Crawfordsville Daily Journal, Crawfordsville, Montgomery County, 10 January 1891 — Page 2

A LEGEND OK PESACOLA—BY MAURICK •niostrsos.

[CopvripJit. All rights rwoneJ.) CHAPTER I.

/'an/nir tlr la (Vui.vtV ,-asr to the sirr-face. A French vessel bound for Mobile was captured ami sunk by a Spanish cruiser Boon after the recapture of Pensacola by the Spanish fleet in 1719. One prisoner, a slender ami beautiful girl, was the only prize secured bv the victors. The fight had been a close ami deadly one. with a result not uncommon iti those days when a naval engagement at best was mere matter of broadsides and Nurding. Carrying fewer gens -.n 1 lighter ones than its adversary, and withal being much slower, I lie French vessel fell an easy lrev to its vigorous adversary. It went down with its colors living, however, while the Spaniards were in the act of boarding but before this the deck had been so raked by cannon ami muskets at short range that the brave little crew wen- nearlv all killc.l. so that ir was but a smoke grimed and bloody handful of them that cheered pluckily tbev sank in twenty fathoms of reen gulf water.

Pauline d-i la Chasie was saved from the fate of the vessel's crew by one tho-e strange, chances which now and again inject into real life the most impossible appearing elements of romance. She had rushed upon the deck, wild and disheveled, ju\-.! as the ship lurched for ward to go down. A young Spanish ofli cor. bearing the honored uamcof Cortes, saw her. and I his lovely apparition, hovering in the smoke of the last terrible broadside, impressed him deeply. His imagination, like- that of most youthful adventurers who were sailing the seas at that time, was a most iutlammable one. ready to tlare up vividly at every touch of the new. the strange or the beautiful. hat could appeal more forcibly or mure directly to the heart of such a youth at such a moment than the vision of a young girl, lithe, slender, tovclv. with white arms outspread, yellow brown hair afloat on the breeze, her pale face upturned, and her garments fluttering wildly, running across the bloody, corpse strewn deck of the sinking vessel against which he had just been directing Iris guns? Indeed, sc much was he afTected. he started forward and stretched forth his hands as if to reach and save her.

Not one of the stalwart French sailors was ever seen again after the water closed over the ill fated vessel: hut the beautiful and frightened voting girl, Pauline de la Chasie, rose to the surface and with her long, wet hair clingingcloseto her shapely shoulders and girlish bust, was seen tossing about on the short chopping waves. In some way her clothes hail caught hold on a fragment of spar, so that she had been kept afloat. Fortunately her instinct of self preservation had overborne her tear at the critical moment. ith desperate eagerness ami energv she clung to the bit of buoyant wood and was able to keep her head above the foam and spray of the noisy ami tumbling waves, albeit'she was scarcely aware of what she wis doing.

Cortes, whose habit was to spend no time in deliberating at the point of an emergency, called for men and quieklv had a lioat lowered. In a few minutes the girl, in a semi conscious condition, was on board the Spanish vessel, where she received every kind attention that chivalrous men could oiler under the circumstances. "lie shoo! to her nerves h::d been very great, not only on account of the tei riblc natiyv of the engagement and the results lollowing it, hut more on account of ihe peculiar conditions tinder which she had left France to go to the obscure li'.tle garrison at Mobile, on the then wild southern coast of America.

In those days love was something to live for ami lo die for. To be young ami in love meant that along wiili the youth and love v. mi certain romantic devotion which would turn .'lsi-Ie for ,10 obstacle, hesitate al no sacrifice. ami women. youth ami maiden felt that to go to the end of the world for love's sake wa« at. need the noblest of all tasks, the highest and holiest of all'duties. The influence of chivalry was srill alive- ami. although the formalities ofolden knighthood had mostly passed awav forever, there lingered 111 the -world, especiallv among the young and the brave, a spirit ot honor winch demand.-.1 extraordinary exact it udi* in file matter of keeping prom iocs, ami ejjjiecially ihose promises bound by tie. golden thread bf iovc,

Pauline de la Chasie at the time of the dir.ast.er to 1 h» veysel that bore her was on her way to joil' liei-.-soldier lover, one Louis I It meet, whose fortune |pid calleit hill) t.o .Mobile.- it would 1 ,e verv inteivitnig. if space and the.scope of this Morv would permit it, lo go back aud give th'.' details of this romantic love affair. which budded 111 the fairest partot southern ranee. at one of the old town.-, .hose ruins date beyond the time ben tie..-j»,ipu had his home iu Provence, and whose roses are still the very ones of a hich the troubadours raved. Wo must tie content, however, to trace the American part of A'liat must always remain one ot the ino.il noteworthy strains of romance connected with the settlement of our southern coast.

The grave historian, who scorns what­

ever is not dry 11s dust, runs over what he looks upon as mere incident, ami he turns aside from anything romantic or touched with sentiment, as though he feared some, lurking infepoVsa which might enliven his blood and send a thrill of poetry into his book must clouded mind. Still it is true that, to the large majority of readers, these personal incidents, these bits of romance that form the neglected fringe of history, are the very pares of the past which are most interesting. Pauline de la Chasie's experience certainly may claim the attention of this liljeral majority. It was a great undertaking in those days for a young girl not yet 19 to set sail with a crew of soldier seamen to go from

France to America, yet this girl did it. as is well attested by records not to be disputed.

After along voyage, during which the vessel encountered many storms, and was blown far southward of its proper course, it must liavo been almost unbearable, even to the rough crew, to see a powerful Spanish vessel bearing down upon them just al a time when the end of all their desires seemed almost in sight: but to poor Pauline de ia Chasie it was like plunging into the black pit of utter despair. The shock struck '.er with the fonts of a thousand den'1,.-,, and vet she lived I11 hearts litre !.ers, so long as life remains, there «j loyalty of the most precious sor* md there is faith, which, though t- u\- not give strength, axon's a coiuagc that meets everything with silent er.durance. Pauline had already gone through experiences sufficient to have broken the will of almost any woman: but she loved Louis Doucet, aud her love wis sttong enough to bear her up. even in the dreadful moment when the sea was ready to swallow her. and it sustained her iu the still more trying scents which followed her rescue.

The Spanish vessel, after its victory over its French foe, immediately put into Pensacola. which was then the stronghold of the Spaniards in Florida Pauline, more dead than alive, was taken by Cortes to the house of his. friend, Don Alphonso de Salcedo. the wealthiest citizen of the place, where she was cured for most tenderly by Don A Iphonso's ife, who. childless herself, felt at unci a mother's sympathy for this fragile and lieautiful girl brought to her out of the sea.

For nearly a month Pauline was very ill. and as there was no competent physician iu the place it was good nursing, aided by a nature possessed of great vital energy, that brought her back at last to safe convalescence and to full sense of the terrible trial through which she had passed. Then came the realiza tion ol what to her was worse than death—the fact, that she ha! failed to reach Mobile, failed to find her waiting lover, ami that instead of consummaling her one all absorbing desire she had lost even thing hv falling into the halids oi her country's enemies, against whom Louis Doucet was proudly bearing arms

She found herself in a strangely appointed room, where the rudest work manship in walls and floor was contrasted with pieces of furniture whose carving and cushions attested the most cun ning and costly art of the old -world The couch upon which she lay was a marvel of luxury, while the "window through which she looked out upon the beautiful, dreamy bay was no more than a square hole through the wall of rough pine logs Evidently Don Alphonso wa making his life at Pensacola one of fat less hardship than might have been looked for in thai wild little village, sc. long the rendezvous for corsair and hue caneer in the dny.s when all the world was against Spain. From her delicately perfumed pillow Pauline could see some piratical looking vessels at anchor in the harbor, and she could hear the confused noises of a busy garrison, intent upon completing some fortifications, not far away.

The breath of the early tropic summer strayed in. bearing the rich fragrance ol roses and the tine tiroma of the blooming acacia trees. Awaking as from a long dream, Pauline's first thought, after the sudden confin-ion of recollections had subsided, was that of resuming her jour ney toward her lover but soon enough the impossibility of such a thing rushed upon her mind with such force that with a piteous moan she sank again into state of unconsciousness. At that sound a dark little woman, quite past the prime of life and wrinkled enough to have been 80. came from behind a curtain which covered a narrow doorwav. ami hurried with soft, swift footfalls to the bedside. With a singularly kind ami gentle expression she peered into tin girl's face, touched her pale forehead with her thin, saliow lingers, sol'llv ad justed the rich coverings of the couch, smoothed the pillows and then, with a cailike noiseless motion, slipped into a chair close by and assume,|

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of expectant, solicitous watchfulness Although she was the wife of Don Al phonso. her face wa-' French iu ail its (eat uivs: and when at last Pauline returnee again- to consciousness i[ wa* the sweet accent of Provence that came to la rear "Dear little mademoiselle," it mm mured tenderly, "do you feel beltei now-" -,-T

A soft band bru.-lied with- a cooling tomb across her cheek and temple. Pauline lifted her heavy lids to look into tbo.-,e deep set. insistent eye-s that hung over hci* so inquiringly. The voie, was soothing in a" way and the hand so motherly .-•ml comforting to one bo. an orphan from childhood, was now -1 far away from every familiar sight o: Sound. "Just a drop of this, my child." the lady added, letting fall a small liquie potion between the girl's parted lips '•You are much better now, dear: \oc are going to get well."

She too*- j| iie's bloodless hand and chafed it lightly with the caressing touch of a woman-famishing for love'aud'I or something to'love. "Shut your sweet, eyes, now, mademoiselle, and sleep a little more: just a little more, it will do you good,"

Whether it, was the liquid or whether ...the magnetic contact of those mother] handf! and the lullaby-itLj intonations of

that sweet, soft voice wrought thoeiTeet, Pauline fell at once into a gentlo and refreshing sleep. Once or twieo she stirred lightly and murmured: "Yes, Louis, I urn coming." The watching woman smiled strangely meantime and gazed with a dreamy reminiscent expression out over the bay to where the sun was gilding some vagrant gulf caps till they looked like vague floating domes of gold.

It is scarcely possible for one to realize now what a place Pensacola must have been for a refilled and gentle woman to be caged in the years have hurled us forward so far from those wild, lawl.-ss, freebooting days that we can think of them only as appearing hazily through a mist of romance. The realitywas romantic indeed, but it was harsh, cruel, painfully devoid of any high strain of endeavor, and witluil brutally coarse, no matter how- picturesque and interesting may have been its setting. Dona llortensc (thus we must name the wife of Don Alphonso) had felt to the last thrill the loneliness, the starvation of soul, the utter exile of the life which for years she had been compelled to accept. The coming of Pauline was to her at once joy ami a sorrow, for while it filled in a degree the void in her heart, it awakened 10 renewed life aud activity the sympathies which for years had lain dormant. and made her feel how ti rr-'.le would be the poor girl's sufferings 1 the life which must now come lo her. "Poor little dear," she murmured, gazing half sadly at the delicately chiseled face ami laving her hand on the yellowbrown I,air. "Poor little dear. 1 wonder what play of fate brought you to this terrible place." After a long, thoughtful pause she added—"and 1 wonder what at last will become of you." She shook her head dolefully and covered her eyes ft'ilh the linger ami thumb .if one ham: as if lo shut out some disagreeable vision.

A heavy footfall iu the adjoining room gave warning of the approach of Don Alphonso. 'And how fares the mermaid by this time?"

The light voice and the stalv.., gray bearded man cauie through the doorway together.

The woman put her linger 011 her lip and shook her head. Don Alphonso stalked in with that easy and careless swagger which iu all ages has marked the man without a conscience. "iJeau'.ifuI as a saint," he exclaimed, stopping himself in the middle of the room and looking with admiring eyes upon the girl's white face. "('apt. Cortes is a lucky dog to capture such a prize." "For shame, Alphonso, for shame!" whispered the Dona. "You will wake the poor child, and then your words are brutal. Don't speak again, she must sleep.

Don Alphonso was not a soldier, lie was tin adventurer who had come to Spanish Florida ostensibly us tie: agent of a great trading company, so called: hut in sober fact his business was to forward any scheme, lawful or un'awful, forguining wealth. Hewasaver- handsome man, and despite his wickedness had many traits attractive to women. Ilis wife loved him passionately, but she had long since discovered that her power over him was not what it had been in the days of her prime when she as lioth beautiful and happy.

Me stood quite still for some time with his gaze fixed steadily 011 Pauline's face. His features relaxed and their expression softened. It had been years since-ho had looked upon the face of a young and beautiful girl. The vision recalled his youth and the season of careless, happyidling in the companionship of tne pure, the beautiful and the pood.

The Holy Mother bless the poor girl." he softly said. "She has fouin,l but a poor exchange for the bottom of -he sea."

His wife looked up at him and a warm ilush stole over her prematurely withered cheeks. She arose, and going to him. laid her hands on his stroeg sliou". ders ami said: "My dear husband, we must ave her •ve must make her our child."

The man appeared to shake himself, as if drawing to ^Abir his wits af ter a lit of abstraction. smiled grimly. hut not without a lingering ti iiderne:s :is he responded: "You forget." he said, trying to a.--sumu the swagger. "You forget that Capt. Cortes will have something to say in the matter.'" With this be turned aud abruptly left the room.

CHAPTER II.

Evrr]t ita1 the ijfil/riiit i/onmj

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ePauline, when once she began lo eonale.sce, soon gathered .strength to sit uj: inherited and through tin? ample window space wateh the ivhitecap waves run across the beautiful little bay. A luxuriant rose vine 1 rained over tin outer wall of the house let fall heavy sprays of bloom and foliage below the' rude window cap, and the perfume camin on every pui.-e of the summer weathc -. cry often si. saw Cortes, active. dar! and hand oiiie. passing to and fro in a light sail boat from one side of, the litUe bay to tile other, or going back and for'J between the shore ami his vessel, whiob lay at anchor within full view of Pauline's vvimiow. Kvci-y day the gallvmt ypung captain sent a messenger to iuquire about her health and to ask if uiere was anything ne could do for her,

and one morning there ctuno to Paulino's bedside great pyramid of flowers, many of them new and strange in form and color. The room was fairly flushed with their hues and filled with their sweetness.

The dona, whose long and trying experiences as the wife of a Spanish adventurer had not quenched her French vivacity and love of romance, was delighted to see tiie attentions of Cortes take this delicate and lover like form. The rather ominous hints of her husband had been suggestive of unspeakable possibilities which, in view of the license prevalent in the colony, might be far from remote. The life led by the men in all the Spanish and French posts on the gulf coast at that time was, as a rule, one of unbridled debauchery. Very few women came from the old world to share the hardships of the new, but the reckless soldiers, traders and adventurers took them so called wives from ihe West Indies and Caribbean Islands, dusky women often as wicked ami dangerous as they were lithe ami lieautiful. Domi ilortcnse felt, with all a woman's sensitiveness to such surroundings, the unutterable sufferings which might come to Pauline de la Chasie 011 account of her falling into the power of Capt. Cortes. True. Cortes was apparently an exception to the general rule among the men of Pensacola, so far as she knew. He hail never consorted with the most vicious even of tile oliicers. and his hie appeared,to be clean and noble Szfi,

Still the danger seemed giWt: and besides she had taken Pauline at once into her heart as her child and felt for her all the suddenly kindled solicitude and tenderness that such a. relation under such circumstances could not fail lo engender iu a breast so long deprived of every softer experience sodiar to a true woman. It was therefore matter to start hope in her over apprehensive breast when the young 111:111, instead of assuming the at! itudo of a libertine, began to treat Pauline with all the delicate politeness of a considerate and high minded gentleman, who might become a verv gallant and by no means unsuitable iovir. She had never yet inquired into the antecedent.- of Pauline, nor had she so much as sought to know by what current of destiny the infortunate girl had been east so far away from her native, land: but it was not in the nature of things for Pauline lo keep her secret. Indeed. Dona Hortense was at once surprised and dismayed when the whole trui 11 was poured into her ear. "vloing all alone lo Mobile to inarry a French soldier!" she exclaimed when Pauline hud ended her sloi\\ "Deal •:hild. do you dream what you vvre trying to do? You can have no impression of the lui.-erv tiiat you have escaped byfalling into my hands instead of into the ..rins of a brutal" "Hush!" said Pauline with S :ch i.o.„ mum! in her voice tiiat the old wyuiau looked at her ami started perceplibiy. 'Hush! 1,op is Doucet is not brutal, lie is tin? very noblest and best ii'ai iu the world. 1 would follow him all oyer the earth—I" -3

She sank back upon her pillows pale as a lily an I trembling with the intense emotion aroused by her thoughts. "Pardon me—forgive me, dear." cried Dona Iloitense, taking Pauline in her arms and kissing her. "I wound not wound you for all the world. Doubtless rour lovet is all that you say but, oh! my chilil. my child, it is a dreadful life. Tuink of dear France aud the joyous existence of even her working peasants, and then look at the desolation and the despair which hover over us here!" As she spoke her shriveled face was pinched and its sallovvness was touched with a hot, flame-like glow. "If I could go back—if 1 could go back once more," she moaned, "it would be delicious to dieand be buried beside my mother! Oh. little Pauline—sweet child—liov 1 wish I could save you, could- bear you back to France" "Hut I do not wish to go back to France." Pauline interrupted. "I wish to go to Louis. I do not care to live if I cannot go lo him."

As if the mere suggestion of being taken back to France had given her sudden strength, resolve and courage. Pauline threw oti the arms of her companion •11.d raised herself again to a,sitting posture. "l-'o'v f'-.r ii' frora bar- '.lob'!.:?' she iuqe.iii_*d. in a oi -e so ci. r: ^e-i aa: the poor o! 1 v,-o,:ia:i e«u^i lire- :h. :.s i. almost, suffoe/.tiiig. a:, I conk! o:«ver, "It cannot I-. Pa :h :c it. aii 'd. "and I inustg it'.ie- -. W'.ioca.i uk

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ilona c! isped hep h:!nl 11 I.-'M them out v. it'i a g. -i :re o. s.tpu'ic. i,i ,a When she co :ld 'sp ,-i sac .1, t-. "It is imp.-js,ib! '. ,.e are at vv.tr. Even now th e.,in::ianu u,. he.-.- is planning all expedition to c::. iture -V 'o!u!e.

Thegiri sal ir

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thoughtfully out of Pi- window. Pr-s-entlv she .tarued quickly, toward, .her companion. "Please stfnil word tottliii: 1 should like to sec'him.'

Siie tillered theseWords with the steadiness and decision of one who has a well iel'med purpoac ::i view.

The dona recoiled. "Surely no!" she exclaimed. "You do not mean it. it must not Ini.". "Yes, I wish it immediately." "Hut. mv child" "Lo-e 11 1 time, but go send for Capt. Cortes."

The oi woman felt th sudden and great change, in Paulines manner and knew 1'hat, it had a deeper signiucanee than she 'could comprehend at, once: but although till? more-man suspeea-d that it might be'tlie b-jgirmiug 0 liito sliaaie for the girl she could not refuse to grant iier icqiie.-t. "Don':, don't do this!" she ur:.-od with a piteoiti weak,uess in her voice "You are loo young to have j.ny idea of

step you an: about to take.

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flmr mother, my dear, dear child, and save yon !'ro:n thcdreadful life you would plunge into!"

Pauliueuiisvvered with tender firmness, insisting upon seeing Cortes at once. "Well, well, it, is always so," tho dona wont 011 reflectively and sadly. "I was a girl not so very, very long ago, dear,

and I |. ave up nil fcr a man, all for love. Look at ine and at the life 1 live." She felt that her ivordn were without effect on Pauline she did not wait to hear the reply that might have followed, but arose and went to semi a messenger to fetch Capt. Cortes.

A11 hour later the young officer, evidently not a little embarrassed, was shown into Pauline's presence. He stood beforo hor tall, respectful, handsome, his fino head uncovered and his clear eyes fixed inquiringly upon her.

She moved her lips with a soundless effort lit speech and made a motion for him to sit down, lie look tho designated chair with the prompt manner of one obeying an order.

Looking into his face gave Paulino courage to sav what was upon her mind, but even when the courage came the task w-as an extremely difficult one. She felt that the request she was about to make must appear very strange, if not impossible of performance still she did not hesitate. In the directest and simplest way she told her story to the young oflicer, leaving out nothing, and then in conclusion asked him to help her. "I know you are noble, kind and good." she said, looking at him steady, but with eyes whose deep and tender purity sent a thrill of inexpressible pity through him, "and I feel that 1 can trust you. Oh, sir, will you not help me 10reach Mobile? I have no one lo lurn lo but you. It was you who saved me from the terrible danger, the horrible death in the sea save me now from this life which is worse than a thousand deaths and take me to my dear—to my friends at Mobile."

It was hard for Capt. Cortes to say what ho had to say: hut there was no honorable course for him to pursue, save thai of perfect frankness. He felt keenly bis own situation, while his chivalrous nature burned with deep and strange sympathy for the sweet, bravo invalid before him. It abashed him to think that he had been nursing tender llreams in connect ion with this beautiful being whom he hail snatched from the tumbling wave.: of the gulf. Now that he knew her history ami unuer.stoo.l her desire he saw how fruitless and bow unmanly as well would be any further thought of claiming Pauline's love: moreover, it seemed io him the very refinement of misfortune that he must acknowledge iiis inability to aid her us she Oesired. "1 should be glad aud proud lo do what you as1 ." be said with a sort of soldierly b'liu'nes in bis voice and manner, "bin it is itltcrly impossible. The French do not respect us. nor we them There can be no exehar,-e of courtesies between us: so you see how my handare tied in the mutter."

Pauline e!.:- ).-d her hands an 1 greai tears dropped down her cheeks. Cortes saw her bitter di-t-.ppointmci-.t with a sense of something in contempt for himself on aeeouet. ef bis powerless condition. "Helieve me. mademoiselle," he exclaimed with sudden fervor, "I would gladly give you my life to servo you even in the least degree." "I believe you, sir, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart. You are nobly generous. But is there indeed no way? Must I choose between death and the acceptance i.f this life now afforded to me?"

Something in her tone and manner sent 11 shock through the young man's breast. Within the past few minutes there hail come upon him the sweet, rich and yet saildeni ig experience of love and loss. Before bil sat the fairest and loveliest apparition hat had ever blessed his vision. In his heart she had set the fountains of spi ing to flowing—the song ami the bloom 1

1

gushing. The old. old

story of the sieiden coining of passion aud the sudden realization of its hopelessness had bet 11 told once more be'.,vveen the soft pulses if the- sub-t ropic breeze, lie bowed bis head until his dark forehead touched tli.e plum--of his hat which rested 011 h:s ki.ee. -r one moment he gave way 10 sellislu: .. and the thought swept, through his mind that he might have his own wiv wit.li fate. "1 am sorry to have pained you." said Pauline presently. "1 owe my life to you and I fear -..hat 1 have appealed ungrateful. Pra forgive me."

Her words K.iiudcd to him like the rebuke of tin at.gel. He looked up and said, as if in se defense: »u ov.-j i:«." in- h!'ig but cvalion. It v/as I vvho

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:k ih vessei- which was

bearing you t:r lover. It was I v.iio deprive.! von more than life. O'c.! Mademoiselle. •.demoiselle"— lie checked h'.mslf vvitii great effort and rii-'n stood b- lore her quite calm bat pale, Iiis c,es burning almost (i.-rcei ., Iiis si--ib-ir.it n.vk showing the lines of supores. *:,-d but i'-u -st overpovveringeuiotion. l'oii oid Im, yo.irdury. I have thought all a ot.l it., -iji.' -ail. "and I do not blame you for :t: hill I am no prisoner of war, being nothing but a poor girl whom fate li-.s cast into your hands wherefore it s, .mis to me that you might let me go in a!, honor." "I would net hold you one moment." he exclaimed ouieklv. "You are as free as 1 am: but I,aero is no possible wnv for you to pass I nun her to Mobile. The thought i., ut.erlv untenable—the thing is impossible and riot to be dreamed of."

No interview ever was more depressing and unsatis.fa tory to the parlies holding it. Pauline It that it ende 1 all hope' at least tor lie present, and she lay upoi. her couch disheartened aud purposeies,-. Cortes went a vay thoroughly wretched und at war wi ll himself, lie was in lov» •vitli P.- -ili ,e 'lis warm, arrogant. Spanish iv.'... liati broken 1 he bounds al once and now ther-% was 110 limit to tho passion thai possessed him: but his chivalrous si-rt^eof honor though overwhelmed, was immovable. 'I be impression haunted him '.hat., for the i.-ast,:i that: Pauline was in his power, be oughtioi. ee her. and because of his love for her lie ought to restore her to her lover. It was well to harbor these cutiim-ills, but what, lover could act upoti I hem?

Days and iveeks passed bv, during which Cortes brooded over the situation. Now and aga he resolved that he would attempt tos"i,.l Pauline to Mobile by some method, but is often he rememberV.

•if-

his duty us ti soldier. The Ftenei, Mobile wer» '.he very incarnation of that was hated by the Spaniards at pvn. sacola, nnd to do any kind act for one „f them was repugnant to every p.-dse in true Spanish soldier's veins. Doiil,tli. the young captain's passion for i,is i.-, captive made this repugnance all n„. more fierce and bitter, for the thought nf resigning that captive to the arms of uuB Louis Doucet of the hated French g:ir. rison was the refinement of torture. Still .lie acknowledged in the deepest cavesi,f his breast that duty of tho highest and most sacred sort demanded thatheshoulj never rest until Pauline do la Chasie an,

Louis Doucet, separated by him, sliuui.i be united by him. It is easy to see hew. ordinarily, a struggle of this sort wou|,j end. Love, extol it as wo may, is the hot bed of a certain kiiKl of unconi|iii.r. ablo solfishness. llare, indeed, are tlie instances where love bus been self sam. ficing'enough to turn over to its rival th. object of its desire. There were moment, when Cortes would have made Ihe sacrifice, and at all times ho tortured liimsiii between the flame of pa^'ion and the lint iron of conscience but he was human, he found excuses for faltering and lu-si tatiug, nay even for what appeared t,, him harmless deception.

Almost every day he found time io $,... Pauline and to offer her some dc-licut.-attention. Meantime, as the sumtiiT passed awav, Indian couriers began te bring word of preparations gomg f.ir ward among tint French at Mobile for ar expedition against Pensacola. "I have not a doubt that I!ienvil|.i will attack 11s soon," said tlories, ei'imorning early iu .September. "And he will take lln town then!"— exclaimed Pauline, clasnint her hands and (lushing 1imidenh

She was sitting by the window 1{... turning health -had made her form an,l her face doubly beautiful in lie- eves n: the young ollieer. "Bui lie will not take the town," responded. "Our force is verv stroiii' and our fortifications u..d deet are lispin an I

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anything lie uii bring eg .una .., No, we will destroy him. alaeist, entin lv "No, 110!" cried Paulino, ."ihe l-reneli are always victorious. Are voii siuvjt they will come? Oh, but I prey tli-u they will and then 1 .-.halt be Iree! Inev will destroy you." -s

Cortes smiled, but there was a ileadlvi pang behind the smile. e-i "Yon will be tii q,pontic-!. TM.Y.ieifioi-: selle." he said. "It not r. ile.

Pauline saw the sptil" and instanilv l! ish of indignant re.sentuieni niaue li. cheek* burn. "When my people coinc. slie said,,'i shall see liovv you wiii destroy lliem." "We arc nearly 'J.otiO," reiiiaiKeil l:, still curling his lip. "and they ari.escti'reely 500, Indians excepted 1 tell v6ii®vtii:!'. they can do nothing, absolutely leitiua.'.'

Pauline sprung to her feet. "You do not want

iih.

to be fre

cried.her voice rich with passionate acctie satiou. He arose and looked down at her with a curious mixture of tenderaes.-, anj harshness in his face. At thai momenu he realized how fully lie had determined:: that this girl should never go away Iron! him. What would life b» worth without her? Who was Louis Doucet that li should hold the exclusive right to such a prize? Would not the water of the gulf bo now rolling over her if be—Corteshad not saved her? How ungrateful she was!

Pauline, looking siea lily into his eyes, read his thoughts. She saw the change in bis features and manner and felt that all hope was gone. "Ami not long e.go you said that you would give your lifotohelp inc!" sincried, a bitter contempt ringing through her trembling voice. "I did r.ay that: yes. and 1 spoke truly." he replied, almost fiercely. -'Even now. mademoiselle,"anil his face swelled whh the pressure of violent emotion, "even now 1 would .-.icrilice more than life. I would cast away honor for you."

He did not wait to hear what site would say 111 response to this, but turned and left her with almost rude nbrupttie -,.

CUAPTEi: III.

'-.S'yji'o/.- rtle' let me /ie.-."

The 17ih day of .September, 17It', dawned on the bay of Pensacola vv lib slight log. dim and gray, hovering over the water ami fringing with fantasM" trailing festoons the :.bores of the island. I'lie fort, on the hill behind the town loomed up quite grandly and .showed tieprojecting muzzle^ of its heavv 141111.'. while the licet in tho bay nnd the e.-rt'e works on th" island gave 111 appearan-. of great military st: -ugth to tli lilt!• Spanish post.. Doubtless a feeling el perfect security pe-ee- ed the lor there was no sign of unusual vi, lance, albeit on the evening before sunn Indian runners had come in to them that the French were advancing bv both land and sea.

The commandant at Pensaeula was nvt aware l5i-.it the Com pie dn Chuinpme-'i. had re-enforced Bienville's little army Mobile with a fleet, of three ships ol th line, nor tiiat, a strong force of Indian had been induced to join in an expedition against Pensacola by land. The routiia' of military discipline was kept up in perfunctory way, while both the officer and men of the Spanish garrison themsel .'W over to the dreamy and 11 taxing iituiieuceof the climate. When nt