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Show n ... v LAKE TIMES, SATURDAY, JUNE 21. 1890. 10 ; j .THE SALT -- 1 INLOfMlS. A LEGEND Of PENSACOLA. BY MAURICE THOMPSON. (Copyright. AU righto resenredj CHAPTER L life which must now come to her. "Poor little dear," she murmured, gaz-ing half sadly at the delicately chiseled face and laying her hand on the yellow brown hair" "Poor little dear, I wonder what play of fate brought you to this terrible place." After a long, thoughtf ul pause she added "and I wonder what at last will become of you." She shook her head dolefully and covered her eyes with the linger and thumb of one hand as if to shut out some disagreeable vision. A heavy footfall in the adjoining room gave warning of the approach of Don Alphonso. "And how fares the mermaid by this time?" ' The light voice and the 6talwart gray bearded man came through the doorway together. The woman put her finger on her lip and shook her head. . . . ' Don Alphonso stalked in with that easy and careless swagger which in all ages has marked the man without a con-science. : ' "Beautiful as a saint," he exclaimed, stopping himself in the middle of tlie room and looking with admiring eyes upon the girl's white face. "Capt. Cor-tes 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. crew of soldier seamen to go from France to America, yet this girl did it, as is well attested by records not to be dismited. Alter along voyage, during Much the. vessel encountered many storms, and was blown far southward of its proper course, it must have been almost un-bearable, even to the rough crew, to see a powerful Spanish vessel bearing down upon them just at a time whan the end of all their desires seemed aispsost in sight; but to poor Pauline de la Chasie it was like plunging into the black pit of utter despair. The shock struck her with the force of a thousand deaths, and yet she lived. In hearts like hers, so long as life remains, there 'a loyalty of the most precious sort tnd there is faith, which, though 6 B.ay not give strength, affords a courage that meets everything with silent endurance. Pau-line had already gone through experi-ences sufficient to have broken the will of almost any woman; but she loved Louis Doucet, and her love was strong enough to bear her up, even in the dreadful moment when the sea was ready to swallow her, and it sustained her in the still more trying scenes which followed her rescue. The Spanish vessel, after its victory over its French foe, immediately put into Pensacola, which was then th 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 wealtliiest citi-zen of the place, where she was cared Pauline de la Chasie rose to the surface. A French vessel bound for Mobile was captured and sunk by a Spanish cruiser aoon after the recapture of Pensacola by the Spanish fleet in 1719. One prisoner, a slender and beautiful girl, was the only prize secured by the victors. The fight had been a close and deadly one, with a result not uncommon in those days when naval engagement at best was a mere matter of broadsides and boarding. Car-rying fewer guns and lighter ones than its adversary, and withal being much slower, the French vessel fell an easy prey to its vigorous adversary. It went down with its colors flying, however, while the Spaniards were in the act of boarding it; but before this the deck had been so raked by cannon and muskets at ehort range that the brave little crew were nearly all killed, so that it was but a smoke grimed and bloody handful of them that cheered pluckily as they sank in twenty fathoms of green gulf water. Pauline de la Chasie was saved from the fate qf the vessel's crew by one of those strange chances which now and again inject into real life the most im-possible appearing elements of romance. She bad rushed upon the deck, wild and disheveled, just as the ship lurched for-ward to go down. A young Spanish off-icer, bearing the honored name of Cortes, saw her, and this lovely apparition, hov-- for most tenderly by Don Alphonso's wife, who, childless herself, felt at once a mother's sympathy for this fragile and beautiful girl brought to her out of the sea. For nearly a month Pauline was very ill, and as there was no competent phy-sician in 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 of what to her was worse than death the fact that she had failed to reach Mobile, failed to find her waiting lover, and that instead of consummating her one all absorbing desire she had lost everything by falling into the hands of her country's enemies, against whom Louis Doucet was proudly bearing arms. She found herself in a strangely ap-pointed room, where the rudest work-manship in walls and floor was contrast-ed with pieces of furniture whose carv- - Don Alphonso was not a soldier. He was an adventurer who had come to Spanish Florida ostensibly as the agent of a great trading company, so called; but in sober fact his business was to for-ward any scheme, lawful or unlawful, for gaining wealth. He was a very hand-some man, and despite his wickedness had many traits attractive to women. His 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 was both beautiful and happy. He stood quite still for some time with his gaze fixed steadily on Pauline's face. His features relaxed and their expression softened. It had been years since he had looked upon the face of a young and beautiful girl The vision recalled his youth and the season of careless, happy idling in the companionship of the pure, the beautiful and the good. "The Holy Mother bless the poor girl," he softly said. "She has found but a poor exchange for the bottom of the sea. " His wife looked up at him and a warm flush stole over her prematurely with-ered cheeks. She arose, and going to him, laid her hands on his strong shoul-ders and said: "My dear husband, we must save her; we must make her our child." The man appeared to shake himself, as if drawing together his wits after a fit of abstraction. He smiled grimly, but not without a lingering tenderness as he responded: "You forget," he said, trying to as-sume the swagger. "You forget that Capt. Cortes will have something to say in the matter." With this he turned and abruptly left the room. To be continued next Saturday. ing 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 was making his life at Pensacola one of far less hardship than might have been looked for in that wild little village, so long the rendezvous for corsair and buc-caneer in the days 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.tropio summer strayed in, bearing the rich fragrance of roses and the fine aroma of the blooming acacia trees. Awaking as from a long dream, Pauline's first thought, after the sudden confusion 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 a 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 doorway, and hurried with soft, swift footfalls to the bedside. With a singularly kind and gentle expression she peered into the girl's face, touched her pale forehead with her thin, sallow fingers, softly ad-justed the rich coverings of the couch, smoothed the pillows and then, with a catlike noiseless motion, slipped into a chair close by and assumed an attitude of expectant, solicitous watchfulness. Although she was the wife of Don Al-phonso, her face was French in all its feat-ures; and when at last Pauline returned again to consciousness it was the sweet accent of Provence that came to her ear. "Dear little mademoiselle," it mur-mured tenderly, "do you feel better A soft hand brushed with a cooling touch across her cheek and temple. Pauline lifted her heavy lids to look into those deep set, insistent eyes that hung over her so inquiringly. The voice was soothing in a way and the hand was so motherly and comforting to one who, an orphan from childhood, was now so far away from every familiar sight or sound. "Just a drop of this, my child," the lady added, letting fall a small liquid potion between the girl's parted lips. "You are much better now, dear; you are going to get well." She took Pauline's bloodless hand and chafed it lightly with the caressing touch of a woman famishing for love and for something to love. "Shut your sweet eyes, mow, made-moiselle, and sleep a little more; just a little more, it will do you good." Whether it was the liquid or whether the magnetio contact of those motherly hands and the lullaby-lik- e intonations of tnat sweet, Sort VOlce tvrougnu tmeuct;,, Pauline fell at once into a gentle and re-freshing sleep. Once or twice she stirred lightly and murmured: "Yes, Louis, I am coming." The watching woman smiled strangely meantime and gazed with a dreamy reminiscent expression out over the bay to where the sun was jtflding some vagrant gulf caps till they looked like vague floating domes of gold. It is scarcely possible for one to real-ize now what a place Pensacola must have been for a refined and gentle wo-man to be caged in; the years have hurl-ed us forward so far from those wild, ering 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 inflammable one, ready to flare up vividly at every touch of the new, the strange or the beautiful. What could appeal more for-cibly or more directly to the heart of such a youth at such a moment than the vision of a young girl, lithe, slender, lovely, with white arms outspread, yel-low brown hair afloat on the breeze, her pale face upturned, and her garments fluttering wildly, running across the bloody, corpse strewn deck of the sink-ing vessel against which he had just been directing his guns? Indeed, so much was he affected, he started for-ward and stretched forth his hands as U. 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; but the beautiful and frightened young girl, Pauline de la Chasie, rose to the surface and with her long, wet hair clinging close to her shape-ly shoulders and girlish bust, was seen tossing about on the Ehort chopping waves. In some way her clothes had caught hold on a fragment of spar, so that she had been kept afloat. Fortunately her instinct of self preservation had ever-born- e her fear at the critical moment. With desperate eagerness and energy she clung to the bitof buoyant wood and was able to keep her head above the foam and spray of the noisy and tumbling waves, albeit she was scarcely aware of what she was doing. Cortes, whose habit was to spend no time in deliberating at the point of an emergency, called for men and quickly had a boat lowered. In a few minutes the girl, in a condition, was on board the Spanish vessel, where ehe received every kind attention that chivalrous men could offer under the cir-cumstances. The sheck to her nerves had been very great, not only on account of the terrible nature of the engagement and the results following it, but more on account of the peculiar conditions under which she had left France to go to the obscure little garrison at Mobile, en the then wild southern coast of America. In those days love was something to live for and to die for. To be young and in love meant that along with the youth and love went a certain romantic devo-tion which would turn aside for no ob-stacle, hesitate at no sacrifice. Man and woman, youth and maiden felt that to go to the end of the world for love's sake was at need the noblest of all tasks, the highest and holiest of all duties. The influence of chivalry was still alive and, although the formalities of olden knight-hood had mostly passed away forever, there lingered in the world, especially among the young and the brave, a spirit of honor which demanded extraordinary exactitude in the matter of keeping prom-ises, ,and especially those promises bound by the golden thread of love. Pauline de la Chasie at the time of the disaster to the vessel that bore her was on her way to join her soldier lover, one Louis Doucet, whose fortune had called him to Mobile. It would be very interesting, if space and the scope of this story would permit it, to go back and give the details of this romantio love affair, which budded in the fairest part of southern France, at one of the old towns whose ruins date beyond the timo when the pope had his home in Provence, and whose roses are still the very ones of which the troubadours raved. We must be content, however, to trace the Ameri-can part of what must always remain one of the mct noteworthy strains of romance connected with the settlement of our southern coast. lawless, freebooting days that we can think of them only as appearing hazily through a mist of romance. The reality was romantic indeed, but it was harsh, cruel, painfully devoid of any high strain of endeavor, and withal brutally coarse, no matter how picturesque and interesting may have been its setting. Dona Hortense (thus we must name the wife of Don AlphonBo) 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 coining of Pauline was to her at once a joy and a sorrow, for while it filled in a degree the void in her heart, it awaken-ed to renewed life and activity the svm-pathi-which for yeais had lain dor-mant, and made hpr eel how terriblo would be the poor girl's sufferings in tho 1 The firave historian, who sct'rns what-ever is not dry as dust, runs over wnat he looks upon as mere incident, and he turns aside from anything romantio or touched with sentiment, as though he feared some lurking infection 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 inci-dents, these bits.of romance that form the neglected fringe of history, are the very parts of the past which are most interesting. Paulino de la Chnsics ex-- I perhmce certainly may claim the atten tion of this liberal majority. 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Milford &press 3;" TJtali. osid Nevada District " fM5p.ni " " " except Monday. 6::0p.mt ' - II II" 11 g5gg:ig t. Salt -- ks 5c 'W'estem District. aKMaW' SUDday) fOT IrMcity, Ekl yji-rttjm-ii fyagixfpKi ' ,i - .j'",., toCouncl ibiubF "R nvj p5Sfn.at I3 IPP" "it tay Coaches 0Kden Sleeper. to vim Rin8 ?eper'DP?r,laild t0 l Bluffs; PnUman Palace tPhurUonulgahu SCloelenpn"ls" srulR & Lake to CheyennMthu Slwr p, i'tw "!n1aCololst Sleeper. San Francisco to Council BlufU S" ' cTf-W"SiES' - resseguie General Mana5w TWO GOOD STORIES. Dr. Parr and the Peasants Ben Jonion'i Quick Wit. Dr. Parr (the celebrated scholar) was once preaching in the country parish of another clergyman, and, as was his habit, used very learned language. The rector afterward said to him: "They could not understand you." "Nonsense," said Dr. Parr; "I am sure there was nothing in my sermon which they could not comprehend." "Well," said the rector, "I will call one of them in and see if he understands the meaning of the word 'felicity.' " So he called in a labori ing man, and said: "John, can you tell me what is the meaning of 'felicity?' " "Well, I don't known, sir," said John, "but I be-lieve it is some part of the inside of a pig." Lord Craven once invited Ben Jonson to dine at his house. At the appointed time Ben trudged off in his usual poor clothes, patched all over, and kaocked at his lord-ship's door. The astonished porter scratched his head, and before he conducted the stranger in, sent to inform Lord Craven that a shabby clodhopper, who called him-self Ben Jonson, desired to see him. His lordship flew to the door to welcome the poet, but started back in surprise when he saw such an odd figure. "You Ben Jon-son!" said he. "You Ben Jonson, indeed! Shouldn't care for your clothes, but your face zounds! You couldn't say 'Bol' to a goose." "Bo!" said Ben. His lordship burst into a hearty laugh, and, satisfied by the joke of the personal identity of his famous guest, conducted him in. The Churchman. Good Shooting. "Is there any good shooting in this part of the country?" a white man asked of an old negro down in Louisiana. "Oh, yaa, sah, some o' de bes shootin' you eber seed." "I am glad to hear it." "Doan know why you wanter be glad, but de shootin' is yere, all de same." "Good many birds, I suppose." "I ain't seed none." "Squirrels, then, I suppose." "I doan." "What sort of game is there?" "I ain't seen no game." "Thought you said there was good shoot-ing?" "Did say so. Some o' de fines' shootin' I eber seed. Er mau shot at me laa' fall 'way 'cross er ten acre fiel' nn' broke dis arm. It wuz so fur I didn't think he could hit me, but he did; an' I mus' say dat it wus erbout de fines' shootin' I eber seed." Merchant Traveler. Unknown to Him. Cholly Litewaite (member of the High-ton- e Athletio association) Aw, I thay, doctah, I'm tewwibly afwaid thero'th thomething the matter with my arm. I've been exerthithing with the Indian clubth for about thix months, and there'th a gweat lump on my forearm. Do you can it be an an abtheth? Doctor (feeling his arm) My dear young man, I really Cholly Oh, what, for pity'th thake? Doctor (gravely) I really believe you're actually getting a little muscle. Law-reuc- e American. True Couivge. De Smythe Who is that affected speci- men of humanity making towards us? De Johnes That's Dumley, and despite his harmless appearance he's a courageous man. "Well, his looks belie him. But what makes you think he has courage?" "He eats restaurant hash." Texas Sift-In- n Betting on His Egoism. "My dear sir," said the lecturer, "I had a very observant listener in you May I ask the reason? Were you deoplv interested?" ." "I was, sir I was. I had a bet that you would use the first personal pronoun once every minute, and by Jove! I won the bet." Bill Later. Mrs. Cumso (when lier new bonnet came home) Why, actually, the bird on this bjmiet hasn't any bill. v Cumso The bill was too large to go on the bonnet. It will conm separately in a ''wshI barrow about the lint of the month, i |