{"character_count": 4975, "word_count": 877, "ccnet_language_score": [0.9659000039100647], "ccnet_perplexity": [1284.800048828125], "fasttext_language": ["en"]}
malden's confidence in vain? The moon
rode higher in the heayens-the leaves
bent and trembed in the increasing breeze
as If the tiny feet of q thousond fairies
were twirling in rapid dance through the
verdant mazes that shaded those lovers,
yet still did those noble lips breathe burn
ing words into the artless maiden's car;
his arm unchecked, had sought again her
waist, and her glowing cheek was resting
in afectionate confidence upon his shoul-
der. A hasty step, however, heard far in
the stiffness, broke their dream Of rapture.
A whispered sehtence-"by the brooks
side"-a parting kiss, and Louise watched
her lovers form bound over the green and
vanish in the shade, ere she turned to
meet her father, who gently child her for
allowing the cool night air to chill the
color from her cheek, then smiled to see
how that color rushed again to her very
temples at his playful chiding.


Il was moonlight again on Falaise At
the easement Of one Of the apartments Of
the castle sat a lady gazing in earnest
and thoughtful silence at a spot where an
opening in the underwood allowed a
glimpse Of one Of the prettiest vine-shel-
tered cottages of the town. Her brow
rested lightly on her hand, and tear-drop
trembled on one Of her long eye-lashes,
for thousand sadly tender recollectons
were stealing through her bosom with the
noiseless rapidity Of the flowing wave. 1t
was Louise, the dukes fayorite, as she
was gently styled, and though years had
flown by since she received his plighted
love III the shade Of that cottage bower,
yet time had swept with his wing nothing
Of the bloom from her cheek, nor had
chilled with his touch any thing Of the
spring whose warm gush was felt in each
hearts throb. She thought Of her girl
hoods days, when, the village pride, she
led her companions in the evening dance,
then of those intoxicating hours of stolen
love, and of the blissful day-dreams that
cheefed her loneliness, while, mingled
mith every thought, came the vision Of
that mild old man, whose voice never met
hef ear save in tones of kindness, whose
eye, dimmed with labor and fatigue, grew
bright and smiled at her affectiouate ca
resses-that voice, alas! now hushed, and
that eve closed in death She bowed her
head to shut out the scene from her view,
and that tear-drOp driven from its resting
place by dozen others, fell upon the face
of lovely infant that was sIumbering
softly at her feet. The little sleeper
opened its eyes and laughed; in a moment
the mother reigned supreme in her soul,
drowning, in the full swell of its emotions,
every other feeling and passion. It was
a busy night throughout the castle. The
yassals hastened to and fro in the court
and in the antechambers, some with vi
ands for the banquet, others with goblets
Of the grapes ruddy juice, while here and
there was group preparing spear and
sword, furnishing the armor, and convers-
ing upon the strange occurrence Of their
lords departure. In the grand hall was
the glare of lights, the noise of reYelry,
the clank of the wine fagon, the chorussed
song, and the appIauded jest-there Rob
ert, the magnificent, or, as he was some
times called, the devil, feasted high with
his retainers, for the morrcw's sun he had
vowed should see him on his pilgrimage to-
wards the Holy Land. As these mingled
sounds rose family to Louise's ear she
cIasped her child to her bosom, whom,
struggling to escape the tears that fell fast
and burning on his cheek, she soothed
with low and plaintiVe song, which float
ed round the turret chamber, soft yet
melancholy as the silvery dip of the oar,
when it breaks with regular cadence the
moon-lit wave:


. Hush, my babe, hush-dost thou hear not the


neigh


OF the steed that impatient awaiteth the day?
Seest not yon barque that rides idly the foam,
Gliding the pilgrim who loiters at home?
That steed and that barque are bound for the
land


Where the scimitar CLEANS in each pagan hand,
Where pale crescents shine from dark folds


that wave


Der lnfdel Emir and treacherous slave.


Who shall at daybreak that chatting ~steed ride?
What pilgrim doth yon idle vessel abide?
His foot in the strip, his grasp on the rein,
And win-shod they sweep over valley and plain;
His step on the deck, his voice in command,
And the sails of that barque like pinions expand,
The slender masts bend, through pillows they


plough


Heaven shield that brave pigrim-he's lost to
us now.


Ny heart foels-and oh! how that feeling doth
burn!


The barque of that pilgrim wilt never return;
His brow will be blanched by the desert winds


breath,


Or plague spots declare the dread angel Of DEATH;
And my soul will droop helpless, crush'd, with
ered and broke,


Like tender vines torn from the stem of the oak,
Which its heart-strings embraced-but thou my
babe, thou


Above all shall be honored-for thus did he


VOW"


"And he comes this moment to fulfil
that VOW" She started at the well known
voice, brushed away the remaining tears,
and smiled, though family and sadly