.yssaa.“ .: '

   

   

1".

new :‘éflh
., y

  
 
  

 

 
  
  
   
  
    
  
 

 

 

 
 
 
 
 
  
 
  
  
 
  
  
   
 
  
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
   
 
  
   
   
  
 
 
    
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
     

 

 

 
 

'r—y- WW...” ,

 
   

I, .

  

Ba:

     
 
 
  
   
 
 

-'~ .,..;~_ ..-';;_..,"‘_.._' "

  
  
  
     
     
  
    
   
   
 
  
  
   
  
   
  
   
  

   

  
  
 
     
 
   
   
  

 

   
 
 
  
   
     
   
  
    
   
  
  
   
    
   
 
   
   

 

   
    
     
  
   
  
  
   
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

W x--
“.  ...,.,. n . I
. ‘ e "5.. A. “ .
.  . . « i 

 

 

 

‘\‘\\»

I
-

’71.

 

 

 

    
  
  
  
  
   
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
   
  
 
  
    
   
 
   
  
 
  
 
 
  
     
 
  
  
   
  
 
 
 
  
 
 
 

 

 

 

 

   
  
 

,6.”-

   

   

- "A...

  

     
    



{f

4.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

read , all, to repel boarders, for in spite‘of the
mug sea, he intends to board,” cried Captain
Rodney, and then he called out: “Make the
bull-dogs bark, lads! They are our only chance,
for if he boards we are gone under,” , _

Though the howitzers of the brig still rung
out, and their iron hail continued to be hurle(
upon the scliooner,'no re 1y came from tho buc-
caneer; he had evident y changed his plan of
action.

At their guns still stood the pirate crew,
stripped to the waist, and a motley set. ready
for any'deed of violence or bloodshed, and ‘et
held in check b the eye of their young leaf er.

Then again ‘aL'el rai ed her glass, and she
saw the lips of the buccancer chief part, as if
in command.

lnstantl ' the crew of the schooner left their
guns, an with gleaming cutlasses in hand
crowded toward the sharp bows, while their
chief, with a few words to ihe man at the helm,
went forward and was lost to sight.

“Miss Markham, again 1  you to go be-
low,” and Captain Rodney lai his hand upon
the arm of the maiden.

“Again I say I will not. It were perhaps
better that a stray bullet should kill me here,
Captaid Rodney,” said Mabel, and the look
that came into the eyes of the gonnar girl,
the old seaman read well—she woul rat or die
there, amid the excitement of the combat, than
become the dishonored prize of a buccaiicer
chief.

\Vith a determined glitter in his eyes Captain
Rodney turned away, and loud rung his deep
voice as he gave the order:

“ Boarders to repel boarders

The two vessels were now close together, sail-
ing with the wind upon their starboard quarter,
and the schooner a little astei‘n, and rapidly
overhauling the brig, which was hugging the
wind as close as she could.

The cruel faces of the pirates could now be
seen distinctly, the light of the setting sun fall-
ing full upon them, and at their head was their
young leader, a fresh cigar between his lips.

“Brig ahoy!” suddenly cried the buccaneer
chief, in tones that rung ominously.

“Aho the pirate!” answered Captain Rod-
nc sul enly.

‘ Vhat brig is that l” came the question, as the
chief, by a wave of the hand, stilled the angry
cries of his crew, at being called by the name
they had so well earned.

“ The Sunbeam—from New York to Havana;
what schooner’s that?” promptly replied Cap-
tain Rodney.

“The Curse of the Coast! Lay to, or I will
board and take you!” came the stern command.

“ Come on, then, you cursed outlaw, for I’ll
not lay to at your command,” shouted Captain
Rodney.

A yell of rage burst from the schooner’s crowd-
ed deck, but a word from the chief quieted the
tumult, and an order to the helmsman brought
the pirate craft’s bows over the taifrail of the
br' .

‘lg Fire I” shouted Captain Rodney, and as the
flying forms of the buccaneers came down uplon
the deck of the brig, some of them fell, s ot
through the heart.

But, to the su prise of Captain Rodney and
his brave crew, the buccaneeis did not return
the fire, but rushed forward armed only with
the cutlass, and at their head was their (youth-
ful leader, a gleaming weapon in his han .

“Surrender, sir captain, and save slaughter!”
cried the buccaneer chief, as he sprung for
ward and crossed the blade of the American.

The answer of Captain Rodney was to dis-
charge his pistol full in the face of the chief,
who staggered back an instant.

But the bullet merely cut a slight gash in the
temple, and severeda ock of hair that fell to
the deck, while, as if infuriated at the wound,
the chief pressed forward with fury, and struck
the weapon of Captain Rodney from his hand.

The American captain felt- that his end had
come, yet he showed no sign of fear, and shouted
to his men:

“Never mind me, lads; give them all they
want !”

Instantly the chief's weapon was lowered, the
murderous blow was not given, and he said,
quickly:

“ You are a brave man; I spare your life.”

“Oh, sir I thank ou!”

It was Mabel Mar ham that spoke, and with
outstretched hands she stood before the young
buccaneer.

“ Hold!”

The loud trumpet tones arrested every hand,
and every buccaneer, at the stern order of their
chief, stood like a statue, while the crew of the
brig,r also remained uiet.

‘ Captain, surren er your ship, and your lives
shall be spared. You are in my power, and had
I not beheld a maiden on your deck, I could
gave sunk you with my guns,” said the chief,

rmly.

“ And allow you to rob me of my all? Never,
sir pirate,” answered the American captain.

“ It is foolhardy for you to resist, for I can
sweep your docks in five minutes. See! Not
half of my men are yet on the brig.”

“And you will spare the lives of my men?”
said CaptainRodney, as if realizing that he was
indeed in the power of his enemy.

“I am no cutthroat, sir. Your life and the

m

. lives of our men shall be spared.”

“ An my fair lady passenger?”

“I am no villain—no harm shall befall her,
sir,” quickly responded the chief, as he cast a
hast glance at Mabel Markham, while his
ham some face flushed, as tho h with shame.

“But my cargo you will ro me of?” asked
Captain Rodney.

‘ A part of your cargo, yes—you car an of-
ficer with dispatches from the Uni States
Government to Captain Markham, of the sloop-
of-war Sea Hawk, now awaiting you in Ha—
vanaf”

“ You are mistaken, sir—I carry no such offi-
cer. MiS—this lady,” and Captain Rodney
checked the name upon his tongue, “and her
maid are my only ngers.”

The chief turn his eyes again upon the
beautiful face of Mabel Markham, and after an
instant’s silence, said, as though to himself:

“ Can I have been misinformed?”

" You certainly have, sir, if you expected to
mnbearer of dispatches on board the Sun-

For an instant the buccaneer was silent, and
seemed in deep thought, and then he asked, as
thou h still doubtful:

" on are not deceiving me, are you, cap-
“in!”

“ Upon in honor, no!”

“Then I ve been misinformed: but can I
ask the name of your lady passenger?”

Captain Rodney made no regly, and glanced
toward the maiden, who said, 1y:

“ My name is Mabel Markham, sir.”

The young buccaneer started—his face flushed
crimson, and then the blood quickly retreated
and left him as pale as death.

“Are you the daughter of Captain Walter
Markham, of the Sea Hawk?” and the chief
turned to Mabel and raised his hat politely,
while there was a tremor in his voice.

" I am, sir,” and Mabel noted closely the ef-
fect of her words.

The chief took a short turn across the deck,
and then halted once more before the maiden,
while he said:

“ Pardon me, Miss Markham; but do you bear
aispagches from your Government to your fa-

ier.

“ I do, sir. They were to be sent by Lieu-
tenant Paul Melville, who was ordered to join
my father’s vessel; but he was detained b ill-
ness, I learned, and the Secretary of the avy,
whom I know well, intrusted the dispatches to
mv care.”

"‘ Will ou surrender those dispatches to me,
Miss Mar ham?”

“ I will not, sir,” and Mabel spoke with a de-
tergiinatzion that proved she meant what she
sax .

" Remember, I have the power to take them,”
said the chief, with some sternness of manner.

” True; yet you will not use that power.”

“ Whylcalo you think so?” asked the buwaneer,
raising ' eyebrows curiously.

 

“ I have read that in 'our face, sir. Corsair
though on be, on we (1 not insult a woman,”
re lied abel, rankly.

he chief bowed his head, as thou h to hide
the shame that swept over it, and sai (liquickly:

“ You have read aright, lady—your 'spatches
are safe while in your keeping, yet—” and the
corsair paused, and Mabel looked up with in.
quirin glance, as though for him to continue,
which ie did after a pause.

“Yet those dispao hes concern me and mine
Vitally, and, as self-preseiwation is the first law
of nature, I must prevent their being read by
those for whom they are intended, at least until
too late to do harm.” ' _

Then tuning to Captain Rodney, the chief
continued :

“Captain, your brig, its fair passenger and
cargo, are again free, but upon one condition,
sir.”

“Name it, sir,” said Captain Rodney, struck
by the strange manner of us captor. ,

“ You are now but three short days’ sail from
Havana—promise me that you will not make
that )01 t within ten (in) s, and my men shall at
once cave your vessel.”

“And I am free to go as you found me, ex-
cepting the harm that you have done to my ves-
sel and crew .1"

“You are, sir. ”

Captain Rodney glanced toward Mabel Mark-
ham, but he could not see that she knew why
the buccaneer had released him on such easv
terms; yet he thought he saw a look as thoug i
she wished to sp-~ ak to him, and he said:

“Can I fiist speak with Miss Markham, sir!”

“No! Do you accept my terms, or refuse?"
sternlr said t we chief.

“ If I refuse?”

“i shall turn your cargo over to my men,
scuttle your brig, and set (you and your crew
adrift in your boats to fin the nearest land.
while I ta (e upon myself the duty of seeing that
Miss Markham reaches Havana in safety.”

There was no doubting the tone of the buc-
cancer—lie meant u hat he said, and Captain
Rodney quit 'kly answered:

“ I accept 'our terms. sir.”

“ You wi swear that your vessel shall not
make the port of Havana until after the tenth
day from this, and that Miss Markham shall not
be put on board any other vessel you may mect
going thither or deliver her dispatches into
other bands than those for whom they are in-
tend: d?”

“I swear it, sir.” ‘

“It is well! If you break your oath Ca tain
Rodney, i will track you to your death. our
vessel is free, sir; ood-evei-ing!”

Turning toward abel the young chief caught
her eye fixed earnestly u on him; but he 51m-
ply raised his hat while t e maiden said, earn—
estlv: ~

“ From my inmost heart I thank you, sir: but,
tell me, are you indeed he whom men call the
Curse of the Coast f” . -

“M name is Rafael, lady; my schooner has
won t ie unenviahle name you refer to.”

“Then as Captain Rafad shall I remember
you: and, thank God! I can bless and not curse
you,” and Mabel held forth her hand.

The buccaneer merely touched the tips of the
slender fingers, uncovering his hand ere he did
so: and raisintr his hat he turned away, just as
the sun’s disk isappeared in the sea.

“ To your Schooner, nicn !”

But the men did not move. During the con-
versation between their chief and his captives
niischiif had been brewin : the lawless crew
would not tamer yield so rich a prize, and mu-
tiny shone in every savage face.

“ Did you hear? To your schooner!” again

 

ordered the chief, and in tones ti .at wei ethreat—
ening, for he well knew that he stood on a vol-
cano that might burst forth in an instant.

But not a man moved: yes, one stepped to
the front—a tall, brawny fellow, with muscle-
knotted arms and breast, and savage, cruel face.

“ \Vell, sir!”

The tone of the chief changed as the man con—
fronted him; he seemed strangely calm when
his eyes fell upon one who had dared brave his
anger.

“ Captain Rafael, we risked our lives for this
prize. and having won both boot and beauty
we don’t intend to give it up,” sai the man, in
hoarse tones. . -

“ I am to understand that you dispute my au-
thoritv, am I?” and the voice of the chief was
devoid of all anger, to the surprise of the most
intere ted listeners, especially to Captain Rod-
ney, who feared, after all. the buccaneer would
pla him false, and say that he could not con-
tro his men.

“ You will understand that we are going to
have this prize—ain’t we, boys?” and the mu-
tineer turned to the crew, who gave a ready as-
sent, and an ominous silence fell upon all; the
next instant the volcano might burst forth in
fury, and human passions break into a storm
that no hand of man could stay.

(To be continued.)

 

KOSSUTH PRAIRIE.

‘ (Southern Indiana.)

 

BY FRANK DAVES.

 

Oh traveler. on your weary way,
Who hath been far, oh tell me, say,
If ever yet on foreicn shore,

Beside the Oriental Nile,

By Thames's st-eam. so bright and fair,
Upon the lakes of Switzerland,

And on Hawaii‘s fairy isle,—

lt ever you beheld before

A scene so bright and fair as this?—
A scene so peifect, free from care,
As if it were just from God’s hand;
A perfect seat of perfect bliss!

 

The Pretty Puritan:

on,
The Mystery of the Torn Envelope.
BY “A PARSON‘S DAUGHTER.”

CHAPTER XX.
THE SHADOWS OF COMING EVENTS.

BLANCBE LORRIMER came from the street into
the warm, luxurious parlor where ISsalene sat
reading, bringing a breath of the November sun-
shine and crispiness with her, as well as bril-
liantly blue eyes ml! of happy lights, and checks
rivaling the fairest peach that had ever bloomed
to ripeness under summer suns.

“ Issalene, I’ve quite a budget of news for
you,” she announced, gayly, as she tossed her
pretty silken mufl' upon a chair, and commenced
drawing off her daintily-fitting gloves.

“ “’ell?" said Issalene, lazily.

“The “'ildes and the Gardinch are in town.”

“ Oh, that is no news at all. Their cards came
this morning. Mrs. Gardiner receives to-mor-
row, and Mas. Wilde Thursdays. I so pose . e
must call. "What a bore it is—this ca ling and
receiving calls from p topic you hate.”

“ How absurd you are. Issa. You ought never
to be a society woman, if you are going to hate
more than half the. poop c you meet, and not
want to fulfill any social duties.”

“I have no desire to he a society woman!”
said Issalene, contemptuously. “ 1 only go in
society, this year, because papa and mamma de— ,
sire it. But, to have the greater part of my lif e ‘
filled by the demands of other people upon my
time is not my ideal of ha piness.”

“ Oh! you have an ide !” laughed Blanche.

 

 

“ Do tell me what it is!” -

“ To marry a man I love and devote my life
utter] to him!” announced Issalene, decidedly. ;

“ O couise, every girl when she marries, '
ought to make her husband the chief considera— ,
tion in her life, but that need not prevent her
from maintaining her position as well. Your
ideas are ridiculously romantic. Would you be
so devoted if 7on married Mr. De Laney?”

“Mr. De rcy!” exclaimed Miss canfrcy, .
angrily. “ I think it- is positively rude of you, I

Blanche, to mention his name so often, when
you know how I despise him, and even to hear
of him!”

“But you see I cannot very well help men-
tioning him, when he comes here nearly every
week.”

“ But you know that I take excellent care not
to see him l” . .

“Yes, 1 know,” said Blanche, dryly, “that
you take cxccllent care to let mamma and I en-
tertain visitors of whom you are not ovur fond;
but I think that it would be an evidence of im-
proving good manners in you, if you would as—
sume a little of your own responsibility in re-
gard to visitors who come pro-eminently to see

you.”

"But I sha’n’t see him I” said Issalene, defiant-
ly. “ So you can spare yourself any more talk
about it; and aunt Lorrimer )nay tell him so,
and advise him to quit visiting here, as quickly
as she likes."

“Oh, you ma chan 0 your mind in regard
to him, y and ’y; an it would be a shame to
have senthim leyond recall,” said Blanche, with
provoking coolness. “ But you have not asked
me concerning the rest of~ my news. ”

“ I suppOsed that you had told it all,” replied
Issalene, sulkil '.

“ Oh, no!
nounce.”

What young lady is not interested at the mr n-
tion of an enga ‘ement? Issalene forgot her
pique and glance up with quick inquiry.

‘Whore, ray 3”

“ Well, ossy Rodwell is en god, for one."

“ Oh, really! Then Mr. Wik 9‘ has succumb—
ed, at last, to the charms of her floating hairand
all her affected airs and graces.”

“ N0 !”/retorted Blanche, With a sli ht ring of
triumph in her clear voice, “ it is not r. Wilde
who has succumbed, but our dapper little Eng-
lishman, \Villis Leonard.”

“Oh! \l'ell, I would rather he should have
fallen into her hands than any of the other men
she tried to attract. HOW she did set her cap at
Mr. Richmond, and Henrion IVilde, and even
uncle Frederick.”

“ It is wonder that Carl escaped sect-free.”

“He (1 not. She laid siege to him in the be-
ginning, and gave him up in despair.”

“ Well, I suppose some one (lse was more suc-
cessful in laying siege to Carl’s heart. Agnes
Gardiner is engaged.”

“ nes Gardiner! Engaged! To whom!”

“ v, to Carl, probably!’

“And I think probably not!” rctorted Issa-
lene, decidedly. "I have excellent reasons for
believing that Carl Van Alst has not the slight-
est intentions of marrying Agnes Gardiner.
Whv, don’t you kn0w t at the Gardiners are
really poor? Thev just manage to keep in so-
ciety, and when Mrs. Gardiner dies A es will
not have have a cent in the world, as t e p
erty upon which they live will 0 to an o d
uncle, the last 'malo Gardiner. ‘arl told me
this himself; and do you think he is likelyto
marry such a. 'rll"

“ I do not ow why he should not. Miss
Gardiner is of a good family, and a perfect lady,
and Carl has monev enough to marry whom e
pleases. It was arion Dare who told me. I
met her upon the avenue—she has come to
spend the winter with the \Vildes—and when
she said Miss Gal-dint r was engaged I never.
thoughtto ask her to whom, for I supposed of
course it was to Carl. Still. as Eon say, he may
not be the favored one. Miss ardiner is las-
cinating and greatly admirer]; and 1 have heard
that she has a great man offers.”

“ She isn’t my style!’ said lssalene, with a
little sneer.

“Of course not!” laughed Blanche. “Who
is, I wonder! By the way,‘Mrs. Wilde 'ves a
dinner next week, a‘ ver private littlea air. to
introduce to a few frien a new candidate for
social favors—a Mrs. Chandor, who has quite a
romantic history.”

“ Mrs. Chandor!” cried Issalene, with a little

have two engagements to an-

start.

“ Yes; her husband is a wealthy young
Frenchman, and she, Marion says, is a perfect
little fairy. He met and married her South,
somewhere, and they have lived under an as-
sumed name, for fear his fat-her would disin-
hcrit them. But now the father is dead, and
they are very wealthy, and will settle in New
York. Mr. Chandor is in Europe and will not
return until next month; but she has been visit-
ing the Gardiners, and has rooms with them at
the Everett House; and now Mrs. Wilde has
taken her up.”

“Mrs. Wilde must always have some one to
pet.” said Issalene. “ When is she going to give
the dinner?"

“Next Tuesday; and we are to be included
among the favored few.” .

“I doubt if I shall 0,” remarked Issalene.
“ I do not care. for such 'ttle dinner-parties; be-
sides, it is the very night before our ‘coming-
out’ ball. I suppose you and aunt Lorrimer
will gig, so I can easily excuse m self. B the
way, lanche, can we not go to Iadame m-
mouroy’s to—day to see about our dresses!”

“ I have been there, this morning, and given
all the orders for mine. I grew tired of wait-
ing for you to decide what you would have. ”

“I have decided now; but since you have
been. I will not trouble you to o a in.”

“ What have you chosen?” as “ed Blanche.

“A heavy silk of pale lemon color. trimmed
with the laces mamma sent me. And papa has
commissioned uncle Frederick to buy me dia~
inonds—ear-rings, necklace and bracelets, and
he is to go With me to-morrow to purchase
them.”

" You will be sure to look handsome," admit-
ted Blanche, “and to quite outshine me; for I
shall have to waive diamonds, and be contented
with the opals mamma is having reset for me.”

Just as Blanche made this honest confession a
servant announced:

“ Mr. Henrion “Eilde.”

“ Good-morning, Miss Lorrimer. Good-mom-
ing, Miss Sanfrey. I must beg your pardon for
the informality of this my first visit, but I did
not reach town until late last night, too late to
avail myself of the $Vilege of calling u n
you—though I knew t it was your recep 'on
evening. ”

“ I am sure we have only to thank you for
rememberin us so soon," Blanche said, with a
cordiality t at was so charming after her
hauteur of the last few days they had spent
together that Henrion was at his case at once.

‘ Oh, was sure to do that; all through Octo-
ber, while I was up in Maine I looked forward
to repewing our companionship of the past sum-
mer.

“ Then you have been away?” said Imlene.

“ Yes; John Richmond, and quite a party of
us gentlemen, thought we would try7 our hand
ata hunting expedition up in the .ackwoods;
and we have been roughing it finely.”

“ But you enjoyed yourselves, I suppose,”
said Blanche With a shade less of warmth in
her manner this time.

“ Oh, immensely! Still I must say I was glad
to get home. A little of that sort of life goes a
great \\ ay, and I am rather partial to civiliza-
tic-n myself. ”

“And the delights of feminine companion-
ship?" suggested ssalene, light] .

" Certainly; what would ci ' ' tion be with-
out that:” laughed Henrion. “And that sug-

csts that 1 accept verbally the invitation for
its. Lorrimer’s ball I found awaitin me at
home. Please present to her my comp ' ient~,
and say that nothing would induce me to forego

I the pléasure of flying her my respects u )OII

that occasion. though I understand at
that is to be a formal introduction of you young
ladies to society, I hopgou do not keep your-
srlves in such strict s usion at present as to
make a plan I have for to-morrow night a fail~
ure. I met your ardian, Mr. Van Alst, and
Carl Van Alst, att e club-room this morning,
and we agreed to make u an opera-party for to-
morrow night, to hear ucca. Mrs. and Miss
Gardiner, and my cousin Marion are geing, and
I hope that Mrs. Lorrimer and yourselves will
consent to join us.”

“ I canrot answer for momma, but I shall be
happy to acce t the invitation, and so, I pre-
sume, will Is. one.”

“ Certainly,” said Miss Sanfrey.

 

“By the way,” said Ilenrion, when, a few
minutes later he arose to leave, “ I suppose you
have heard of Miss Gardiner-’3 engagement to
Carl Van Alst'!”

“ch, I met ‘Marion this mornin , and she
told me,” responded Blanche, as e walked
slowly with him toward the hall.

When she turned a ain Issalene had left the
parlor, and Miss Lorrimer exclaimed bitterly:

“He tells of Agnos's engagement, but he
neVer mentions Miss ltodwell’s. I “ onder if he
could have been in love with that girl! At
least I will neYer let him make me forget that
scene l” _

And by constantly recalling the picture of
those two fi'tln es she had seen in the moonlight
at \Vilde Manor, Blanche endeavored to steel
her heart against the man who was so near to
winning her love.

CHAPTER XXI.
CHECKMATED.

ISSALENE was not well the evening of the
opera—party; she complained of a scvcre head—
ache al‘ter going earl ' with her uncle Fi'edrrick
to select her diamon s, and declined to accom-

an ' her aunt and cousin upon a round of calls.
go Mrs. Lorrimer and Blanche went together,
and paid a visit of congiatulation to Mrs. and
Miss Gardiner, and consulted Madame Lem-
niouroy again concerning the (li'eSscs [or the
party, and completed sone other arrargcments
.cnding to the success of that ccmmg social
event.

As soon as Blanche reached home, she ran up
to her cousin’s room. The apartmei‘t was dark-
ened, and Issalene was tossing restlesst upon
the bed.

“Issalene, are vou no better? Shall you not
be able to go to the opera tonight i"

“I have no desire to go,” said Isralene,
pcevishl .

“ Wh , what is the matter?” asked Blanche,
anxious , as she caught a glimpse of lssalene's
frightful ' pale face, from which her dark eyes
gleamed everishly. “Is it only ‘our head’s”

“Of course it is only my head, ‘ returned the
Cuban girl. again tulantly. " You don’t
think that I’m sick. 0 you? Peeplc don’t get
sick so easily, and just when they want to.”

Miss Lorrimer could not but believe that
something more than a mere headache ailcd
Issalene, to make hcr look so wretchedly and
talk so strange] . Still she knew that her cou-
sin was posse of anything but an amiable
disposi' 'tion when any i] troubled her, so she
thought best not to question her further, but
commenced to tell her, in a livel way, where
she had called the society gossip s e had heard,
and the further arrangements that had been
made for the bull; to all of w hich Miss Sanfrey
listened with few comments; and, finally, after
asking what she should send up for dinner, Miss
Lorrimer anon to go. As she reached the door
she stopped, suddenly.

“ Issalene, who do you suppose is to be one of
our rty to-night'f" ,

“ ho!” asked Issalene, indifl’crently.

“Jack Jaflrey! I have not seen him, until to-
day, in an age: and he used to come here so
much when we were school-girls.”

Miss Sanfrey made no answer to the an-
nouncement, so Blanche closed the door softly,
and 1elt her to herself. But the moment. that
her cousin was out of her room, lssalene spiung
from the bed, and commenced pacing the floor.
muttering, fiercely:

“Vl'hat does sl.e want to come here for, and
talk to me about Jack Jeffrey, or any one wl.o
was connected with Alan, and those dear old
days! For they were dear days!" she said, step—

ing befoxe her long mirror to regard her white

ace and glitterm e rs. “ch. dlfil‘ (line!
though he was making ove to that “'allbridge
‘ ' 1. But be tired of ier—she was just the girl
fora man like Alan to tire of—and there was
hope for me until this new fancy of his! But
now he will never love me! Never love me?
And yet has he not 'ust lately told me, ina
thousand ways, that ie loved me? But men
like Alan Torrence are never true! I ought to
have known it! \Vhat a fool I Lave beta to be-
lieve in him at all—to be for one hour l.is on !
But he shall find that I am not to be tr' ed
with; that because he has not written to my fa-
ther, nor 8 ken to uncle Fiederick, and openly
asked my and, he cannot fool me at his will !”
and she clenched her little hands, and resumed
her rapid walk, her face fairly livid and her
eyes blazinglirvith pamion.

And all t ough that evening she nourished
her fierce resentment, even as she had for years
nourished her fierce love, for Alan Torrence.

Through this last year of her life Issalcne’s
long-cherished hopes of one day winnin r Alan’s
love had seemed well—nigh fulfilled. In eed, al-
though she saw much less of him than in her
early school-girl days, she had believed that her
ho were already a surety, when, suddenly,
ha come to her a rumor that Alan’s affections
wcre engaged and promised elsewhere; still she
would not admit to her own heart that Alan
could deceive her, until she had been suddenly
assured that this contemplated marria e was in
society an accepted fact! And now w at- “ ere
the loves and hates of other, what were society
fetes and triumphs, compared to the desolation
and the fierce desire for revenge that seared the
ungovernable nature of this girl?

hen Alan Torrence received, one morning,
at his club-room, a delicate envelope bearing
Issalene’s superscription and crest, and contain-
inga note requestin that he would spend the
evenirg alone wit her, the night preceding
Mrs. Lorrimer’s ball, he understood, yerfectly,
that the Cuban 'rl was summoning him to a
wrathful interView. He knew that lssalene
could not fail to have heard of his intended
marriage, and that she would not easilv relin-
quish the claims she believed she had on him b '
right of the tender flirtation of which he had,
for a diplomatic reason of his own, made her
the victim. He thought, too, that he understood
her stormy Cuban nature, and her utter im-
placableness, if he failed to 143 true to the ex-
pectations he had p ly allowed her to
cherish; still he knew t at he must break his
lance With her, and did not fear but that in the
bitter warfare he should conquer. So he wrote
her a note, saying that he should not fail to keep
the appointment.

The Tuesday of Mrs. Wilde’s little dinn' er-
party came, and Imalene declared her intention
of remaining at home. When her aunt and
cousm' were one, and she had given orders to
the servant t t one only visitor was to be ad-
nnttcd, she went into the parlor, and pacing
ceaselessly up and down, waited excitedly for
Alan s coming.

She knew his rin 'ng footstep upon the pave-
ment, and the tone of his hand upon the door-
bell, and. suddenly stood still—a proud, rigid
figure, With gleaming eyes and carnation-dee
cheeks, while he came smilin' g and debomtau'
into her presence.

“ How kind of you, ISSalene, to deprive your-
self”of a party, just to stay at home and see
me.

“ Do you think so?” said Issalene, fierily; and
then. her eyelids drooped, and the flame of her
passion flickered low for the moment. In his

resence, the consciousness of her love overcame

or a time her furious anger. “ Do you think,"
she asked, changm' g her tone “there is any—
thing in the wide world I we (I not deny my-
self for your sake?”

“I don’t know,"he laughed, throw' him-

self into an easy-chair, despite the fact t at Ia
salene still stood; “women are so given to mak-
ing rash promises onlélto break them.” ‘
. “Alan!” cried the ban girl, suddenly fling' -
mg herself at his feet, and wreathin her arms
about him, and lifting her glowing face to his,
“ do you not know that I would do anything' for
your we?”

_“And what if you would!" he asked, forcing
himself to regard calmly the g10w1ng' , trembling,
passionate girl.

“1‘ by, is such love a small matter! Think
you any woman ‘will ever give you such mad,

ervent passion, as I can bestow?”

“But suppose i do not care for such love—
suppose I am weary of it?”

“ Veary of it?” exclaimed Issalene, scornful—
ly. “ How could you be weary of it? Do these

 

 

 

icy Northern W( men understand in the hast
w at love is? Elise may have u curled you “ ill)
her babyish fondness, but what did she, a little
Puritan, with milk and valor flowing in her
veins know of love like mine!"

. “I ush!” he commanded, impatiently, fling—
ing aside the tiny hands that w are clasped upon
his breast, and pushing from him the brautil'ul,
quivering fox m. “ You have no reason forcuip-
lmg my name with that of Elise “'allbridpe
at (1 no authority for doing so! And 1 won!
advise you to get up, as my fair afliancee might
not care to know of a young lady kneeling to
he in this absurd fashion!”

“ Your ofliam‘eq I" C! ied Issalene, sprin ing to
her feet. her face gaown pale v. ith rage. ‘ What
right have you to talk of any one as your afii-
mince, after all yr 11 have so id to mel’

“ After’all that I Have said to you! I believe
I never said anything about marrying you, and
v« u were as well posted in flirtation: as myself,

sralene!” ‘

“ But, there was no flirtation between us!
You did not intend me to understand it was
such! You knew, to commence w ith, that I had
loved you for years, and you made me believe
that you rcciprocated that love!”

“ho matter what you think I intended you
to believe, I know that I said nothing that, a
man might not lay, to a girl u hem he had
known intimately from her childhm d. (‘cr—
tainly, l have never had the slightist intention
of asking you to be my wife, so, unless you
have something of more importance to say, we
had lctttr terminate tl~is interview."

“ But I have something of importance to lay l”
regarding him with stony calm. “Since \ on
have seen fit to trifle with my love, you shall
find out how you like mv hate! ’

“Ma cherc Issalene,” he said, tanntingly,
“hate is not a pleasant passion for a lady to in-
dulge; but I assure you that I do not mind it an
much as you may suppose.”

“ We will see! You said, a minute ago, that
I had no authority for couplii‘ your name n ith
Elise II allhridge’s. Sn posefi tell you that I
have a rositive proof flat you were the man
who in need Mrs. Chandor to desert her hus-
band! And I tell Elisc's story, and your storv,
tothe won‘an ou propose to make ycur w e,
and show her these proof 5!” .

l “ You have no such proofs,” said Alan, cool-
Y-

“ I have l” cried Issakr-e, triumphantly. "I
have the envelcpe in which a letu-r was It nt to
Mrs. Chandor, the day that she left her hus-
band. I know that last summer you gave that
envelope to a lady u n a train coming frcm
I'Vashington. And I ave another pi oof a first
you, in the cover of a book upon whic you
wrote for tltis lady; and she can identify you at
any time. Do you think these are light proofs
to take to the woman you expect to marry!
Andwwill she be very likely to marry you
t ien. ’

“Listen!” said Alan,contemptuously. "You
think you have a strong case against me, lsra~
lens; but in reality you haven niiserabl weak
one. I will not even ask you how you vcame
pOFSl‘Sé‘td of thcsclapers: nor what credit you
think your statements will remive, if I anncunce
that belore mention of them you knelt at my
feet and sued for my love. But, sul pose I was
the man, who, as you sav, gave away this en-
velope—w hich I do not lxelieve you l‘Ol‘ any
one else can prove? That fact, alone, can DCVQ r
be any evidence that I was the iron who sent-
it to Mrs. Chandor. nor that have ever l'ad
anythirg to do with Mrs. (hm dc-r. You tell
this fact to my betrothed: it is the only (ne you
know against me; and even that you cannot
substantiate. Is she likely, whetLer sle is mar—
rying me for love. or for position, to let it stand
in He we ' of that marriage, w hen the engage-
mept has u made public aid the wcdding-day
set.

“ There is not one woman in a hundred who
would, at such a time, to influenced by such a
trifling matter. And my betrothed is not that
one woman. So I tell you, plainly. that you
had better sul mit to the inevitable, with lady-
like grace, and not make a laughing-stock of
yourself !" -

And with that very unpalatable advice, Mr.
Alan Torrcnce left lssalcne to the stinging con-
sciousrcss that she was checkuated.

(To be continued—commenced in No. 423.)

 

Poor__llina.

BY MARY REED CROWELL.

 

“nYOU'LL die within a year, and die sudden-

A sudden hush fell on the little roup of four
who a moment before had been aughing and
chatting joyously—a sudden hush of urccm-
fortable fear. that such quick-spoken, earnest
words would cause directed to an ‘bcdy.

Then Miss Nugent laughed—suc a deliciously
silvery voice she had—and bOwed ccremonious-
ly to be old woman who had beg ed, in return
for the substantial meal she had on givm in
the kitchen, to read the palms of the ladies and
gentlemen v ho were promenading the piazza in
the clear cold sunlight.

“ What a consoling prophecy! Bertie, aren’t
you heart-broken ?"

She flashed a cool, saucy glance at a grave
oung fellow who stood furthest from her—E -
pert Laurent, whose romance was lain cnoug

to be read in his handsome, serio s ace——tbe ro-
mance that was glorified with his love for Nina
Nugent—the ivorv-skinned, ebondiaired and
ebon-eyed girl, whose fresh, scarlet lips were

rted in a smile—such exquisite li vet that
never once et, in the three months 0 eir en.

gagement, met his in a kiss; sweet. tempt-
ing Ii 5, that always seemed to shrink away
from is ardent caresses. He worshiped her so
—to madness nearly. From the hour he had
first seen her, years and years b(fore. when
they were little more than children, Bertie Lau-
rent had loved her, while she-—

Her story was in her heart more than in her
sweet, pale face, although another one of the
little partv could See the patient quiet on her
face that did not mean the blessed calmness of
hang love.

y ney Darrell, whose bold, splendid eyes
con (1 read the girl’s heart as well as though it
had been an o n book before him—who knew,
as well as she ersclf did, or Bertie did. that the
lover to whom she was engaged did not possess
her heart. And Sydney Darrell also knew,
what Bertie Laurent did not know, and what
Nina Nggent had no idea an one but herself
import , that he, himsel , had won her

ea .

Now, his blue eyes that were so bold so hand-
some, were looking at Nina’s face as she turned
toward Laurent, grave and half-horrified.

“It is nonsense, of course but don’t let us
have any more of it. Send her off, Miss Wal-
ter. rlease.”

Then, as the fair young hostess disrnksed the
woman, Laurent went up to Nina, almOst pale
with earnestness.

“ My darling, have you any conce tion what
thejfulflllment of that prophecy wo d mean to
me.

Darrell saw the little faint smile that met
Laurent’s low ken words—so low-spoken he
had not heard t em.

“ And to me, too, Bertie. Orly think of that!
Why I‘d mis the European trip papa has ro-
mi me, and the incx‘pressible pleasure o be-
ing Jennie Walters’s first bridemaid. not to say
many minor chances of terrestrial enjoy-
ment.”

Her words, her tone, were light and careless,
even to the ears of her lover, but Sydney
Darrell read the wistful woe beneath them both,
and great throbs of passionate jealousy seized
his heart as he thought how ' her than all do-
sire to be honorable and was the fierce
temptation to tell the girl ' love, and make
her confes her own, and bid her sacrifice Eg-
$011 Laurent rather than herself and himsel ,

While, that night, when Nina sat alone over

 

 

 

 

 

’W