The Secret Shot; Or, The Rivals Of Misty Mount — page 15: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

WANDALO’S CHOICE. in a yoice almost inaudible with passin. “ Tas thy love for the Passion-Flower grown cold, Wandalo ?” The chieftain flung himself at her feet. “ The love of Wandalo has never cooled,” he cried. “Oh, it is not too late!. Be mine, be mine, dark°Blossom of the elens. We will leave these scheming white men to themselves, and the wild, free mountains shall be our home. The bloom of our youth is passing away, but it were swect to wither in each other’s arms. Be my bride, dark Flower of my thoughts! Or name a test of Wandalo’s love. What shall he do to gain the high ledge whereon thou grow- est so darkly bright? Be mine, be mine!” This outpouring of the Indian’s love had # gushed like a geyser through the frost of his usually imperturbable mien. Judith rose to her feet and looked down upon him, with folded arms; and there was something ten- der and profound in her stern, dark gaze. “Listen, Wandalo,” said she, in low, trembing tones. “ This is not the only time I have seen you at my feet. My answer has hitherto been adverse to thy suit. The time has come when jt may be otherwise. I bid thee hope.” The Indian sprung to his feet with a joy- ful cry; but she motioned him back. “Not so fast!’ she continued, with a somber smile. “There isacondition. The chieftain bids me to test his love; and it shall be so. But he must toil indeed, if he would gain the ledge whereon I bloom.” “Let the Passion-Flower but breathe her terms,” was the reply. “ My terms are these,” cried Judith: “the chieftain must crush all pity from his heart. Thou knowest the dark tale of my early life; thou knowest my yengeance is not complete. The owner of Misty Mount and his daughter are the only two left in my path to triumph. Have I Wandalo’s arm to do my bidding ?” The Indian hung his head “apc answered remonstratingly : “But why should the vengeance of the dark beauty extend so far? The pale-face of the grand mansion was not her wronger ; it was his brother, who is already in the tomb.” “ My hatred extends not only to his fam- ily but to his race,” was the stern reply. “ Alas! and must the Lily, Ida, also per- ish ?” “ Ay, and more than perish !” The Indian looked up inquiringly. ‘in the soil 18 “She must perish two-fold,” was the dark reply. “low may that be, my dark beauty? One can not die but once.” “A woman can!” exclaimed the quad- roon. “First in her happiness; then in her life—the lesser death.” “4 . “The Gloomy Blossom can not mean—” “Ay!” was the fierce anticipation of his horrified query. ‘The lady Ida shall per- ish first as Z perished. JZ was as fresh, as glad, as bright as she; what am I now? The fiend thou seest. Oh, she shall also drink the cup of misery—to the dregs—to the dregs!” she repeated, vehemently, pac- ing to and fro, and rubbing her hands fever- ishly. “Oh, she shall also feel the iron in her soul! She shall become the wife of one she hates! The backward look shall be a glance of horror to her heart! She shall behold the barrier between her and her olden happiness as a_heaven-reaching, star-blotting wall of adamant, as J beheld it. Oh, she shall writhe—writhe—writhe! Ha} does the chieftain relent his love? Does he fear to trample on his pity ?” There was no reply. A fearful contest was raging in Wandalo’s bosom—a war of good and evil, in which the one or the other must be exterminated, He trembled vio- lently as his forehead sunk below her burn- g gaze, “Determine quickly!” cried the beauti- ful fiend. “ My love ormy hatred; choose! I see. Thy cowardly pity is triumphant. Farewell !” She turned to go; but the victory was her’s and Satan’s; the chieftain raised his stormy face, staggered an instant as in per- plexity, and then sprung forward, and ‘clasped her in his arms. “Thou arf mine! thou art mine! Oh, wild, fierce spirit!” he cried. “ Speak, and thy word is law to the Thunder-Mocker. Let the pale-face perish, and the Lily wither ; thou art the only bloom for me ‘id . Judith returned his,embrace with an ea- ger joy; and, for the first time, their lips met in a burning kiss, like the sealing of a frightful bond. “Yes, I am thine forever, Wandalo!” murmured she; “and, in our own good time, we will seek the distant mountains for a home !” “What are the plans of the Passion- Flower ?” “They are few and simple. Heartstead chook (Oo) (©)