him, she con
cluded he had taken offence at her haughty
manner, and departed by some other route.
She twined her fingers nervously, and turned
her ey-es once more to the in-rolling waves.
She understood the situation perfectly now
and knew she must wait six hours for a pas
sage around the cliffs.
Meantime she was alone with the sea and
the night, and wholly- ignorant of the local
ities around her. Even if other means of re
treat existed she could not hope to find them
in the darkness. Visions of prowling crea- !
tures that might infest those wild crags stole j
on her fancy vaguely. Perhaps the “dark J
stranger still lingered where she had left him. I
Should she return and sue for the favor she j
had already declined?
She was saved the solution of her question
by hearing the deep tones of a kindly voice
say good-humoredly:
“See, signora, it is not always wise to re
ject well-meant assistance till one is quite
certain of one's self-sufficiency.”
She beheld the towering figure of the earl
on a rock several feet above her. His shadow
fell over her like the sheltering wing of a
potent spirit of the air.
TYas this accidental tableau"typical of what
was to come ere these two had reached the
end of their chance acquaintanceship?
“Ah, it is true!” cried the countess, in the
f lad ingenuous voice of a child relieved at
nding a strong presence near it in a moment
of danger or distress. She added, laughing:
“You must forgive my abruptness, sir; I
am strange to your country and customs,
for though you speak to me in my own lan
guage, I perceive you are English, and I
thought it best to be independent. In the
land whence I oame it is not every knight-
errant whom a lady in distress can trust to
for protection.”
“For that matter, all lands are much alike,
signora: but let me hope that vour first ac-
quaintace with English knighPerrantry may
give you a tolerable opinion of. our code of
gallantry.”
He had reached her side now, and was
looking straight down into her fair, soft face,
over which, even in the starlit dusk, he could
see changeful emotions passing. A light
dewy odour of violets came up to him from
her-braided hair, where they were clustered,
lovingly, near the snowy curve of her neck.
The warm lustre of her eyes shone under his
gaze, clear, calm, deep, and tiustfuL They
seemed mutely asking him to take care of
her.
“Are you afraid” he said, playfully.
“No, not now."
“The unaffected candour of her reply went
right to his great tender heart; lor of all
things Lord Creveldt loved the honest earnest
truthfulness that is woman’s best armour and
most alluring grace.
Affectations, of what kind soever, belong
to weak and shallow natures.
A soul that is pure, and rich, and fearless,
is always natural, lor it has no need to.bor-
row anything of another. Its original indi
viduality must suffer by acquired manners.
“Thank you,” said the earl, softly.
He comprehended all the meaning conveyed
in the lightly-accentuated now, and it touch
ed the most chivalrous chord in his lieing.
“You must allow me to find for you a less
exposed place in which to pass the time that
must intervene before we can make our
escape from these cliffs. The waters down
there are too angry for us to attempt an em
barkation in my boat. We have no alterna
tive but to wait patiently for the ebbtide.
You know that, don't you ?”
“Yes; if there is no other path to the high
way.”
“There is none whatever. You are cold”—
seeing her shiver a Utile—“and it is no won
der with so thin a dress. Bee how much
more provident against accidents we weath
erbeaten men are !”
As he said this, he threw over the coun
tess’s shoulders, without asking her leave, a
light summer topcoat lhat he had just taken
from his own.
“Theie, you’ll not freeze at least. Come,
now, give me your hand, and let me help you
up the path again. It was cruel ot me to
suffer you to come down; but I was atraid
that nothing less than the evidence of y our
own vision would satisfy- you of the necessity
you had lor my protection.”
“Why did you not try the effect of a plain
statement ol ihe facts ! 1 should have be
lieved and confided in you as well then as
now,” said the countess, archly, as she toiled
upwards behind Lord Creveldt, who held her
sum hand firmly.
“Ah, but I could not know that. Besides,
you aid not setm any loo cordial in your
welcome to me.”
“That istiue. It was very good of you
to follow me after my rudeness.”
Bhe laughed at the recollection of the little
scene. Teihsps she was contrasting her dig
nified refusal of his help w iih her present ap
propriation of and gratetuiness for it. and
unconsciously her fingers nestled more confi
dingly in the stiong warm palm that enclos
ed them.
“There was no ‘rudeness,’ but even if there
had been 1 could have done no less than per
sist in taking caie of you, knowing whatl
did. A man should nevfer let the hasty word
of a woman vex him any more than ihat of
a child. Should he?”
He expected her lo resent the remark, but
she only answered quite simply:
“No, he should noi, but most men do.”
“Yes, and often when they have provoked
it. But 1 was only jesting. You seem a
good climber, signora,” he added, feeling
now- little she leaned on his hand—how sure her
feet were upon the irregular ledges of the
rock.
“Yes, I spent much of my childhood in
the mountains. I love great heights and
clear distances, like an eaglet. These cliffs
are grand, and 1 lancy the sea is sometimes
very w-ild here.”
“Ah, you should see it in a storm! No
wonder the old Vikings loved it. Its terrors
are so like what their own wild passions
were”
“Is there not a wonderful fascination in
the terrible tor every one ?”
“For all great natures, yes. Whatever
approaches the infinite spells a lofty soul and
draws it; and nothing so much as the mystery
of ‘old Ocean.’”
They had now reached the top of the cliff
again. Lady ina wondered wnat chance of
shelter there was upon .this breezy plateau,
enveloped in the soft gloom of starlight so
high in air.
The earl paused here to let her take breath
after their ascent.
The world of murmurous waters lay far-
reaching before them, glassing the cloudless
blue dome all gemmed w ith “the diamonds
of the sky.”
There was thrilling witchery, in a situation
like this for these two souls, so responsive to
every appeal to the more exalted sentiments,
standing alone and aloft in creation where
no other pulse of human life than their own
throbbed near them. Pei haps it was this
idea that caused them simultaneously to turn
each to the other their faces. On each coun
tenance the same hushed emotion trembled—
the same thought “troubled the waters,” in
each heart!
It was as if soul answered soul a question
whispered by Nature in the stir of winds, and
the voices of mingling waves in the deeps
below..
Could they, this man and this woman,
utter strangers, and as yet nameless to each
other, have looked into the horoscope that
the wizard Destiny prepared for them, and
beheld there the tragic future they were to
tread togetuer from this point wnere their
lives converged, they would have clasped
hands in the mystic starshine, and togetner
have leaped into the sea for escape from
woes so terrible to flesh and blood!
But happily no foreshadowing of coining
events crossed their vision as their glances
met and trembled with that strange, silent
sympathy that draws two spirits within one
orbit, and fulfills the soul’s vague dream of a
duality begun m some Jar time ago, broken
by the accident of birth, and re-umted by
the inscrutable Power that arranges the
order of the atomic life of the universe for
His own end—and, let us believe, for His
glory.
CHAPTER VL
A DANGEROUS VENTURE.
“Are you sufficiently rested to proceed a
little further ?” asked tn» earl of his compan-
: ion. j
j “Yes,” was the low reply which her lips
■ gave mechanically, while Her eyes still show-
; ed that her spirit hovered above the realities
of the actual present.
He moved forward, still leading her, by
a scarcely perceptible path, over the irregu
lar surface of the crags. Ten minutes walk
ing brought them to where fissures in the
rock made an abrupt descent by a sort of
natural stairway for a distance of several
j yards.
j “Step cautiously, and rest your hand—so
—on my shoulder,” said Lord Creveldr, step-
ing firmly downward, knowing every inch
j of the way.
Now they reached a level space, about
i three yards square, and that seemed to ex-
| tend over a gulf-like void, in which the roar
of the waves was heard. Behind and around
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