Lady Trebor's Secret, OR THE MVSTERY OF CECIL ROSSE.

Patea Mail, Volume III, Issue 210, 14 April 1877, Page 4

Lady Trebor's Secret, OR THE MVSTERY OF CECIL ROSSE.

[Bv Jins. ILmuukt Li-nvis.] CHAPTER I. Ik Tin-: r.uAox ruuusT. Ik tljo miißt of )liii Black Forest, in Germany, lit*? hidden the picturesque village of Zorid/. Off the usual route-.s of travel, it is seldom visited By tourists, tuul still preserves its primitive simplicity of manners, costumes, ami living. Its quaint houses, on either side of its two steep ami narrow streets, resem hie the toy-hou.*es of Nuremberg manufactureThe principal occupations of the inhabitants arc the breeding and training °t song-birds ami the carving - of wooden toys. The annual visits of the agents who purchase, birds and toys tor the great marts form the principal events of life in Znrlitz. The din and bustle of the great world never penetrates to this secluded spot; the eaves, passions, and anxieties of struggling existence in cities and towns are unknown to those simple peasants, who toil patiently, keep their old-time festivals, and live out their ipilot lives in the homes they have inherited, content, and even happy, in their narrow lot.

The principal building in tlic villa,go is the little wooden Luthcrat church, the only house of worship in Zovlitz. It stands upon a hill overlooking the hamlet, and close in its shadow is the pastor’s house, a quaint timbered dwelling, with steep roof, many balconies, and wide windows, set in a large garden which in their brief season is ablaze with flowers, The pastor of this little flock, a year or two ago, was Hon* Brocken or bather Erockomas ho was affectionately called by his people. Ho was a Gorman, of course, tall, gaunt, .and scholarly-looking, with gray hair anti bent figure, a kindly, simple-hearted man, devoted to his hooks, and finding in them and in his charge all that his soul best loved. Ho had been graduated from the University of Gottingen, and had been for some years thereafter a tutor in a noble family in the Grand Duchy of Baden. He had married, when quite elderly, a middle-aged governess, who had been employed in the same family with himself, and chance, or providence, throwing- in his way the. pastorate of the little church at Zorlitz, he had accepted the humble charge with thankfulness, and had settled down in this out-of-the-world spot to the practice of his ministerial duties and the study of ids beloved hooks. Hero he had dwelt twenty years, the father, pastor and guide of his simple people ; here his wife had recently died ; and hero he hoped to bo buried. He was childless, his family consisting of an old housekeeper ami a young girl kown as his niece.

This niece of the Herr Paster was the idol of the good people of Zorlitz. She tended the peasants in their illnesses ; she visited the quaint old houses like a sunbeam, bringing with her always warmtli and sunshine. She assisted the old school-mistress in her daily labour, instructing the maidens in the arts of embroidery and lace-making, in which she was herself proficient. The cbiklicn followed after her in her walks, happy in winning her smiling notice. And, more than all, she was the light of the old parsonage, the joy of the Herr Pastor’s life ; the one being whom be regarded with deep and special tenderness. One afternoon in June, at the time wo have indicated, Tlorr Brocken s niece came forth from the little school-house, her self-imposed task for the day over, and, after making a call upon a sick old woman, began the ascent of the steep hill in the direction of the parsonage. When half-way up the slope, she turned aside into the woods, pursuing a shaded path at a leisurely pace, swinging her broad-brimmed hat by its ribbons from her arm, and carolling - a German song in a sweet voice that roused the birds to emulation. She was no prim, meek maiden, this niece of the Herr Pastor’s —no patient young woman, content with her lot and seeking nothing bettor. She was no square-built, heavy-laced fraulien, slow of step and perceptions. She was about seventeen years of age, tall, slim, and graceful as a gazelle, with a beauty unmistakably English, and yet more unmistakably patrician. Her forehead was broad and low and very white, and was crowned with masses of crinkling, ml-broAvn hair. Her nose was a delicate aquiline, her upper lip short, and exquisitely curved, betraying at times an unconscious haughtiness ; her mouth tender, sweet, yet often mutinous in its expression. Tier complexion was of a delicate pallor, far removed from all suspicion of ill health. The crowning glory of this marvellously lovely and spirited face was the eyes, which were large and luminous, of a reddish-brown color, like her hair, and with a golden glint in them ; deep, dusky, haunting eyes, just now expressive of girlish discontent and unrest. This girl, with her wonderful beauty, which would have made a sensation in the queen’s drawing-room, with her exquisite refinement of looks and manner that declared her gentle birth and breeding, possessed a grandly generous nature, a warm heart, and impulsive temperament, and, withal, a personal magnetism that attracted every one to her.

81ie had been thoroughly well educated, the good pastor and his wife having gloried in her keen intellect, and in her thirst for knowledge. They had taught her various languages of Europe, music, for which she had a positive genius, ’ drawing and painting, and various feminine arts ; but her accomplishments were among the least of her charms. Tim path came out upon a spring, whose clear pool was shadowed by bending trees. This was a favorite resort of the young girl, ami she sat down upon the green bank, the song dying on her lips, and a strange gravity overspreading lies face*. " Üb, dear !” she said, sighing : “ 1 am so tired of this dear, stupid old Zorl.it/. I wish that I could see something of the world outside. J. have read of the groat towns, of different peoples, of life beside which ours is stagnation. I am growing - discontented. -Must I live here all my life, and die, and be buried here, knowing nothing of any 1 letter existence? If it were not for leaving uncle I’d bog to be allowed to go somewhere as governess. But I can’t leave him, and he will never leave Zorlitz. And yet I’d give half my remaining life for a change—it 1 might only' go somewhere and sec something of the world.”

Did some mischievous spirit hear her complaint and resolve to grant her wish ? For a change in her life was close at hand—a change greater than oven her vivid imagination would have dared conceive. That very hour was the last she would ever know of commonplace existence. Perhaps it was as well she could not read the strange future before her, else she might have shrunk from it in terror and misgiving, preferring the safe shelter of the Zorbit/ parsonage in the depths of the Black Forest to the whirling vortex, the perils ami troubles lying in wait for her in the great “ world outside..'” Slic was still musing discontentedly when a sudden rifle-shot rang out sharply upon the air—a deer went flying past—and a stinging pain in the girl’s left arm sent a thrill of faintness quivering through her. A low cry escaped her lips as she realised that she had been shot. That cry was echoed from the horrified lips of two huntsmen, wiio bounded into the glade, and halted abruptly at sight of her. By Jove !” cried one, speaking in the English language. “ A perfect Diana, Glonham! And you've shot her !” The other raised his hand in an imperious gesture, commanding silence, and advanced towards the fainting girl, his countenance still wearing an expression of horror, in which were now mingled a deep pity and keen remorse•fulness.

The pastor’s niece had fainted quite away by the time ho had veaehed nor. Flinging down his unlucky rille, the young man devoted himself to her recovery with peculiar gentleness ami reverence, and with an assiduity that speedily recalled her to consciousness. She opened her eyes upon the strangers, blushed vividly, and arose, unsteadily to lie) - feet, retreating a few paces. “ A perfect little queen ! ” cried the gentleman who had before spoken. “ Who would have dreamed of finding such a magnificent little beauty in tins wilderness ! I say, Glcnbam—” The girl’s pale face Unshed scarlet. “ Pardon,” she said, speaking in English, with an accent as pure as that of the gentleman, “ but I understand English.” The two young men were, for the moment, covered with confusion. Then the one who had been called Glenbam addressed himself to the young lady, avowed himself the author of her injury, lamented his own awkwardness, and begged to be permitted to examine lidarm to ascertain the extent of her wound, and to endeavour to alleviate her suffering. His evident sorrow, his chivalric courtesy, impressed the girl, who quietly gave assent, and permitted him to examine her atm.

My friend, in liis chagrin at his awkwardness, has forgotten to introduce himself,” said the gentleman who had first spoken. “ Permit mo to remedy his deficiency. He is Gordon, Earl of Glenham, of Yorkshire, England. And I have the honor to be his very good friend, Maldrcd Grafton. We came on an exploring' and hunting expedition to these wilds, little expecting to find here a fellow-country-woman. The young lady acknowledged the introductions with a how, and responded : “ I fear that I cannot lay claim to the same nationality with yourself. lam Cecil Posse, the niece of Herr Brocken, the Lutheran pastor of Zorlitz.” An increased pallor and sudden compression of her perfect lips brought Lord Glenham hastily to her assistance. She pushed up her sleeve, displaying a white and rounded arm that would have been the admiration of a sculptor, ami the young carl shuddered at the gaping, bleeding wound his bullet bad made in traversing the dainty flesh. While be bathed the arm in the water of the pool and bandaged it to prevent the further flow of blood, Cecil Rosse surveyed him and his companion attentively. To the girl, reared in that secluded region, seeing, beside her aged relative, only the rude pheasants of Zorlitz, young Lord Glenham appeared a very deini-god. fTO BE CONTINUED,]