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HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Herald, 1909-01-08, Page 9.s�i}dr^aC.tk-•4rA�,'k n: V, .4 bn,m 5447 r lP+r'�,, '.iK+•. fit' "woes mew seieN,, She could not define the pain that made her heart ache. It had been so pleasant to gaze all unseen upon that dark., handsome face—to see the eyes fixed so intently upon Serranto, and to know that the wish to see her had brought the gay yuong cavalier there. It was something to break the dreary monotony of the long • summers' . day. Now it was all over, hot tears fell from the dark eyes, when suddenly she heard, the sound, not of one horse, but of two, coming swiftly along the road from Se- ville. Both riders paused at the well- known spot, and then Iuez heard a deep, musical voice saying: "This is the place, Luigi, where I saw her, and I shall never forget her. I should lose my reason if I thought I was never to see that face again.' • "What was she doing here?" asked his friend. "Looking over the shrubs into the high road," was the reply. "When I bowed, site blushed. Why, to see such a blush is worth living for." "Why do you not inquire what the place is?" asked the one called Luigi. "It looks something of a wilderness, but a very pretty one." "I have," replied his friend. "The house is further down, and both house and lands belong to Madame Monteleone, and she in her turn, as I need not tell you, belongs to one of the noblest fam- ilies in Spain. I made all inquiries, but no one knows much of them. They lead a >;ery secluded life. This much 1 was told—that the young granddaughter who lives with her is the most beautiful girl in Andalusia, "It was the granddaughter you saw, 7 suppose," interrupted Luigi. "I should imagine so,," said the other "You must see her, Luigi -she is match Fess. I would go barefooted all over Spain to find her once more." "It is a serious ease, then," said Luigi, laughing heartily. "Do not plague me," was the reply "I tell you I love that young creature madly. and I will find her and make her love me, if I die for it." "Well;" said Luigi, "you must try again. You have no chane to -day; she is not to be seen." "I will haunt the place," cried his friend, passionately; "I will stay here day and night, but I will see her u ;ail. They went away and left Inez, her heart beating tumultuously. a new, vague, and delicious happinses thrilling her. What equal to this? Ceever had she dreamed whew `firlady" in the even. loved her. Surely she must bee couIdspute suchlove b�inif e! seeing thher at ?low cruel it was that her youth and her beauty should be kept prisoners, as it were, in this gloomy old ruin! Oh, if she were but out in the world! Love and happiness, pleasure and riches would all'be hers. All night the music of the words she had overheard rung in her cars and gladdened he: heart. Had she been treated as other girls, had she been allowed a fair and proper share of girl- ish amusement, this first little romance would not have produced so deep an im- pression upon her. As it was, her heart, mind. and imagination were absorbed in it. When the nest evening came, Inez did not go near the "haunted spot," She could not tell, she did not know whether it was timidity, pride or'eatnaiden bash- fulness that restrained her—probably all three. He had vowed that he would see her again; lot him discover the means. Yet she could not quite give up the pleasure of looking sometimes into the high road, and she even went in the morning when it was not likely he would be passing by. There was a change in the beautiful restless face that looked over the shrubs; there was a new brightness, a deeper beauty; the old scornful weariness had passed away as a cloud before the sun. She watched the gayly dressed ladies now with z smile. Who among them had won nisch love as she had done? At that very moment a voice near her murmured a thoueaud apologies for the intrusion. Turning round, she saw be- fore her the hero of her dreams. There was no horse, and it was morning, so that he enlist )eve been watching and waiting to see her, "I have longed so much to see you, signorina," he said, bowing almost to the ground as he spoke. "I wish to apologize. I fear I alarmed you the oth- er day by my bad horsemanship. I did not know that you were near.'" She hardly knew, in the confusion of the moment';` what he said or what re- plies she made to him, He found the face that had enchanted hint so lovely, so radiant, that he wast lost as he look- ed upon it. The fresh musical voice completed the charm, and Count Rinaldo Montaltieevelio had laughed all his ]]farm at love and lovers, found himself ens slaved by the first smiles of that beau- tiful face. He was too wise and wary to alarm her. When he had offered his apology he said how beautiful i'he grounds of Sorrento were, how mueh at some fu- ture time he should like to walk down 'that grove of orange trees he saw in the distance; and then, bowing still more profoundly, he took his leave. She saw no great wrong in it, poor child! At first she did think of telling Madame Monteleone, her heart was so full of triumph._ She must tell some one; but thea:, if she did so, it would be all end- ed. Instinet told her that this stern lady would never allow her to speak to a stranger in the grounds of Serranto, She would simply be forbidden to leave IMMILSISearane the flower garden, and her brief, bright dream of happiness would be over. No she must not tell. After all, her grand - mamma was old, she probably knew nothing of love and romance, she would not understand her; and, besides, it was no harm, because he loved her. Re made no apology the evening after that, when, seeing Inez in the distance, he sprang lightly over the shrubs, and stood by her side. Ile simply bade her good evening, and aeked her if she would show him those beautiful orange treees. She walked by hie side as one in a blissful dream. Something in his ac- cent caught her attention, and looking up at him, she said, "You are not a Spaniard, signor. You do not speak like one." Then he drew forth a richly emboseed card case; and taking a card offered it to her with a courteous bow. "1 must ask permission," he said, "to introduce myself. I am an Italian, as my name shows." She read the name, and thought to herself how beautiful and musical it was —"The Count Rinaldo Monteith" "Do you like Spain?" she :eked, half - timidly. "It is my Eden," he rent=ed quickly; "I have found here my Eve." Then he stopped abruptly, for he sew something like an expression of far rp- on the beautiful young face. "I did hope," he continued more grave- ly and courteously, "to have the honor of seeing Madame .Monteleone; but I am told she is still an invalid. I must wait for better fortune." A look of great relief showed the young man he had spoken wisely. "Do you know Madame Monteleone?" she cried. "I am so glad." "I do not know her," he replied; "but I hope to see her es soon as she is able to receive visitors." These fewwords • removed the only shadow i -hat had veiled the brightness of her joy. Ile was so skilful, so wary, he would have deceived a far more worldly-wise girl than. I:fez, who only knew life from books and dreams. He did not even go so far as the orange trees, but left her in a few minutes, saying that if he were so fortunate as to see the signorina an- other evening in the grounds when he had more leisure, ho should pray to be allowed the happiness of speaking to her. CHAPTER XVIII, It was the old, old story—told some- times under the shades of Italian vines, among the myrtle trees of Spain, or in the green glades of old England—always the same—full of music, poetry and romance ---always making the earth fairer and life a. golden dream. And now the beautiful, gifted, imag- inative Inez was listening to the familiar chime of loving words. Life had grown so bright and clear she wondered at tithes if the world could be the same -- had the skies been always as smiling, the sunshine always as bright? 'What was this golden radiance that had fallen around her, dazzling her eyes with its beauty? Only the glamor of love, that had fallen upon thousands of innocent hearts before, and will so fall until human hearts grow cold and beat no more. There was no monotony now. The bright summer days were not long enough for her dreams. She had to muse over every loving word, every sigh, every admiring look bent upon her. For it had now become a regular and established rule, after the great heat of the after- noon had passed, for Inez to take her book and read in the orange grove; but the book was rarely opened, for before she had been there Iong she heard the sound of footsteps, and she knew that he was come. He sat by her side during the long summer evenings, and he wooed her with grace and skill beyond. words. He said nothing to her at first of love; he talked to her of the past grandeur an chivalry of Spain; of her gay knights, ]ler brave cavaliers, and her beautiful daughters. Ile spoke to her of his own Italy ,the land of music and song, of the grand old city of Venice, where his race, the Montaltis, had lived and died. They talked of music, of poetry, and of flowers, of all that was fairest and most lovely on earth; but as yet he, said not a word to her of love. Inez had long since ceased to remem- ber that there was anything wrong in meeting every day a stranger unknown to her friends. She forgot that she had ever fancied it to be ever so slightly wrong. What harm could there be in it? She was happy now --life had sone interest; before it had been a living death. Each day now brought its ac- complished wishes, its happiness, its hopes. The time was gone forever when she dreamed among the trees. The reality had- come, and she welcomed it warmly. But not always was Count Rinaldo willing to sit by her, to look in her beautiful face, and talk of fair cities and grand. poems. Ile was growing impatient to speak of his love. Yet, imprudent as she was, there was something in her child -like innocence that awed him. Day by day he grew more charmed and fas- cinated with her beauty, and found that life without her would be dreary, vapid and unprofitable. Ile knew the simple record of her life. He had heard the story from her own lips; and better perhaps than any otto else could have done did he understand and sympathize With her. Ile hones that a return to ingly lose sight of one w some interest rti 1]rizl plans acordingly. , Fret the history of the langli ,had, to use her own ll#un t Lge, "given away," when she Was a fe weeks and had never seen her sil.ee. But did not tell hint—for 84 ': id. net .k --drat the same father waa rich E ]ieli "milord." The count edncluded t Bianca Monteleone had married ben her, and that the father, unable unwilling to suppprh the child, had ab Boned her. IIad he lteowri the truth, story of Inez Lynne would never '11 been written. Re was determined to win her; the first and only time in his life Co 'Rinaldo was deeply and truly in 1 He determined to win her, even if gave up for that purposeall the in cherished plana and schemes of his 1 One bright evening, when .they met usual among the orange trees, the co looked sad and pensive. He seemed speak with difficulty, as though so great grief burdened his mind. sighed deeply, and his dark eyes wor dreamy look of sorrow. "Is anything th matter?" asked In gently. "You do not seers cheerful t evening." - Re evaded the question, but in a f minutes she asked it again. "Tell me, count," she said, "are y grieving or troubled?" ''hen Ire told her that the deepest s row of his life was upon. him; his hen was torn, for he found that he mu leave this sunny Spain, :where he h found. his Eden, and return to Veni "Leave Spain!" the aaitl, slowly, though the idea was difficult of rea union. "1 eave, never to return?" The color faded from the beautif young face, the dark, loving eyes gre dim with tears. She could not bear return to that dreadfully lonely 1if she could not bear to be left alone; was so sweet to be loved and eared fo He watched her intently as then thoughts rushed through h"r min something in that exquisite downeas face gave hi meourage. "It is a bitter grief to me," he Conti ued; "for, Inez, you must know ho much 1 have loved you. Froin the fir moment I saw your face, you have bee the star of my life. Leaving you is bitte death, for I cannot live without you." "Are you obliged to ,go?" she aske gently, as he for the first time elaspe her bands in his own. "Obliged? Yes.'" he replied; urgen affairs call me there. Need I say that will let them all go ---nay, 1 would giv my very life itself for one word fret you, my beloved. One word •from 'thus lips would more than repay me for al Tell me, shall I go or stay? He drew her to hitn, and kissed tl beautifel, girlish face that dropped u on his shoulder. "Tell me," he whispered. "1 ilr fo me. Shall I go or stay?" The breath of the summer wind +a not more sweet than the v oitc stem a ",u mored "Stay." Then he told her how dearly he 1 we her. Surely never did human lips t more passionate or beautiful love stet - than. those of Count Rinaldo—how he face had haunted him fn his sleep b night and his thoughts by day; she Iva always there; dreaming or waking, tit sound of her voice never left hint; ho he would be contented to throw awtt title and poseition, all his hopes of fu ture fame, and live only in the sunligh of her eyes. Such a tale. so eloquently told, whit the soft, south wind wafted to them riel fragrance, and the golden stns seemed ti smile upon then:, would have mover' far harder heart than that of lime Lynne. All the poetry and romance o her gifted nature were aroused. Who ever listened to a first love story un- moved? Not the beautiful, lonely child who had longed alI her life for love. Her heart thrilled with a new and delicious happiness, too vague and dreamy for worfds. She sat in silence, while he we may have to conceal our love, and when he had told it, the dark, love -lit eyes were raised to his face, and a little white hand was laid timidly in his own, "You will love tae, despite all, though me may have to conceal our love, and hide it from all human eyes?" said the count, "You will be true to me, darling, while I live?" "I promise," she replied; and in after years the words of that betrothal carne book to her with stronger force. "Give me one more promise. Inez," he continued, "assure inc that you will tell no one this secret of our love." Without the least hesitation she would never tempt her toher word. ubreak cit; and ,so elle too]: the first step hi the thorny path she had to tread. "I shall come earlier to -morrow," said the count, "and stay lunger. T. have -ntzch to say to you, Inez. Think of ate, belayed, unt::l we meet again." There was no need to tell her that. When had she ceased to think of hint since the evening she had seen hila first? Now all her dreams weer true, her vis- ions were realized; the .handsomest, the bravest. the noblest of cavaliers, loved her. how true and disinterested he must be, elle thought to love a lonely child, whom all the world had forgotten, She did not see the other side of the plc. tore; it never entered her mind that there was anything dis']tonorable in stealing the heart and love of a trusting, innocent child, in so coloring and dis- torting plain honest truths and facts, that what was underhand and deceitful atp.peared simply romantic—what was wrong seemed right, and even praisewor- thy. There are men who can so distort truth—and Count Rinaldo was one of them. These things never struck Teez, In her passionate love -dreamt all was beau- tiful and true; her lover was a hero, such as she had read of anti dreatned of, but never hoped to sec. He loved her as knights of old loved the ladies Who crowned them. What mattered to her now the Bold English father who had en her away," or the stern gloomy rdian who knew and cared so little o had given her Re laid his her he heard 11 'ether, who her old, she now ng - hat eath and the ave for unt ove, he ost ife, as unt to me He ea ez, his ew ou or - rt st ad re. na 1]- 111 w to it r. e d; t a - w et n r d. 1 e 0 to p- r r- d a y r w y t f that dreary monotony would be simply "giv g unendurable, that she would never will. na for the leanings of a young g'irl's heart? fe Sho was inrl]fferpnt to all, now her li was full of a ;rnlden light. • "I mullet th'nle what has cone ov that child," said Madame Monteleo to herself, 'She grows inure lovely e ery day. 1 aunyer eitw anything .1iketho eyes; something meat be done, 51 cannot remain burled heie. 1 will wa two months longer, and thon, if I a no better, 1 will write to lard Lynne." - These two months spoiled the life of Inez Lynne. On the morrow Count Rinaldo came, Re had so much to say. First' of all there AWLS a pathetic history to be given of his family, the Montaltis of t'enice— hocv in a political crisis that had hap- pened only twenty years before, when lie was a ehild in his mother's arms, they had lost the whole of their pro. perty, It was confiscated, and given to one of their most bitter opponents. The blow had killed his father, and his mo- ther Itad lived until he was twelve years old. Her small income then became his own, and on that he had subsisted, living always in the hope that at some future ady his lost possessions- would be restored to him. $o far, all was true; but here Count iiinatldo diverged from the broad line of truth into a narrow line of fiction. His friends, he said, were anxious to bring about a marriage between him and the only child and heiress of the man who held his estates, the young and beautiful Veronica di Giotto. Here again truth was interwoven with fic- tion. Veronica di Giotto really existed; but her father would sooner have seen her dead than married to the sen of one wltont he considered as a traitor and a rebel, 'Such a marriage, the count said would ultimately restore hint to his proper position. No doubt of his story crossed the young girl's mind. "And yon," site said. looking at him with her shining, lore -lit eves, "you give all this up for ate? How much you must love met" lie clasped her again to Itis heart, and told her he loved +her better than life itself. Still, had site looked at.him, she would have seen denim and hesita- tion in his eye-, indecision in the qui- vering of his hot. dry lips. Ile hardly dared to broach the subject he had in- tended to decide this evening, "Better do it," he thought, "While the tale 1 have told is fresh and vivid --•-it is my only chance," "So you will 11:tderstatu', my beloved," he said, "why .t beg your silence, at lewd for the. present- 1 should be both proud and happy to proclaim to all the world that 1 had won the great treas- ure of your love. But if it were known just now, it would ruin my cause for- ever. '!'hose friends who have espoused it would cease to feel any interest in the matter. In another year or two it will not signify. 1 wish our love to re- main a secret; and yet, lnez•-my love, my darling -•-I want you to save me from Veronica. di Giotto." "How can 1 do that,'' she asked, with e smile. Bind me fast to yourself," he replied. "When my friends renew the subject, let me have it in my power to say that 1 ant married." "Bur that would ruin your pro parte," she said quickly. "Not in that case." he said. "Yon must undcrsttaud, they suppose ute to be a stranger to their intentions; if they hear of my apprtrar•hieg marriage, they will interfere to prevent it. If they know nothing of it until they open these negotiai:icm with me, they cannot feel either sept i -e nr off 'n' a if I tell then: 1 am martial: they will think of some other Way to sr:rve me," Ile saw no etnii' on that beautiful young face; it an:rr' a imeiideted, ex_ pression. (To be continued.) er ne v - se to it m ATTENDED BY FIVE DOCTORS But Got No Relief Until lie Used Dodd's Kidney Pills. Wonderful Cure of A. F. Richard, Who Was Tortured by Rheuma- tism and Kindred Pains, Sets Kent County Talking. St. Ignace, Kent C'o., N. B., Dee. 23. -- (Special) --After being tortured for four ears with Backache, Rheumatism, Stiff- ness of tint ,joints and Pains in. the Loins, and getting no relief from five doctors whom he called in fir. Antoine P. Richard, a well-known farmer living near here, is spreading the good news that he 6 once more a well man, and thief he nice his cure to Dodd's Kidney Pill, Speaking of his wonderful cure Mr. Rkhard says: ".I was a h.11uess man in ,July, 1907. For four year, 1 had endured the great. est torture 'from 13aekacile, Rheumatism, Stiffness of the Joints and Pains in the Louis. I had ditrk civvies under my eyes my head meted and .i was often dizzy. I was attended by five doctor,, but not one of them could help ate. "Then I began to use Dodd's kidney Pills, and ether the first few doses I be- gan to improve. I need fonr boxes in all end now I am working every day on the farm a well man, I owe my wonderful cure to Dodd's Kidney Pills and nothing else." There is no case or kind of Kidney Disease that Dodd's Kidney Pills will not cure, - a. o. Widow Was Contrary. The editor of the Beanyille Clarion dashed wildly into the composing room and yellers at the foreman,: "Eh! Rank, hold that story of Widow Jones' death. She ain't died yet:" "How long you want me to waitri "Well, were eventing her death at any minute nonv." 'Gosh, that oil 'widow slevaye was the contttariest person in Beamine , muttered the foreman as he pied several dines lifts the type from tiro ferns,- weo the Jt010 Pb'heinfan A SCIENTIFIC WONDER., Tire Secret of a Famous Healing- Balm. ealing-.Balnx. The re -discovery of a secret that has late hidden in the dust of 20 centuries is an event full of fascinating interest, and the story et Zam-Buk, the world -tamed first-aid and aktn- eure will always oalist attention. Zam-Boar is the virtual descendent of those wonderful and mysterious herbal balms by the use of which tee manly athletes of Ancient Greece and the stalwart gladiatore of Rome ensured the healthiness and ready -healing of their skin, Many are the attempts that wore made to Produce a perfect balm far the skin, but only- in nlyin Zen -Bull has the ideal been realized. Since its discovery Zam-Buk has been wel- comed In mansion and cottage, and the peo- pie of two hemlewher•es realized that the have been ;placed in possession of an abso- lutely unique cure for akin complaints. The reasons for this triumph of science ars sImole and few. Taking a lesson from the Ancients, the proprietors of Zam-Buk first of all wisely decided that the ideal balm must be purely herbal and contain not the slight- est trace of rancid animal fats or poisonous aline als. Thus :Gam -Bull is made solely front rleh and pare essences obtained from certain rare mcdietnal herbs. These juices and extracts are prepared and refined by ingenious stdeotifie processes and then so skilfully blended that a unique, etfectiys, and yet perfectly natural preparation for dls- ix.11lita skin -disease is secured. Zam-Buk has an afftnity for the human skin such as no ordinary ointment or ltna- ntent can possibly possess. Besides sooth- ing pain and allaying irritation, It poaseesee unique antiseptic and germicidal qualltlee which virtually chase disease germs out of t4elt hiding places to the skin tissues; at the same time it purifies the pores and In- vigorates the natural functions of the skin to a way that 110 other preparation can. Zara-Buk solves in a perfect manner the 'emblem of always having handy at home or at one's work an ever -ready and reliable first-aid for eats, burns, scalds, bruises, lacerations, scratches, etc. Zam-Bukiswith- out equal for eczema, ulcers, plies, bad' leg, rir:%gwotm, scalp sores, festering sores, sprains. stiffness, poisoned wounds of alt kinds, face sore;, chafing, chapped hands, cold sores, frost -bits, sore feet, diseased ankles. and all itching, irritation and Inflam- mation. Zam-Buk Is a daily need in every household and is sold by all druggists and stares at fifty cents a box. Refuse harmful and den - strong substitutes sometimes "pushed" as be - "Just as good." VANISHED FARMERS. 1 Expedition to Discover the Lost Boer Trek. In Soutar Africa to -day is being discuss- ed the advisability of an expedition to discover the lost Boer trek which march- ed. out into the unknown and was swal- lowed up half a century ago. 'What occurred to the vast caravan from the time it started on its journey is ene of the mysteries of the Dark Con- tinent, and the numerous Dutch Boers to mneeted With the voyageurs still spec- ula to upon their fate. The trek, consisting of a large number of families, went north, taking 0 course that would bring them through the pre- sent Rhodesia. The older natives there speak of white people having journeyed through their country many years ago; but there is no record of the Boers hav- izta been opposed during their passage. The intention of the emigrants was to make for the lakes, Tanganyika being roughly about two months' trek away, and it is probable that they got into the countey GI the Masai, sines the natives about the Nyaitzas, like the Mate.bele, speak of a caravan having journeyed through their region in the days of their fathers. Mr. Rhodes took a very considerable interest in this mystery of the veldt, and one of the ambitions of his life was to have the missing families traced, and, if they were willing to return, restored to their friends in the Transvaal. '1'o this end. in 1890 he fitted out an expedition to be led by Adrian Hof- meyer, the pro -British clergyman, who had been removed from the Ibtch Church in Cape Town for political lea`s•" sons. Owing to the unrest that preceded the war, the expedition only reached the neighborhood of Crocodile Pool, and thus ended the only attempt ever made to find the lost families. Perhaps the late Sir Henry Stanley .- eame near to finding the trek. In con- versation with the present writer he said that when leading the Emin Pasha ex- pedition to the coast and when skirting west of the Mountains of the Moon he was informed by several distinct parties of Arabs that to the southwest of Lake Albert Edward Nyanza was a large lake several days' march in circumference, called Lake Ozo. The lake, which de un•„ known to geographers, is about throe marches in front the fringe of the great forest, and near it are the descendants of white men leading a pastoral life. It is possible that an attempt to dis- cover the settlement reported by the Arabs will soon he made; and should the people turn out to be the descendants of the Dutch families that went out into the unknown to get as far as possible from the British flag, one of the mys- teries of the .Dark Continent' will he cleared up. +o — Violent Conversation. The American—You say your brother dislocated his arm talking through She telephone? The 13iesielrman—Oui, monsieur: Jlta make too violent pasturel—Yoittonsi Statesman. Oso Only one *BRfMO QUiiltile" Tthnt Se wordurIv&1 ammo carn'CrV , tor the si stature Of 1L. W. ((MOM Used- i Wand over to aura a Ootid in line Der Pardonabie Crime. '1 "If I were to lass you now, vrould halve me arrested?" `What would be the tree? .Any woaddaesp.if,bOtt ?"—Meaarel dnt