THE WEDDING.

This plan was not to Cedric’s liking for He would fain have gone openly and claimed His bride, but for her sake he acquiesced, And in his servant’s name he took a house, A lovely house, in quiet place apart. There Lola came, and as the light of slow Descending sun proclaimed the dying day, And zephyrs laden with the breath of bloom And tuneful with the song of mocking bird, Were wafted from the sea, then from the mission Came the parish priest, and in soft accents Of the Spanish tongue, pronounced the holy Words that made them one. No other witness Than his servant and her friend. And there thro’ Long and dreamy, blissful days, they passed their Honeymoon. Morales, with his native Instinct, saw that danger hovered over Cedric; and, unknown to him, he shadowed All his steps. One night a messenger in Haste came to the door, told Cedric that his Servant was in trouble, needed him; he Went, not knowing that his faithful Jose Shadowed them. When near the water front the Stranger fled; and from the cotton bales and Freightage piled upon the dock, two ruffians Sprang on Cedric. When the light of morning Dawned, the lifeless forms of Simon Blake, Ben Rubideaux and poor Morales were found Lying on the bloody dock. All night Lola Paced the floor in anguish, list’ning for the Footsteps that came not. Nor knew she of the Tragedy until she read: “Murdered! In the Night! Two citizens of high repute shot down! But not until one of the murderers (A bearded foreigner) was killed by them. The other has escaped, but the mob is On his track and he will soon be taken.” The paper gave a good description of Her husband, which she doubted not, was given By the man who called for him. If she should Speak, it would bring harm to Cedric; he might Escape and come to her; so, taking hope, With one trusty servant she in hiding Waited there. Her friend had gone and no one Knew of her abiding place. The weary Weeks and months rolled by; she pined, and passing Near the gates of death, awoke to find a Blue-eyed baby by her side—the child of Cedric’s dreams. The months passed by and still No word from Cedric came. She, yielding to Her grief and drooping, faded as a flower That withering in decadence fades away. The rosy seraph sent—so kindly sent— From heaven to be the precious idol of Her solitude, and his, grew strong and more Angelic as the passing days went by. When the ruffians from the darkness sprang on Cedric, with ready shot, the foremost fell; But the bludgeon of the other laid him Low; then, as the fatal blow was falling, Morales coming, threw himself between; And in deadly combat grappled with Ben Rubideaux. With bowie knives they struggled, Each receiving fatal thrusts, nor yielded Until weak from loss of blood, they parting Fell; Morales’ bowie buried in the Heart of Rubideaux. Cedric lay for hours, Unconscious; then, his strength returning, he Rose, and dazed, bewildered, groped along the Frontage, stag’ring like a drunken man; the Stevedores thought him one returning from a Night’s debauch. He in the early morning, Came where a boat was loosening its cables From the wharf; and unnoticed, stumbled on And fell among the luggage in a swoon.