VOLUME X. MABEL DACRE, OR, THE TRIAL OF FAITH. CIIAPTEP. I To him who in the love of Nature bolls communion With her visible forms she :peeks n v:n•i o us langonge. 131trANT'n TILINATOPSIS. RAUELT does the sun shine upon a lovelier spot than the small, secluded town of Riverdale. Shut in between high hills, that served to screen It also from the bleak north winds, it seemed to embrace within its narrow limits every ele ment of beauty ; and though from its retired situation it nfflrtled no business facilities, and therefore Contained little wealth and no style, yea to those who sought the beautiful in Nature, or for whom solitude had charms, it was a lit tle paradise. And so thought Mabel Dacre, as she sat with her hands clasped over a book o:at lay half open in her lap, and her eyes gazing earnestly and with rapt attention on the distant landscape. It was sunset, and far off in the clear horizon floated the- golden clouds curtaining the day ' god's couch. A crimson light. sefiened by that exquisite misty veil -in which Nature is so fond of adorning herself, rested like a glory upon the tops of the hills, and threw into deep shadow the quiet valley at their feet ; while upon the :river which wound elowly along, reluctant as it would seem to leave a place so lovely, a few bright gleams yet lingered. " flow beautiful," murmured Mabel to herself, as her delighted gaze took in at once the scene that we have vainly attempted to describe ; " how can any one think the world so dark and dreary ?" " I will tell you, my Mabel," said a low voice at her side, as blushing, vet smiling, Mabel turned and met the fond gaze of Walter Lee, who had advanced unperceived, so absorbed had she previously been. Now, however, she willingly lenttan ear to her lover's voice. " I will tell you ; it is because so few arc in unison with the loveliness, the repose, the purity of Nature, that they find in her no beauty ; the rain toils of ambition, the grasping pursuit of wealth, the wearying chase far pleasure, unfit men for loving that which is simple, pure and universal. You, dearest, are a true child of Nature, and you feel almost, a child's love for 4 mother, towards the beauty around you. " My sweet one," ho continued, as with de lighted eyes he gazed upon the lovely face up lifted to him in all the unconsciousness and confiding love of childhood, "my beautiful Mabel, will you laugh at my fancies if I say that I find in Nature the original of even all your charms : front the violet you stole the • deep-blue of those dear eyes, and from whence learned your hair its graceful waving, save from the tendrils of the vine : so confess now. . fair pilferer, ere I bring for ward other charges." And with these words he took the book front her hands ; it was a volume of Spenser's Fairy Queen. Mabel laughingly reproached hint for stealing so quietly upon her. •' But where have you been, Walter, this'. long, Tong day ; was so lonely, I had no one !! to read to me, so I soon tired of my needle- work, and in very weariness I wandered off to ; see the sun set." "nave you, indeed, missed me, Mabel, dar ling ; bless you for those words to me, too, it • was a weary day, in the close, dark city, but duty called me there, and I have brought let ters to the rector from London." •' Letters to my father! and from London," exelatned the surprised girl : who can he have in the great city to write to him : I have ofteit heard him say he kneW no one in London. But hark ! I hear the sunset-bell, and my father will be waiting for me for our evening service." And so saying, With one last look at the distant landscape; Aiabel put her arm fondly in Wal ter's, and with step as light and graceful as the mountain deer's, turned towards thc___ roofetLcaLtagc....43P—tti Rector of Riverdale. — "Mill you not come in, Walter," said Mabel, in soft, persuasive accents. "Not to-night," he replied ; " I have been away all day, and there are numerous duties for 1130 to fulfill crc to-morrow's round commen ces. Good-night, sweet hive," he fondly tnur, mured, as Mabel entered the house. She advanced hurriedly to the rector's study, where she found him seated in his accustomed armchair by the window, but she was struck at once with the look of anxiety and sorrow so unusual to his placid and venerable face; an open letter lay in his lap, but his eyes were closed, and his lips moved as if in prayer. . " Father, dearest father, what has happened ; why do you look so, sad," exclaimed Mabel, as she knelt at his side. , " Is it you, my child," said the old man, softly stroking her silken hair—then a sigh so • deep escaped him that Mabel was still more terrified. " Be calm, my love, my little lamb,' he murmered gently, and with accents choked and broken, " listen calmly, and I will tell you all. You know, Mabel dear, that I am not your own father, but you know not, nor did I, until to-day, that your own father is living ; that ho is a nobleman of high rank, and haying 342. Pg!MlaAll2323:wicltteltMit) L?CaolLattellGi PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY HAINES & DIEFENDERFER AT ONE DOLLAR AND FIFTY CENTS PER ANNUM. been under our new sovereign, King James . restored to his estates, he now claims his daughter, and desires me to accompany you at once to London. or at least to York, where lie will meet you." , Mabers check grew paler and paler, as she took in the full meaning Of these to her painful words ; her strength forsook her, and she sunk upon the floor at his feet— " My. father, my own true, loving natter, cannot leave you, and Walter, oh ! where can I hide from this cold, stern man, who has left me so long without a word, and now expects me to break, in a moment, the ties that constant in tercourse for fifteen years have funned ; no I will not obey this proud dictate. Say I shall not go, dear, dear fatlier, said the weeping gill, throwing herself on his neck. " Hush ! hush ! my daughter ; remember who controls our destinies ; think who it is that orders all the events of life. He has said, • Children, obey your parents," Honor thy father• and thy mother,' and shall I, one of his ministers, counsel you to disobey him. No, my precious child. dear as you are to my heart ; thought the light of this world will have gone out fur me When I no longer see my Mabel's face, or hear her soft, sweet tones, vet I. would have you go at once, my child ; and go deter mined, so far as you can under God, to please your father—render to hint the obedience that is due from a child to a parent. In one thing, however, you will be tired, your father is a Ro man Catholic ; in your religious faith be firm and steadfast ; let no persuasions induce you to give up• the simple faith of our Protestnnt church ; be strong, be prudent, and be gentle in all your intercourse with him, aild perhaps the daughter may.yet lead her father back to the pure faith of his ancestors, though," mur mured he to himself," a king's favor is a tempt. big bait." •' But Walter," tremblingly d.tered the weeping girl, who had hardly understood the rector's words, so filled was her heart with that dear image. " Walter ! must I leave him- I was so soon to be all his ; can I not write and tell my father so, and then perhaps—he might —I am sure if he only knew Walter"— she blushed and hesitated, and then stooped, wait ing in tearful sm: - pense to hear what would be said by him .hose word for fiticon years had been her law. " Mabel, my darling child, it may rot be ; you must not even dream of such a step.— Think you the noblq, Earl of Arlington would suffer his daughter to wed a poor curate ? No, my precious child, you mast give Up Walter forget hint—think only of your duly to your father, or rather, your duty to your Cod." Ile said no more, for Mabel, upon whose lor in,g heart these words fell like the sentence of! death, sunk fainting upon the floor. No words escaped from those pale lips, end not even a sigh relieved the bursting heart. " Poor stricken lamb !"aid the kind old man, as he gently raised the lifeless form, " had I but known thy future destiny this stiff:Ting at least thou shouldst have been spared—little did I dream when, fifteen years ago, thou vcrt brought, a little child beautiful as the angels, to niy lonely home, that thou Nvast one day to tread the halls of royalty." Ile laid her gently on the couch, and hastily summoning what help ho could command, watelTd fondly and anx iously the return of consciousness. And now let us review briefly the circum stances that have so strangely formed the lot of, our young heroine. About eighteen years previous to the time, at which our story commences, Robert, Earl of; Arlington, had married a young and beautiful girl, whom, though of rather humble origin, he " loved as passionately as a nature selfish as his could love ; she was frail and delicate, and dieLL soon after the-tart; first O:Pd, a daugli fer, to whom the sorrowing husband gave her , name—Mabel. His disappointment at not hav ing a son embittered his feelings for the poor; motherless babe, and two years after having, in consequence of his being concerned in,a re hellion against the reigning monarch, been com pelted to leave his country and to endure the con fiscation of his estates ; he determined to place his child in the keeping of some one whom he could trust, and who would educate her care fully ; thinking that should he ever regain his rank, she could easily acquire all the necessary accomplishments. He at once• recalled the Rector of Riverdale, of whose learning and vir tue he had often heard his young wife speak in terms of eloquent praise, as the very person to whom with the most perfect confidence he could entrust his child.. Descended from high and I even noble ancestors, and educated at Oxford, the rector was eminently fitted for the develop. ment and 'guidance of his daughter's mind ; while for her physical education, the charming and healthy situation — of Riverdale afforded ev ery facility. Hastily making his Preparations, therefore, and under cover of an assumed name, ho sent his child to the old man, with a letter stating only that, being obliged to, fly from England, he wished her to be brought up in ig norance of his ninny or station; and he.modo at Allentown, Pa., February 6, 1856. the same time ample provision for her wants as far as money could supply them. Years passed, and no tiding came of the un known father ; and gradually the conviction forced itself upon the rector's mind that he must be dead ; an opinion which fifteen •years of utter silence had tended to confirm, and the kind old man had learned to love the gentle 'ldable as his own child ; all others considered her as his niece, for as such he was to repre sent her, and she was accordingly called Mabel Dacro. But after the death of Charles, through the influence of some friends, the long banished man was recalled, and on his return having pub licly renounced his allegiance to the Established Church and embraced Romanism, his estates and titles were restored to him, and he was high in favor with the new monarch James H. whose .strong partiality for papists was well. known. Ile had _obtained occasionally some information respecting his child, and had even made a secret visit to the town, sinco his re turn, to satisfy his prcud heart as to his daughter's fitness to share in his recovered greotheA— but even his haughty spirit was charmed with the exquisite beauty and grace of 'Mabel, as she, so unconscious that her father even brut, passed before him. Re immediate ly made arrangemehts to receive her, and then dispatched the letter which had thrown the little household at Riverdale into such sorrow and dismay. CHAPTEit II And tliere were sudden partings. suet) as press The Hie frum out young heart , , and choking sighs Whielt nifer might be repeated, who could guess liesw more siwula meet the,e mutual c; cc ? CHILDE E.11:01.1). Walter Lee was the youngest son of a baro net, who, during the late struggle, had lost both life and property in defense of his sovereign.— The oldest sou died after his father, having been severely wounded at the battle of Edgehill. Walter had been intended for the church, and his education carried on with that end in view ; the sad fate of his father and only brother had contributed to strengthen his youthful inclina tion-to the ministry ; and after collecting what remained of his father's property he completed his studies, and having heard that the curacy at Riverdale, near which town his father had at one time resided, was vacant, he applied im mediately to the rector fur it, and had the gOod tbrtune to be successful. The worthy man was at once prepossessed in favor of the young scholar. whose acquirements were much above the usual standard, and whose clear, open brow and brilliant eyes scented to indicate a moan of no ordinary. char acter. And in truth his was a nature such as we seldom meet with in this every-day world full of devotion to his cause, and zealous for his Master's glory, his efforts to do good were un tiring. His was a trul7noble heart—sb strong and loyal, so open and sincere : full of all gen. emus thoughts and high aspirations, and trith , al, as tender andloring as a woman's ; with a soul that shrank in abhorrence front meanness, deceit, or tho licentiousness so common to the times, he yet felt and ever showed the kindest • pity and compassion fur the simmer. Six years hail passed since he came to River dale and Mr. Dacre loved hint as a son, for such he had long seemed to him, while Walter felt'for his venerable pastor the deepest love and reverence. And Mabel—how shall we describe her, the fair and gentle being, who from the winning simplicity and grace of childhood, had passed al most unconsciously into that loveliest period of womanhood, when as yet the heart .has lost none of its early freshness, the sweet dew 'of life's morning, and its pure affections have only expanded into fuller beauty ; its over:in-4th cal}-exlta.l-a-Fittfier perfume ; beautiful with out vanity, intelligent yet simple 'and child like ; loving, gentle and timid, yet at the same time high-souled, generous and full of enthu siastit---:ntch was Mabel Deere at sevent.Cen.— Could it be otherwise than that those two, so fitted for each other, such twin-souls as it were, should love? Silently, at first, a pure aflection sprang up in their youthful hearts ; it grew with their growth and strenghtencd with their strength ; each felt, long before any promise had passed between them, that they were no longer free, and when in low and trembling tones Walter drew from his beloved her plight- • ed troth, they both felt that no time could alter, no circumstances change their fervent, undying loge. And it was this love, the growth of years,.that Mabel was now so suddenly called upon to resign ; she had not at first, in her artless simplicity, even imagined this as the re sult of her father's letter ; it was the thought of parting for a time with him she so passion ately loved, that had caused the first sorrow. Into her pure and simple mind i t did not enter that her father would forbid her union with Walter, that ho could break ties so solemnly contracted, or sever hearts so closely united but as her ear took in the last fearful sentences of the rector, light and almost life forsook her, brain reeled, and hor heart became like ice.— lt well that consciousness failed, and !.ht, a temporary oblivion deadened the first keen pang ; but oh, that sad, dreary awakening to sorrow ; that half-shrinking, trembling dread with which we strive to recall the terrible event that has changed life, into a gloomy solitude and hushed up within us the very sound of joy. Long did Mabel strive to keep back the return of reason, to dream on in blissful ignorance, but it would come, " You mast give , up Waller you must strive to forgcl him." These words rang for ever in the dark chambers of her now desolate heart ; she knew it must be so, she felt that even Walter would bid her go, and as her opening eyes caught a viqw of her dear old father (for such he ever seemed to her) gaz ing so sadly upon her, she sprang from the bed and feebly sunk at his feet ; then her hiding her face in his lap, she wept such tears us she could never shed again ; the bitterness; of death was past, her duty was before her, and , in that sad hour the old man's prayers were answered ; strength from above inspired her drooping heart, and though in those soft eyes , the light of joy hid faded, and no gleam of brightness played around the mouth that once dimpled with the innocent mirth of an uncloud ed girlhood, yet Mr. Dacre felt, as he kissed her pure, calm brow, and gazed almost rever ently into the clear depths of those spiritual eyes, that a power mightier than the spell of earthly love dwelt in that frail form ; and his voice was almost exultant as with trembling hand ho implored the blessing of God the Path- er, the Son and the Spirit upOn her youthful' head. That evening, long after the sun had set be hind the hills, in the same lovely spot where Mabel was wont to watch his parting glories, two youthful forms sat with clasped hands and pale, tearful faces. The moon rose in all her unclouded beauty, pouring a flood of silvery ra diance over the scene ; fur a moment, the ex quisite beauty of Nature sent its wonted light to MabsVs face : then, with a faint cry of ago ny,.she exclaimed— “it is the last time, Walter—dear ♦ ,• dear Walter! I shall never again gaze upon this beauty with thee. 0, God, who makest the world so lovely, can it be that Thou rcquir est of me this sacrifice!” There was no sound for many minutes; but Walter's head was bowed as if in prayer, and his strong frame shook like a reed. " God knoweth best, my own beloved," at length he murmured. "It may be that for me this trial was sent, to teach me the herd lesson —' Little children, keep yourselves from idols.' I knew it not, but now I feel that your image reigned in the heart I had offered to my God, and that earth had more share in my thoughts than Heaven. " But, oh ! to part from yoktny Mabel—to give you up to others, my treasure, my love, my life! Oh I cannot submit—my heart is crushed under this bitter trial ! Alas ! at times I have np trust, no hope, no faith !" Say not so, my own, my noble Walter ; give up all else, but cling to .your faith ; for sake not our only strength ; think, in this ter rible parting, how tenfold would be our an guish did we not both look forward to that world where there is no more parting, 4 ul where God shall wipe all tears from all eyes.", " But, 0, my beautiful Mabel, sometimes a strange shuddering fear comes over me, that in that gay and gorgeous world where your future steps will wander, you will be so admired, courted, and caressed, that you will cease to yearn for the simple houie of your girlhood, cease to love—" . " Nay, Walter, speak not those dreadful words Say not you doubt the faith, the con. stoney of years : oh ! do not let us add this ,-41-rop t44-14611.11 - eirapn drink. Ah ! if I thought you could doubt me, I should have lost the only happiness that yet remains for mo—the thought:of your full and perfect trust in my love. Do not let us doubt each other for one moment, Walter dearest ; it would be to break the only tie yet left between us, our mutual trust." Forgive me, sweet Mabel, my beloved, once my plighted Wife—nay, let me not speak that word ! Ah ! Mad, Mabel, what have I left to live for ?" • " God, and thine own soul, beloved : let mo support and strengthen thee in this our great est trial ; for, from thy example; how often have I gathered fortitude and patience. And remember, Walter dearest, that just as full, as perfect, as entire and devoted as your lam so may be your faith in me. I ask you, as my last request, to feel this always, though it may sometimes seem hard, though years of silence may pass, for I know you can never, never for get mo !" " I do=l will trust you always, my beloved. I ask from you no promise, but, before Heaven ! I solemnly pronunco myself yours ; and should God in his wisdoin see fit to forbid our ever again meeting, my heart shall still cherish your image only, and go widowed to its grave." Night had already filled the firmament with its countless stars, ere the young lovers, for the last time, slowly and sadly wended their say to the happy home of Mabel's childhood and youth. Ah ! who can tell the bitterness of thatpart ing ; the choking thoughts that could not be uttered, the throbbing hearts whose chords had been so rudely severed ; earth had fir them no sterner lesson, the light of life is faded—well will it be if itt the darkness stars arise, and the night is holy." . CHAPTER 111. " Your holm within tho city Is richly furnished with pinto and gold, Basins and ewers, td lave your dainty hands, Your hangings all of Tyrian tapestry." TAMING OF THE SIMMS' A year had passed since the events narrated in our last chapter, and how had the time sped with Mabel. Received with a proud and de lighted affection by her newly-found parent, and welcomed with almost a mother's kindness by his titled and wealthy bride, she could not feel otherwise than grateful, and, at tithes, happy : but as increased intimacy revealed more and more to her of the characters of those whom, under God, she was most bound to obey and honor, Mabel's heart sunk, and her thoughts flew back to the simple piety and humble faith of her early teacher and guardian. The world liness, the cold selfishness, the grasping ambi tion, and slavish cringing to superior rank that she saw in all around her, was to the high souled and enthusiastic girl deserving of the most profound contempt and pity. She saw the father whom she so longed to honor and respect, fawning and bending before a monarch whom he hoped still further to propitiate, and at times ho would talk to Mabel about her own ad vancetnent, until her whole frame trembled with a nameless fear. He had lately begun to speak more sternly with regard to her neglect of the ceremonies of the Romish Church, not dreaming that this neglect arose from a de termined opposition. It did not once occur to him—so little had his own religious belief to do with conviction—that, in the mind of a young! and beautiful girl, there could be a settled and resolute preference for any particular chtwch. Mabel had, indeed, never joined in any of the rites of her father's church, but this ho had at tributed to thoughtlessness and indiTerence, little dreaming that, in her own solitary cham ber, she enjoyed the purest and truest commu nion with her Maker, and that not the sternest mandate he could utter, would tempt her to ab jure her Protestant faith. But the trial was yet to come, For some months after her arrivai At the castle, Mabel had continued to receive con stantly letters from Walter and Mr. Dacre ; but she was, not long to enjoy this gratification. Mabel, my daughter," said Lord Arlington one day, as he saw with a froWn the blush and smile with which she received an unusually large packet from Riverdale ; •• it were well i you could remember for yourself what were proper and becoming in the rank you now hold ; but since your own sense has not prompted you to cease at once all. communication with thest among whom nothing but your father's mis fortunes could have placed you, I am now corn polled to forbid your ever again receiving an) of those voluminous epistles, which, to judg from your countenance, must possess a degre of interest perfectly unaccountable. Does tb old man send his weekly sermons fur your soul' benefit ?" he sneeringly said. Mabel endeavored to reply; but her eyes fel under his cold, searching gaze ; she could no speak, as the thought flashed through her min that she should never• again see that well-knows • hand, or read those precious words of affectio from Walter, never more be cheered anti ported by the advico 'and §ympatlif - 01' him site — reve - renceriiiore than any earthly ME "Oh father, do not, do not . compel mo to give up my dearest—" She stooped, fur the frown on her father's face grew darker at this involuntary betrayal of her preference for her early friends. " Do not compel me to seem so ungrateful and proud to those, whose kindness made me what I am ; let me at least write a few words to tell them of your wishes ?" . " Mabel—l have already been sufficiently an noyed and displeased by your evident dislike to your new life, and your childish preference for your country home ; rouse inc no further by op position, strive to overcome your early prejudic es, and to remember you aro an Earl's daugh ter, and that you may bo the wife —" At this moment, Mabel uttered a faint cry of surprise and terror ; then recollecting herself, she complained of feeling unwell, and begged her father's permission to retire to her own apartment. " Go, my daughter ; but do not let a trifling indisposition prevent your being in readiness to accompany us this evening to the palace, for the king expressly requested me to bring you, and your mother has provided your toilette for the occasion : let me see my Mabel the gayest and happiest as she will be the loveliest, in the proud assembly 1" ...• INUMBEM 19. ' With a sad and heavy heart Mabel gained her own chamber, and there—seated on the floor, with her head buried in the velvet cushions of the luxurious divan, and her precious letters clasped to her bosom—she wept bitterly. Long (lid sho sit thus, with her soft, black hair hanging like a veil around her, and, her head bowed in that utter abandonment to grief, that only an impassioned nature can feel. CHAPTER IV "Oh ! her smile—it seams half holy, As if drawn from thoughts mom far Than our common jottings aro; Aud if any painter draw her, Ho would paint her unaware, With a halo around her hair." Never was the Lady Mable's beauty more transcendent than on that evening ; and as she entered the splendid apartments where ICing James held his levee, a low murmur of ad- miration arose on every side. " What exquisite creature is she, who moves like n queen by right of her own loveliness !" exclaimed a young French nobleman of the highest rank, who was visiting at the court.— " Tell me, Ormond?" he said, turning to an older person who stood beside him, " do your cold English eyes behold unmoved such a vision of beauty ; for my own part, I confess that, never upon my sight rose so peerless a crea ture." And, in truth, Mabel's beauty was of no ordinary kind ; tall, and rather slender, yet with all the roundness of contour, and -the gracefulness of childhood, every movement'had had a charm. Her complexion was exquisite ly fair, and so transparently delicate that it glowed with every passing, emotion ; her eyes large and full, were of that dark violet hue, that varies every moment,—sometimes so soft and liquid that you would have thought her a crea ture all gentleness, then flashing with the light of thought, brilliant and sparkling, as though a tear had never dimmed their lustre. At times, the mirth—so natural to her once—would play over her lovely features, glancing in dimples round her rosy mouth, and bringing to view the pearly teeth. so small and regular. On this evening she was robed in a thin ex quisite dress of the richest lace, over a satin of such lustre as to resemble woven silver, whilst on her raven hair rested a tiara of brilliants, such as a nobleman's revenue could not pun.. chase, the gift of the Queen to Lady Arling ton on her marriage. Her snowy neck and arms were circled with the same sparkling gems, and ono shone like a star on the girdle t English monarch, that had in the Court of St. James. To Lord Arlington, the king had often spoken of his dear friend D'Alcneon ; and, ever striving to add new links to the ties that bound the 'na tion to France, he expressed his wish that a union between Mabel and the young duke might be formed, adding, at the same time, that the latter would wed none but a member of his own communion. To this proposal, Lord Arlington . with much delight had acceded, and declared that his daughter could be no other than a zeal ous Catholic. It was with this plan at heart, he had so earnestly desired Mabel to be present on the evening before-mentioned, and all trans pired to the satisfaction of the ambitious pa rent. The king himself introduced D'Alencon• to the lovely Mabel, and after whispering in her oar some words of flattery, that called a blush to her fair cheek, ho left thentio converse un disturbed. The young duke's nature was more earnest, sincere, and enthusiastic than any our heroine had yet encountered, and she accord ingly listened with unusual interest to his words, and replied with more of her accustom ed spirit and vivacity than she had ever.bcforo' (TO DE CONCLUDED NEXT REEL.) 0:7-Five dollar notes of tho Bank of Susque hanna County, at Montrose, Pa., are in *au. lation. This is not now in sestet/co Loa its !u - .14a are v9ottNes§4 0 ELIZABETII BA.nnarr MID
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