The Gypsy Queen's Vow

ung-I loved

d forgive me

wni

e of the crime for which he was condemned, and his sa

perished forever in the stormy sea, Reason, already tottering in her half-crazed br

face of the lonely woman, as on that last night she had groveled at his feet, shrieking for that mercy he had refused. Proud, stern man as he was, no w

ought of him as he knew him first-proud, princely, handsome, and generous. And now! that young life, under the unjust sentence of the law, had p

as gone, and happy days might dawn for her yet. She might love another now, without feeling it a crime to do so-one noble and generous, and worthy of her in every way. One deep breath of relief, one low sigh to the memory of his sad fate, an

as Lady Ma

oved him, but, believing the obstacle to be merely an imaginary one, he hoped on, and waited for the time to come when this singular fancy of hers would be gone. That time had come now. Calling, one morn

in," he said, his fine eyes lit up with pleasure. "She has been s

ncholy,' he would forgive me any pain it may ever have caused him," she

this mystery to end? Am I never to be made

ily-leaf, and it was no longer withdrawn, but nestled

s your dark dream, then, in reality over? Oh, Maud

orgive and forget the past, I am yours, E

heart whose every throb was for her-her head upo

, this is too much happiness!" he cried, in a sort of transport

s embrace, and gently extri

n forever bless you for this!" he fervently

nd, not daring to meet the full, falcon gaze, flashing

hose precious words from your own sweet lips

hile he seemed breathing out his v

ret-do you not wish to hear it?" she faintly s

o tell it. I want to hear not

my lord, you may reject

ing under heaven co

d all. I dare not accept the noble heart and hand you of

You, who are as perfect in soul as in

ut oh, how shall I tell you? How can

r head dropped on her hands, and her fair bo

hidden in his breast, and then pressing his lips to the dark ripples

ill convince me you are not as pure and unsullied as the ang

the harder!" she passionately cried. "And yet it must be made, even though you should

dear

s not m

t, M

ough you look as if you thought so. I have been mad once!

name do you mean?

have been a mothe

au

deserve it-I deserve it! but oh, Lord Villiers, it wil

are yo

ef-crazed brain, a blighted life

o young-not yet eighteen! Oh, it can

not! Yet four years ag

at eighteen! Maude, Maude

woman's strong, undying affection, but with the wild, passionate fervor of youth. I must have in

ld hardly have believed a messenge

long life of sorrow and remorse mus

his unlooked-for avowal. He had expected to hear some light, trivial fault, magnified by a morbid imagination; but not a clandestine marriage. No man likes to hear that the woman he

on the drooping figure and despair-bowed young head; and the anguished attitude went to his heart, bringing back a full tide of pity, love, and forgiveness. All was forgotten, but that she was the only on

my breast. If you have erred, so, too, have I-so have we all often. I will

ll? Oh, Lord Ernest!" He kissed

arest. Who was my M

form he held. He felt her breast heave and throb as i

aude, for I

I? Oh, Lord Ernest! this humili

Maude! for

dropped her head heavily again; for in that fixed, grave, noble

ho was the husband

a dying whisper, dropped the word

t Villiers seemed turned to marble, and still motionless as if expiring,

up, my precious Maude; for nothing on

empest-tossed soul, the low words fell; but o

ssion of grief, "cease this wild weeping. Forget the troubled pa

g passion of grief had passed away. He let her sob on in quiet now

t, thanking him by a radiant look, and th

e," he softly whispered. "Some other time, whe

will ever breathe one word of the dark sorrowful story again. Oh, Ernest! can all the fond

peak of that no more. But now that the w

ing, fascinating, he took every heart by storm, winning love by his gay, careless generosity, and respect by his talents and well-known daring. I was a dreamy, romantic school-girl; and in this bold, reckless boy, handsome as an angel, I saw the living embodiment of my most glorious ideal. From morning till night we were together; and, Ernest, can you understand that wild dream? How I love

he was too presuming, had forbidden me to associate with him. One day we went out dri

s of an infant, and seeing a baby face, with the large, black, beautiful eyes of Reginald Germaine. I turned my face to the wall and wept, at first, in childish grief; but he caressed and soothed me, and I soon grew calm. I thought, at the time, a strange, unaccountable change had come over him; th

hter of a race that had mated with royalty hitherto-had fallen so low as to wed a gipsy! I shrunk, in horror unspeakable, from the black, bottomless quagmire into which I had sunk. All my love in th

r you, I felt the strong, earnest love of womanhood. You loved me; but I shrunk from the affection my very soul was cryi

ll, exactly what I felt. His name was the theme of every tongue; and day after day I was forced to listen to the agonizing details, knowing-low as he had fallen, guilty as he might be-he was my

thout sinning. I determined to tell you all, and to love you still, even though you spurned me from you forever.

ent eyes were full of untold love-of

sorrow and shame. We will never speak or think of it more, sweet Maude. Germaine has gone to answer for what he has done; if he has sinned while living, so also h

s the sole

of further delay? When sh

urs now," she answered, with all a woman's devotion in her deep