Leona

“ On reaching the upper plain, she does not stop—even for the animal to breathe itself—but goes on at a reckless gait, and in a direction that appears undetermined. Neither hand nor voice are exerted in the guidance of her steed—only the spur to urge him on.
Left to himself, he returns in the track by which he came. It leads to the Leona. ”

“ There are many in the town that are sure of his innocence, but too few I fear--
"He is innocent! he is innocent!" cried Leonora, with her brow burning, and her cheek pale. "He is innocent as a babe. I will go down--I will return with you--I will see my father--I will save him or die with him."
"But, lady, they will let no one enter the town," said Leonardo; "they have trebled the sentries at the gates. All may come forth who will, but no one can return. ”

“ She found the great painter standing in the midst, and gazing at some fine pictures which ornamented the walls.
"Welcome, signor," she said--"most welcome to Imola. No other house must be your home while you are here than this, or my father's palace in the citadel."
"Your pardon, bright lady," said Leonardo, gazing at her, "my home is ever an inn, and I cannot sacrifice my liberty even to you."
"You are wise, maestro," answered Leonora, somewhat gravely. "No man should sacrifice his liberty to a woman, nor any woman to a man. ”

“ Lorenzo! Lorenzo! you have made my misery! Pray God that you have not made your own too. What has become of good Leonardo's auguries? what of his dream, that by the features you could read the spirit? But it matters not. I will steel myself to meet you, should you come--to gaze upon this fair wife you have preferred to Leonora, and who, men say, is so light, and so unworthy of the man I thought you. Perhaps she may suit you better than I should have done; for God knows she cannot be more fickle than you are. Yes, the momentary madness is passing away. ”

“ Old people have only to pray and sleep. But, indeed, you had better come to rest; we have all to rise betimes."
After a word or two more, Leonora parted from her lover, and soon seeking her bed, lay down and dreamed, but not asleep.
As if the painter had heard her light foot on the stairs, she had not been gone a minute when Leonardo appeared. He took Lorenzo's hand eagerly in his, and said, in a low, earnest tone:
"Let her not go to Rome, I beseech you, young gentleman--let her not go to Rome." ”

“ It is a new creed I have got, but I think it is a good one."
"Old creeds are best," replied Leonardo, seriously. "We can advance from one to another, as we can mount the steps of a temple to the holy of holies, but each step must be founded upon that which went before, and each must rest upon truth."
"Alas! where shall we find truth?" asked Leonora; and then she added, in a melancholy but sweet tone, "Let us not approach painful subjects, my good friend. We cannot meet without thinking of them. If we speak of them we shall think of them still more. ”

“ Twice Leonora drew back the curtain and looked out. Once she asked, "Where is my father? Is this all true, signor maestro, or am I dreaming still?"
"Your father is at the citadel waiting for the French and Roman lords," replied Leonardo. "All is real, my child, and happy is it that it is so; for both Antonio and I had nearly been too late. The number of men we could introduce last night was too small; and, had you not left the postern key in my hands, the Lord of Vitry and the French forces could hardly have entered ere the axe had fallen." ”

“ ACT I. Scene I. An orchard before Leonato's house.
[Enter Leonato (Governor of Messina) , Hero (his Daughter) , and
Beatrice (his Niece) , with a Messenger.]
Leon. I learn in this letter that Don Pedro of Arragon comes this night to Messina.
Mess. He is very near by this. He was not three leagues off when I left him.
Leon.
How many gentlemen have you lost in this action?
Mess.
But few of any sort, and none of name.
Leon. A victory is twice itself when the achiever brings home full numbers. I find here that Don Pedro hath bestowed much honour on a young Florentine called Claudio. ”

“ Can the red-skins have murdered her?” and used as the “Crow-Killer” was to scenes of blood, he shuddered when he thought of Leona lying dead on the prairie and the beautiful red-gold hair hanging at the belt of some savage chief as a trophy of victory.
The pipe was passed around, and when it had completed the circle, the old warrior, the uncle of the “White Vulture,” who was called the “Thunder-Cloud,” spoke.
“My brothers are in council; their hearts are brave like the great white bear; their tongues are straight as the arrow. ”

“ I have not tried to make the girl love me, but I will try now, and if she does love me, that’s all I ask for in this world”—and the young guide’s face shone with a smile of happiness as he leaned upon his elbow and thought of the golden locks of the pretty Leona, to him the prettiest girl in all the world.
“You’re right, Dave,” said the “Crow-Killer,” thoughtfully, “a good woman’s love is a treasure in this world ”

“ How?” she cried.
“The white hunter’s life belongs to the ‘White Vulture.’ If the ‘White Vulture’ says ‘Go free,’ no warrior in the Crow nation will dare say ‘No.’ If the Singing Bird will promise to come and sing in the lodge of the ‘White Vulture,’ the white hunter shall return to his people.” And the Indian bent his full, dark eyes upon her as he spoke.
A few moments Leona hesitated; she could save her lover’s life by sacrificing her own, for she knew full well that death would soon claim her as his own should she remain in the wilderness. ”

“ Don’t she ride by his side nearly every day at the head of the train? Hasn’t he been bringing her flowers from the prairie, and don’t she always stick tight [Pg 28] in the wagon whenever he’s out on a scout or a hunt, and the moment he returns, don’t she always get tired of being in the wagon and want to ride? Why, it’s as plain as the nose on my face. I tell you, father, what little sense Dave Reed has got is all tangled up in Leona’s red hair. ”

“ Yes, it was she, it was Leonora, with this difference only, that this fair girl was a northern version of the Leonora of the south, but was none the less beautiful on that account. “Oh, Leonora, you child of the sun and of Nature, am I really to be so blessed, am I to find you here again—here where my heart was congealing, and longing for the sunny rays of delight from a fair woman’s eyes? Yes, Leonora, this is your sweet smile and kindling, childlike glance; it is you, and yet it is not you. God and Nature were reflected in your countenance, a whole heaven shone in your features. ”

“ Beauteous Leonora! how little sensible are you to the charms of love! Did you know how to love like me, you would delight in secret to receive my vows; and, for some time at least, to conceal them from your father as from all the world. Oh! who can paint the charms of that mysterious intercourse, in which two hearts indulge, united by a passion as intense as pure." "It may have charms for you," replied Leonora; "to me, such intercourse would bring but sorrow: this refinement of tenderness but ill becomes a virtuous maiden. ”

“ No, Leonora always appeared to me at her best in a blue tailor-made. Then her glorious hair wasn't deadened by her white shoulders. Certain women's lines guide your eyes to their necks, their eyelashes, their lips, their breasts. But Leonora's seemed to conduct your gaze always to her wrist. ”

“ Now that’s just the way this case stands, as near as I can fix it.”
“But, I say, Abe, you’ve forgot one thing: she’s a well brought-up girl, been educated and all that sort of thing, an’ my bringin’ up has been rough; mighty little schooling I’ve been through,” and the young guide shook his head thoughtfully.
“You’re a durned sight better educated than I am,” said Abe, “an’ I reckon I can hold up my head with any man on the upper Missouri; besides, that ain’t every thing; a man must have brains too. This Miss Leona is a sensible gal, I take it ”

“ With dawn came hope, came the jocund reassurance of the sun, of the familiar greetings and services and customs. It seemed impossible that tragedy could be lurking behind that kindly commonplace. Leonora’s spirits rose with the morning, heightened with the glowing day. Had the conquering glory of her beauty served her hitherto so implicitly to fail her now? If jealousy were at the bottom of this resentment, she carried the sweetest antidote to it in her bosom. ”

“ The tall slightly-stooping girl, with her flat figure, her plain shabby serge frock, her tired white face, and the sinister glance of the idealist in her great, fretful eyes, seemed to stand there and accuse the whole of Leonora's existence. Utterly absorbed in the imminent examination, her brain a welter of sterile facts, Rose found all the seriousness of life in dates, irregular participles, algebraic symbols, chemical formulas, the altitudes of mountains, and the areas of inland seas. ”

“ Do not sorrow for Lychorida, you have a nurse in me. Your beauty is quite changed with this unprofitable woe. Come, give me your flowers, the sea-air will spoil them; and walk with Leonine: the air is fine, and will enliven you. Come, Leonine, take her by the arm, and walk with her.' 'No, madam,' said Marina, 'I pray you let me not deprive you of your servant': for Leonine was one of Dionysia's attendants. 'Come, come,' said this artful woman, who wished for a presence to leave her alone with Leonine, 'I love the prince, your father, and I love you. We every day expect your father here ”

“ There are others to whom you are necessary. Leonie, I must tell you, great sin though I am committing in doing so. My darling, I love you with all the soul in my body, with all the strength of my being. Can you not see it? Do you not know it? Leonie, what have I said to cause you to look at me like that?"
"You love me?" she whispered, the words more a breath than an articulation—"you love me?"
"Dearest, can you doubt it? I know that I am the greatest scoundrel living, to tell you so. But how can I see you in such distress and not speak, when my heart is full to overflowing? ”

“ It was Philip at last who spoke. Bending he touched the other's shoulder.
"Come," he said. "Diane must not know."
"No," said Carl dully. "No—she must not know. I—I am not myself, Philip, as God is my witness—" He choked, unable to voice the horror in his heart. A man may not raise the knife of death to his one friend and speak of it with comfort.
Rising, Carl stumbled blindly in the wake of the tall figure striding on ahead. They halted at last at a wigwam on the fringe of the camp. Philip lighted a lantern, his white face fixed and expressionless as stone. ”

“ But I believe—and other women believed with me—that no man on earth ever felt and expressed love like Leoni. Superior to other men in evil and in good, he spoke another tongue, he had another expression, he had also another heart. I have heard an Italian woman say that a bouquet in Leoni's hand was more fragrant than in another man's, and it was so with everything. ”

“ Oh, Kenny!" There was quick compassion in her eyes.
"Let's not think of sorrowful things, dear!" said Kenny swiftly. "I dreamed of a lantern."
"And I," said Joan, the rich rose tints he loved flaming in her face, "I dreamed of you."
Kenny choked back the tender untruth he would have liked to utter. For an instant he hated the little old fairy in the green cloak who had come forth from the hill in his dream. How easy for the dream-god to have made her—Joan!
"Joan," he said wistfully, "you're sure you love me!"
"Yes," said Joan. "There is no one in my life I love so well." ”

“ Why life might slip away, and Leonora never be mine. The present only is ours in this fleeting world of change, and we must not let it fly from us unimproved. Yet Mona Francesca will certainly oppose. At all events, she will wish to consult some one, to shield herself under the opinions of others from the world's comments. On Leonora only can I rely, and on her must I rely alone. Here, Antonio, ride up beside me here: I wish to speak with you."
The man rode up, and Lorenzo questioned him much and often. ”

“ But the restless young nomad on the road ahead, sniffing the rare, sweet air of early summer, had already relegated the memory of her long-suffering aunt to the forgotten things of civilization. For the summer world, sweet with the scent of wild flowers, was very young, with young leaves, young grass and flowering, sun-warm hedges, and beyond the Sherrill place on the wooded hill, the sun flamed yellow through the hemlocks.
"Oh, Johnny Jutes! Oh, Johnny Jutes!" sang the girl happily, with the color of the wild rose in her sun-brown cheeks. "It's good—it's good to be alive!" ”

“ Enter Leonora. Alon. When nature ends with anguish like to this, Sinners shall take their last leave of the sun, And bid his light adieu. Leon. The mighty conqueror Dismay'd! I thought you gave the foe your sorrows. Alon. Oh, cruel insult! are those tears your sport, Which nothing but a love for you could draw? Afric I quell'd, in hope by that to purchase Your leave to sigh unscorn'd; but I complain not; 'Twas but a world, and you are—Leonora. Leon. That passion which you boast of is your guilt, A treason to your friend. ”

“ This poor Leonora, in her craven frenzy, condoned in her mind the offences of the monster in whose relentless grasp she now felt herself writhing. Her leaning towards him, her desire to propitiate, was like a lust. She would swear herself his creature, his sympathiser, his fellow-passionist, if only he would accept and spare her as such. Do not blame her over-harshly. The spirit crazed with fear of darkness has no volition but towards the light. ”