Dolores

Tt waá getting dusk, and I conld hear the chnrch clook striking, across the ■water, six o'oloek. There were still faint streaks of red and bars of light in the western sky.and the new raoon hung like a sieklo overhead. I was country born, young and strong, and I knewno fear, though the road was lonely and there had been much talk in the village of gypsies and tramps, and the passengers in th coach coming from London had been robbcd not so many weeks ago. I had been a long way across the country, and Tiger and I hurried home, now thinking (at least, I thought, and Tiger was the most sympathetic of dogs) that before the clock struck the half hour we should besittiug comfortably by the fireside. The path ran for some little distance close to the Black Pond; the hill rose steep on either side of it ; here and there with a cluster of busbes, hei-e and there a tree hung over the deep water. In the iast fadmg twilight I could still see the rpfleetions sharp and clear. I was so close to tlie water that I could watch the little ripples on its surface. The path was muddy in pluces ; I picked my way cautiously from one dry spot toanother. Tiger was a few yards in front. of me. Suddenly he growled and doshed forward with a bound. "Tiger, Tiger!" I called, and even at the same momentl feit rather than saw thatadark figure was moving in front of me - moving swiitly, noiselessly, away from me under the shadow of the bushes. "Who is there?" Noanswer, only Tiger turned suddenly and slunk bacfc to my side. There were stories enough about the pond and its deep waters. Not so many years since a couple of lovers had lost their lives there ; it was said that the body of the girl had never been found. Sonxething I had seen, ani Tiger had seen it too. Could it be the eliost of that luckless maid? A low moaning souud feil on my rar; horror etrickeu I turned and flod U] the hill as fast as my feot could carry me. But I did not run far. "What is this?" asked my better self. "Phoebe Lyncombe, will you, the daughter of a brave soldier who died for his country, the wife of as true a sailor as ever sailcd on the King's fleet - will you turn coward and üy iu apanic? Return, andsee if you can help any follow-creaturo in misory. Return and face the danger, and God be with you." Some 8iich thoughts ran through my brain. I was al way soneto act on impulse, and I retraced my steps, walking with a bold front and beating heart straight in the direction of the shadow. I could see it now again, a tall figure - a woman's figure - in a long cloak. Once it stoppod and hid itself beneath a tree - Imust have passed by had not Tiger growled and shown his teeth. "Who are you?" I called in desperation - "teil nie. Are you ill? Can J help you?" Then in the silence of the evening it crept out of the darkness and glided quickly toward the edge, the veryedge, of the poud. "Take care!" I shouted, "the water is deep." For an answer it flnng off the cloak, ! threw up its arms, and plmiged into the j Black Pond with a shripk. One glance I had of a white face, the face of a beantifnl woman, lipr black hair streaming round her ; and then I rnshed to the water edge. beside mrself with horror. I was more than a mile from the village. I oould get no help - it was vain to scream. By good hink the dog was with me. "Seize her, Tit;er! seize her!" and as I raÍ8ñd my hand he sprang after the woman. A tree spread its branches far over the pond at this point. I crawled along a bongh as far as it would bear me, and Rolianging over the water managed to gain a firm hold of her dress. By Hoavpn's mercy the pond was not so vry deep at thÍ3 spot; I do not think th;it she was ever fairly out of lier depth, and she had not lost consciousness. How wo did it I cannot exactly teil you, but between us - Tiger and me - we got her out, shivering, but alive, on to the bank- moaning and wringine her hands but alivo, and, as far as I could see, unliurt. Thero was no time to question lier.I must get home- home to the warm fireside, and take her with me. "Come," I said, holding her hand tight in mine, "como." She liftedher eyesandlooked at me - they were wild with terror ; her lips moved, but she spoke"in a strauge tongue that I could not understand. I took np the cloak that lay on the ground and wrapped it round her, taking care that her face was turned away from the pond. I went my way very slowly, half dragging her, up the hill, and ever and auon she stopped to grasp I fr breath and to sob and moan. Half past six struck, and seven struck : foi e we reached the garden gate, with Tiger sniffing at onr neels. Mariara, the luusekeeptr, was there watching for me. She is a discreet woman ; I knew I could trust her. "There has been an accident; help me take the lady in," I said. Miriam asked no more : shfc put her arm around the lady and carried her fainting to her own room. We got her wet clothes off; Miriam lighted the tire and made a hot posset, (from my grandmother'sreceipt,) and little by little the t-tranger came to herself and opened her eyes, agaiu with the wild stare that I had seen beforp. How tbankful I was to be so far from the terrible pond! "Señora," she said, trying to sit up, "I will intrudo no more, 1 will depart. " , I answered her that she was too weak to think of departing, that sho wa a weieome guest, that she must sleep now, and to-morrow we would converse further. "As you will, Señora," she replied; "I oweall to you. 1 kisa your hand." And so her head feil back on Lm pil. - low and she could peak no moro for verv weariuess. A few moments later and she was fast asleop, with her dark liair spread aromid hr. lier dark eyelashes resting on her cheek. Her hands were olasped together as if slie were praying. Inoticed that they were white and boautifully formed. On one of them slie wore a broad gold ring. How did she come to bi' wandering alone by the Black l'ond ? Who was she? Whenca did she come? I was thankful - ah ! verv thankful - that I had been there to help her at that awful moment. The tears sprang to my eyes as 1 stoopedand kis sed her. Miriam is my own dear nursR, who was with my mother as a girl, and lived with me dnrinq my husband's absence. He had sailcd inany, ïnany months ago (I write of the year 182-) for a long cruise. She persuaded me to ehange my wet pelisse, she combed and bru.shed my hair, and roassured me about the strange lady. Not till then did I know how very tired I was. My visitor passed a rcstlessnight;for days 9he lay in a fover. shivering and talkingfast. Now and then she burstout into brokeii English,asking loracertain Captain diarios Wal teis over and over again. Ho had lotlings at Plvmouth, it wonld neem, and she ?ould not find the house. Miriam is as clever a nurso as she is a good honeekeeper, and she nursed the lady with the greatest care. By degrees our patiënt recovered without the help of the doctor, who lived a good ton-miles' ride across the country, and of whose skill Miriam liad no high opinión. But she had many simple remedies of her own, andthe.esheused. and she made dainty dishes and cooling draughts, and at last there carne a day when the lady sat by the fireside, with a faint touch of color on her cheek, and thon she told na her story. I willinake it hhort, but I cannot make it less sad. Her name was Dolores de Riano; she was a Spauiard born, (as I had guessed,) an orphan, and she had been wooed and won by an English oflicer, whcise sbip lay at anchor in the port of Barcelona, hard by the house where she lived with an únele. (I, too, took an interest in Barcelona, as my husband had desoribod the place to me in his letters.) Thifl officer had married Dolores seeretly ; his ship had sailed. and he left her with her wedding ring she dared not show, and his address written on a slip of paper - "Lieutfnant Walters, 18 Melrose-terrace, Plymouth." And there she was to join hini as soon as he should send for her. Fot a whole year she had no tidings from him; then she took her passage to Plvmoutli in a merchant ship. They had a miserable passage, being delayed on th.i vovage. by adverse wiuds. Slie had flnally landed at Plymouth with a few golden pieces in her purse, friendless and alone. Sho hád asked in vain for Melrose-terrace; no one knew of such a stveet. or, indeed, of the existenee or lier husband, Lieutenant Charles Walters. After a few weeks her purse was nearly empty. She knew not where to turn for help. At last she thought to find her huslmudin London, and as slio could not pay her coach fare abe resolved to walk all those many miles. Then as she passed the Black Pond that evening, faint and suffering, she could no longer endure the misery and suspense, and she had rushcd into the water filled with a frantic longing to be at rest. Having told her story with rnany tears, she called the lioly stars to bless me for my poodness, (IrepeiJfc what she sai.l.) But my heart was full of anger toward the man who had so ill-treated her - tliia Charles Walters, as he styled himself - for neitlier Miriam nor I believed that he had given her his right name. I did not teil her this, of conrse, but I could not keep back what I feit in talking to Miriam. Mv face grew hot, and I clenched my hand as I cried, "He isa heartless traitor!." "There may be a misunderstanding, Madam; the lady trusts him still." ''I do not believe it," I cried ;"he has deceived her cruelly. " You see I was young, and spoke out what I feit. Miriam put lier fingors to lier lips, but it was too late. Dolores, from her couch in the next room, had heard me and called me to her side.. "Nevertheless. Señora, he is still my love and my husband. Tliink, Madam, if your husband should - " "My husband!" I exclaimed. "It could not be. But if it were possible that he could deceive me, I wonld never speak to him again, or desire to become reconcjled." She sighed, and took my hand in hers, and prfssed it, How pretty she wa3 ia a gray gown of mine, adorned with a bunch of rose-colored ribbons. Day by day she grew more lovely, and day by day I discovered fresu virtues in her. I had not any one to consult at home, so I went to our old clergyman and asked hini to write letters on Dolores's behalf, making inquirios coneerning her husband. This he did, and after some weeks the answers came, all with the same rcsult. No one had heard of Lieutenant Walters, and there was no such name on the list of officers in his Majesty's navy. By degrees we left off expecting to get any good news, ouly I cherisheda secret hope that when Ambrose, my inwband, came home - in a couple of months - he wouli throwsome light on the subject. Dolores staid on with me, and I learned to love her dearly. The neighbors were all ploased with her soceitv, and no one knew besides Miriam that I had found her on that Autumn evening by the Black Pond. After that there came bitter daya for me, Phcebe Lyneombe. It was Easter, and the good ship Thunderbolt was long duo at P.jmouth, and there was no news of h(jr. I had thought to have my husbnd with me beforo the primroses w re out, and now the hedges were yello i with blossonis and he never came. My unele, an old Admiral who resided at Plymouth, had long promised to sTd me a mounted messenger as soln as he should have tidings of the Thunderbolt, and (lay after day I stood by the garden gate and looked down the road in vain. In vay trouble, Dolores seemed to forget her own; she cheered me, boro with my fits of des]air, and was iu all ways like a loving sister during that dark iseason. Üne afternoon she had gone to the parsonage witli a message, and I sat trving to sew by the parlo window. The ivy was beginning to putfortb its young shools, a delicious perfume of violets was wafted in from the garden. The room was trim and orderly, a bowl of yelio-.v cowslips stood on a table by the side of ray inlaid work box - it was one of A nbrose's many presents. I saw myself refleoted i the mirror hanging on the wall opposite, vitting on a high-backrd ohair over my tambour frame, with my hair gathered high on my head, a handkeroluef pinned across my neck, and the puffpd sleeve of my white gown ending above my elbow. Behind me was the door ; even as I looked it opened quickly. There was a step I knew, tlie sound of a voice I loved : "Where are you? Phcebe, mywife!" No more sighiug over tho frame, no more gazing in the mirror, no more watching for tho mesflénger; btfore I could well jump from mv seat he was thera, bis faca was elosn to my lips - Well, it is Dolores's story that I am telling you, not mine. Safe, safe home at last, and there had : been no mishap beyond oontrary winds; he had outridden tiie messengi?r on the road. The time pasned qnickly. As we sat side by side lookiag out on the landscape, the hills and cíales all green with the freshnesa of Spring, lic took my band again in bis, aud then I notic cd tliat he wore a ring tliat I liad never Been before. "Wliat a magnificent ving, Ambrose!" I said, buiding bis band up to the light that I might see it better. It was ol foreign workmanship. onriouslj ohased, and in the centre was & flashing stone stt in diamonds. To my surprise Ambrose did not answor at odcr, but looked troubled; at last he said: "I cannot teil you the whole story of tbo ring now, deai'est Pha:be; it belongs toiny brother Charlford, bo is ill at Plymonth ; toniorrow vmi sball boar all aboutit." Ikaew t!iat Charlford's mad freaks and misbehayior bad long been a cause ol anxiety to Ambrose, (Charlford was his youngest and bost bel o ved biother.) so I forbore to grieve bim with anuther word on the subject. "Is that our cood Miriam at the door ?" asked Ambrose presentlv. Tliere was eertftinly a step in tho pessage; but wben I went to see Miriam I found hor in hor own room at the further end of the house. Afterward 1 remoinbered that some one bad passed along the I hedge and gone out at the garden gttte, but at that time I took no notico of the occnrrencp. When the supper bell rang I began to wonder where Dolores could be. It was long pa:t het usual liour for returning. At last I sent a maid to the pnrsonage bidding lier has ten home. Alus! sho hnd i e ft, an hour ago. We seai'ched all through the house, in the garden ind paddook; it grew dark, and I oonld no longer conceal my distress. Ambrose, too, looked grave. He went with the coachman, and they made inquirios iu the villuge; they even walked as far as the Black Pond, but they found no trace of Dolores. There was nothing to be done; we could but wait for tho morning. when mv trasband said that. ho wonld himsolf ride to Plymonth and Beod out mounted messengers to sconr the country ; she could not be far off. Very early tho next day a little pioce of paper was brought to jne. With dilficulty I deciphered the worda that were written in pencil : "Dear ar.d honored Señora - Do not seek to find me. I shall never return. I have lef t with my free will. Evor and ever will pray for you yonr dovoted and ungrateful servant. I kiss your hands and your feet. Dolores de Riano W liters." Ambrose was always a man of few words. He made no comment on the letter. Very shortly he bade me a loving farewell, and set forth on bis journey. I spent the day alone, hoping for the return of Dolores. Surely, I said to mysolf, Ambro.se, or one of the men, must find her soon - she could not walk far, and there was no coach to be hiretl in the village even if she had the means to engage one ; and I knew how slender were the conten ts of her purne. Why had she left me? Was ber brain nnhinged by tronble? Would she again seek toput an end to lier life? Late in the afternoon I wrapped a maiitle ronnd me and wen! out to broathe the air. Porhaps I should meet one of the party and hear the news that I dreadod and vet longed to hour. The gorse hedge at the end of the garden gleanied golden in the sunlight as I passed ; the bed of the sun dial was red and blue with flowering hvacinths ; the ferns in every difoih and every stone wall were puting forth their brown and green fronds; the air was f all of the sounds of Spring. Tiger was baaking in the sunshino by the gate. "Tiger!" I cried, struck witli a new dea, "find her, good dog; Seek Dolores !" He seemed to understand at pnce wben I fetched a scarf of hers and held it up to hiin. Withont more ado he set off down the lane and took a short ent across a field to a neighboring wood. Every now and then he stopped and licked my hand as I followed close behind hini. It was warm and Rheltered in the pine wood the ground wasslippery with firneodles. The dog went on steadily toward a pile of fagots that wero staeked against a low stone wall. On the other side ran the high ruad to Plvmouth. Here the earth was carpeted with green moss. I stepped uoiselessly a-ross the open space, thinking to clirnb the wall and make my way home bv the road. Tiger had pricked np lus ears - there was a sonnd of horses' hoofs: pernaps it was Ambrose. For the moment I forgot that I was seeking Dolores, but as I neared the wood staek I saw her. Her head was turned away from me, and she was leaniug over the wall witli clasped hands, strainiug her eyes in the direction of tlie riders. Tho clatter of the hoofs drew nearer. "Dolores!" I cried, running forward, "why rtid you leave me? I have been ro nnhappy about you. Comehooie with me now." She turned and I saw her dark eyes were ilashing witli a staange light; she grasped my arm and pointed down the road. "So alike," sho murmured; "child, forgive me! So alike, and I saw my ring on his finger. Look, look ! whois'it?" I looked. Ambrose had Keen me alroady; he was waving his hand; by his side rode a man whose face I seemed to know - a man who looked weary and dusty. Younger, yes, handsomer tlian my hnsbund, but careworn and ill. He wore a slouchnd bat. I could not dis tinguish his features, and yet :is he sat there in the sunlight I knew that they were familiar to me. "Who is it?" asked Dolores, more eagerly than before. "My liusband." "Whioh is your husband? For the love of heaven !" "Ambrose Lyncombe," I answerod, fairly bewildered; "the man who is wavnig bis band- the one nearest to the wall." "Tiiauk Ood! thank God!" Her beautiful face was radiant with joy, Tben I saw my husband speak a few low words to bis oompaoion, who drew rein and dismounted from his horse. He was very lame; he could hardly walk, but there was no ueed for him to take many steps. Dolores had swung herself over the low wal! and was running to meet him with ontstretched hands. "Curios, my beloved, weieome !" she oried," "querida marido mió!" "Forgive me, Dolores, forgive me, ' ■was all he said, and her loving arins ere round his neck, her head resting on liis shoulder. Then, as he looked down upon her, his face glowing with emotion - then I saw the likeness again, stronger than before, and I knew that Charlee Walters was tho same maa asCharlford Lyneunibo, my husband's youngor brother. We feared a return of fever for Dolores, bntshe recovered speedily from her fatigue. Charlford, indeed, has always been an invalid since, partly in coaseqnenoe of an accident that he met with abroad. The illnessthat followed first leJ him to remember his deserttd wife, and mak an efl'ort to - however, he ia Ambro8e's brotber, and through all her trouble Dolores still clings to him. - Belgravia. 'IT-e London Times has editorially stated, apropos of the coming of age of tho eldest son of the Princo of Wales, that he will reign, if ever, as Edv.-ard VIII, whicb indicatea that tho Princeof Wales on his ooronation will drop his father's name of Albert, and ba knoAvn ns Edward VII. TheEnglish people are thoughttobepleased with tUis prespeotivo returo to un historio title.