Page:010 Once a week Volume X Dec 1863 to Jun 64.pdf/288

280  she will be just as much pleased, and I a deal better."

"Can't have the pleasure of serving you; I'm not going to do it, I tell you. Though for speaking in the way you do, you deserve it a deal better than you do the love of the prettiest and best girl that ever breathed. So now I shall leave you to get out of that hole you have jumped into the best way you can; and bid you good morning till the next time we meet, when I hope I may be able to knock a little sense into that hard head and jealous-mad heart of yours!"

So saying, the Corporal turned away, and going back into the road, told Giulia that Beppo had escaped safe and sound to the other side of the river by taking such a jump as no man ever took before; and that they had nothing for it but to return by the way they had come, and hope for better luck another time.

He admitted that, fearing they might possibly miss their object by waiting till the time named in the note discovered by his comrade, he had determined on keeping watch at the ruined tower; and that on seeing her start on her walk the previous evening, he had felt no doubt at all that her purpose was to warn Beppo that he was waited for, and that the only way to lay hands on him therefore was to follow her, without letting her know that she was watched.

"And now, what does he think of me?" said Giulia, with a sob that seemed to burst her heart.

"And what will he think when he knows all, signora? Think of that. He shall know all, trust me for that. I would not shoot him just now when I might have done it, and ought by rights to have done it, on purpose. If he don't think and feel that he is the happiest fellow in Christendom, and that no man was ever blessed by the love of such a girl before," said the Corporal, speaking with immense energy, "he must be a bad fellow,— and I don't think he is a bad fellow at bottom. Shall we have the honour of escorting you home, signora?"

"No, please, Signor Caporale; I must return alone as I came. I must indeed, please! I must get some rest before I can walk home. I should like to sleep a little. They will be very angry with me at home. Perhaps you will have the goodness, Signor Caporale, to say that I am coming home;—that you have seen me; and—and—perhaps, if you don't mind, the best thing you could say, would be to tell them that I went away secretly to try to warn Beppo that you were after him."

has had many sorrows; spare her this!"

(I cried in anguish,) but stern Azrael

Shook his pale wings and vanished. "Is it well,

(I asked,) to smite the smitten?" "Yea, it is,"

Spake the Death Angel as he fluttered on.

—Oh! breathe into his lips, poor Queen, thy breath,

For love like thine is stronger far than Death;—

God's love is stronger yet. His will be done."

So spake again the angel; from his brow

All sternness vanished; with unfolded wing

O'ershadowing the widow of our King,

He said, "I am thy guardian angel now.

Thy heart is pierced with arrows I have sped,

Thy life is crushed and broken with the blows

That I have stricken; 'tis to me thy woes

Are owing all—thy Son and Husband dead.

Yet thou wilt live to bless me. I can teach

Such lore of love, such secrets of Thy God,

As thou couldst never know, unless my rod

Had smitten thee with torment beyond speech.

And on that rod such glorious flowers shall grow,

So sweet and full of healing, thou wilt yearn

To kiss and press it to thy heart, and learn

That Perfect Bliss is born of Perfect Woe.

The babe, the husband thou hast lost

Will love thee still in Paradise,

If with meek wisdom thou art wise

To learn the bliss of being crost.

Oh, taste! oh, drink this precious balm,

'Twill dry the bitter tears thou'rt weeping;

And sure they're best in Christ's own keeping—

Thou'lt gain at last a solemn calm,

And joy, in finishing his husbandry

And garnering in the golden ears

From corn fields watered with his tears,

Whose glorious ripening he might never see.

And when to heaven thou bearest the full sheaves

The Royal Reaper had not time to gather,

Thou'lt hear the loving welcome of the Father:

Blessed is she who works, and prays, and grieves."

W. W. F. S., December 7, 1863.