The Lady of the Isle

All! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, that but an hour before Blushed at the praise of their own lov...

“Her look composed, and steady eye, Bespoke a matchless constancy; And there she stood, so calm and pale, That, but her breathing did not fail, And motion slight of eye and head...

The news of the arrest of a bride at the altar, upon one of the gravest charges, and that bride, the beautiful and gifted Estelle Morelle, the star of fashion, the patroness of...

We left her seated in the carriage with Messrs. Oldfield and Trevor, on the road to Bloomingdale parsonage. Closely enveloped in the bridal vail, which she had as yet no opportu...

“And still and pale and silently The hapless lady waits her doom; How changed since last her speaking eye Glanced gladness round the glittering room, When high-born men were pro...

On entering the thronged room, a group to the left of the door, forced itself upon Lord Montressor’s notice. It consisted of Victoire L’Orient, the little old French woman and t...

“Enough that we are parted—that there rolls, A flood of headlong fate between our souls. Whose darkness severs me as wide from thee, As hell from heaven to all eternity!”—_Moore._

Lord Montressor arose early next morning, and devoted the whole forenoon to engaging a pleasant suite of rooms at the “Royal Adelaide,” and in superintending their arrangement f...

A hundred souls in one instant of dread Are hurried over the deck; And fast the miserable ship Becomes a lifeless wreck. Her keel hath struck a hidden rock, Her planks are torn...

“And Lara sleeps not where his fathers sleep, But where he died his grave is quite as deep! Nor is his mortal slumber less profound, That earth nor formed, nor marble decked the...

While Lord Montressor pursues his search for Estelle, we must take up the fortunes of some other persons who are concerned in our narrative. But first a brief review of Victorie...

Madame, from the rose-wreathed balcony of her front chamber window, looked out upon the delightful scene, as upon some poetic elysium, encircled by the crystal sea. It was indee...

And so, as the sunny summers slipped away, in this atmosphere of love and beauty, Etoile, the peerless little “Princess of the Isle,” budded from infancy into childhood. She was...

And finally we abandoned the poor, wounded, young lioness, Barbara Brande, in the hour of her utmost need, when every earthly stay and support was stricken from her at one blow.

Susan commenced and related just so much of the particulars of the shipwreck as had reached her through the public press, and through the conversation of those persons with whom...

“Oh! thou lost And ever gentle lady—whose most fearful Fate darkens earth and Heaven—where thou now art I know not—but if thou now saw’st what I am, I think thou would’st relent...

“How gloriously her gallant course she goes! Her white wings flying—never from her foes; She walks the waters like a thing of life, And seems to dare the elements to strife. Who...

“Oh! might I here In solitude live hidden—in some glade Obscure, where highest woods, impenetrable To star or sunlight, spread their umbrage broad And dark as evening. Cover me,...

“Strange things, the neighbors say, have happened there! Wild shrieks have issued from the hollow tombs, Dead maids have come again, and walked about; And a great bell has tolle...

That was a glorious morning, as I said, in the golden month of October. Susan had risen very early, and was already in the kitchen when Amphy arrived. The face of the old creatu...

As soon as Susan had closed the door behind her, Lady Montressor dropped her face into her hands, and sigh after sigh, and groan after groan, burst from her overcharged bosom.

“The gallant’s form was middle size For feats of strength, or exercise, Shaped in proportion fair; And hazel was his eagle eye, And auburn of the darkest dye, His short curl’d b...

“She was all lightness, life and glee! One of the shapes we seem To meet in visions of the night; But should they greet our waking sight, Imagine that we dream.”—_George Hill._

“Merrily, merrily goes the barque, On a breeze from the northward free; So shoots through the morning sky the lark. Or the swan through the summer sea! Upon the gale she stoops...

“There was on both sides much to say, They’d hear the cause another day. And so they did, and then a third They heard it, and so kept their word. But with demurrers and replies,...

“The misletoe hung in the castle hall, The holly-branch shone on the old oak wall, The baron’s retainers were blithe and gay, Keeping their Christmas holiday. Oh! the misletoe b...

Having passed the park gates, the whole scene was changed. No sign of Christmas festivity was here. No winter wreath of mingled misletoe and holly arched the entrance. No gay tr...

The gentlemen then went to the drawing-room, whither Lady Morelle, in full dinner dress, had already preceded them. And here Lord Montressor learned that other guests were then...

The next morning, Sir Parke Morelle, with his favorite servant and his baggage, made up for a long sea voyage, arrived from Devonshire. When informed that passage for the party...

“O’er the glad waters of the dark-blue sea! Our thoughts as boundless and our souls as free! Far as the breeze can bear the billows’ foam, Survey our empire and behold our home!

“And the stately ship goes on To the haven under the hill, But oh! for the touch of a vanished hand And the sound of a voice that is still.”—_Tennyson._

With the skillful attention of the village physician, the devoted care of her faithful servant, and the fervent prayers of the parish minister, she had recovered from her long a...

Sir Parke and Lady Morelle, after having used every means in their power for the recovery of their daughter, gave up the search in despair, and retired to Hyde Hall, where, year...

Etoile from a beautiful child, had grown into a most beautiful maiden. Her form was of medium size and of exquisite symmetry. Her golden ringlets were more sunny bright, her smo...

“Methinks it were no pain to die On such an eve, when such a sky O’er-canopies the west. To gaze my fill on yon calm deep, Then like an infant sink to sleep On earth my mother’s...

Mr. Luxmore returned early in November, bringing many rare presents for Etoile, consisting of costly books and pictures, an elegant paint-box, furnished with drawing materials,...

“Her sweet song died, and a vague unrest, And a nameless longing filled her breast— A wish that she hardly dared to own, For something better than she had known.”—_Whittier._

“What shall I do with all the days and hours That must be counted ere I see thy face? How shall I charm the interval that low’rs Between this time and that sweet time of grace?”...

“She dwells amid the city: The great humanity which beats Its life, along the stony streets, Like a strong, unsunned river, In a self-made course, is ever Rolling on, rolling on...

Barbara Brande’s deck, as usual, presented an animating scene of orderly industry. Edwy, as mate, had charge of the forecastle. Several men were aloft, at work upon the rigging....

No band of hired minstrels sounding their reveille, aroused Etoile L’Orient on the morning of her birthday and appointed bridal eve. But the matin songs of myriad birds that mad...

“A ruddy tinge of glowing bronze Upon his face is set, Closely around his temples cling Thick locks of shining jet; He loves to climb the tall mast-head Or plunge in the rapid s...

“Love is the gift which God hath given To man alone beneath the heaven; It is not fantasy’s wild fire, Whose wishes, granted, soon expire: It is the secret sympathy, The silver...

“So pray I! I never see a storm arise, without a sickening of the soul,—not for dread of what is coming, but in memory of what has gone! The sea has been very fatal to my race,...

A boat was pushed up on the sands, and a party consisting of Julius Luxmore and two gentlemen landed, and advanced up the avenue toward the spot where Etoile and Willful remaine...

“There are swift hours in life—strong rushing hours— That do the work of tempests in their might! They shake down things that stood as rocks and towers Unto th’ undoubting mind;...

There’s not a look, a word of thine, My soul hath e’er forgot! Thou ne’er didst bid a ringlet shine, Nor give thy locks one graceful twine, Which I remember not!”—_Ibid._