feet bore witness to a long day s travel across the
marshy mountains. Although she could scarcely
help considering her an unwelcome visitor at such
an hour, yet Mary had too much sweetness of dis
position too much humanity, not to request her to
step forward into the hut; for it seemed as if the
wearied woman had lost her way, and had come
towards the shining window to be put right upon
her journey to the low country.

The stranger took off her bonnet on reaching the
fire ; and Mary Kobinson beheld the face of one
whom, in youth, she had tenderly loved : although
for some years past, the distance at which they lived
from each other had kept them from meeting, and
only a letter or two, written in their simple way,
had given them a few notices of each other s exist
ence. And now Mary had opportunity, in the first
speechless gaze of recognition, to mark the altered
face of her friend, and her heart was touched with
an ignorant compassion. "For mercy s sake! sit
down, Sarah ! and tell me what evil has befallen
you ; for you are as white as a ghost. Fear not to
confide any thing to my bosom ; we have herded
sheep together on the lonesome braes we have
stripped the bark together in the more lonesome
woods ; we have played, laughed, sung, danced to
gether ; we have talked merrily and gaily, but inno-



280 THE TOKEN".

cently enough surely, of sweethearts together ; and,
Sarah, graver thoughts, too, have we shared; for
when your poor brother died away like a frosted
flower, I wept as if I had been his sister ; nor can I
ever be so happy in this world as to forget him.
Tell me, my friend, why are you here, and why is
your sweet face so ghastly ? "

The heart of this unexpected visitor died within
her at these kind and affectionate inquiries. For she
had come on an errand that was likely to dash the
joy from that happy countenance. Her heart up
braided her with the meanness of the purpose for
which she had paid this visit ; but that was only a
passing thought ; for was she, innocent and free
from sin, to submit, not only to desertion, but to
disgrace, and not trust herself and her wrongs, and
her hopes of redress, to her whom she loved as a sis
ter, and whose generous nature, she well knew, not
even love, the changer of so many things, could
change utterly ; though, indeed, it might render it
colder than of old to the anguish of a female friend ?

" Oh ! Mary, I must speak yet must my words
make you grieve, far less for me than for yourself.
Wretch that I am I bring evil tidings into the
dwelling of my dearest friend ! These ribands they
are worn for his sake they become well, as he thinks,
the auburn of your bonny hair ; that blue gown is
worn to-night becauses he likes it ; but, Mary, will
you curse me to my face, when I declare before the
God that made us, that that man is pledged unto



THE LOVER S LAST VISIT. 281

me by all that is sacred between mortal creatures ;
and that I have here in my bosom written promises and
oaths of love from him who, I was this morning told,
is in a few days to be thy husband ? Turn me out
of the hut now if you choose, and let me, if you choose,
die of hunger and fatigue in the woods where we have
so often walked together ; for such death would be
mercy to me, in comparison with your marriage with
him who is mine for ever, if there be a God who
heeds the oaths of the creatures he has made."

Mary Kobinson had led a happy life, but a life of
quiet thoughts, tranquil hopes, and meek desires.
Tenderly and truly did she love the man to whom
she was now betrothed ; but it was because she
had thought him gentle, manly, upright, sincere, and
one that feared God. His character was unimpeached,
to her his behavior had always been fond, affec
tionate, and respectful ; that he was a fine-looking
man, and could show himself among the best of the
country round at church, and market, and fair-day,
she saw and felt with pleasure and with pride. But
in the heart of this poor, humble, contented, and
pious girl, love was not a violent passion, but an af
fection sweet and profound. She looked forward to
her marriage with a joyful sedateness, knowing that
she would have to toil for her family, if blest with
children ; but happy in the thought of keeping her
husband s house clean, of preparing his frugal meals,
and welcoming him when wearied at night to her
faithful, and affectionate, and grateful bosom.



282 THE TOKEN.

At first, perhaps, a slight flush of anger towards
Sarah tinged her cheek ; then followed in quick suc
cession, or all blended together in one sickening pang,
fear, disappointment, the sense of wrong, and the
cruel pain of disesteeming and despising one on
whom her heart had rested with all its best and pu
rest affections. But though there was a keen strug
gle between many feelings in her heart, her resolu
tion was formed during that very conflict ; and she
said within herself, " If it be even so, neither will I
be so unjust as to deprive poor Sarah of the man who
ought to marry her, nor will I be so mean and low-
spirited, poor as I am, and dear as he has been unto
me, as to become his wife."

While these thoughts were calmly passing in the
soul of this magnanimous girl, all her former affection
for Sarah revived ; and, as she sighed for herself, she
wept aloud for her friend. " Be quiet, be quiet,
Sarah, and sob not so as if your heart were breaking.
It need not be thus with you. Oh ! sob not so sair !
You surely have not walked in this one day from the
heart of the parish of Montrath ? " " I have indeed
done so, and I am as weak as the wreathed snaw.
God knows, little matter if I should die away ; for,
after all, I fear he will never think of me for his wife,
and you, Mary, will lose a husband with whom you
would have been happy. I feel, after all, that I
must appear a mean wretch in your eyes."

There was silence between them ; and Mary Rob
inson, looking at the clock, saw that it wanted



THE LOVER S LAST VISIT. 283

only about a quarter of an hour from the time of
tryst. " Give me the oaths and promises you men
tioned, out of your bosom, Sarah, that I may show
them to Gabriel when he comes. And once more I
promise, by all the sunny and all the snowy days we
have sat together in the same plaid on the hill-side,
or in the lonesome charcoal plots and nests o green in
the woods, that if my Gabriel did I say my Gabriel ?
has forsaken you and deceived me thus, never shall
his lips touch mine again never shall he put ring on
my finger never shall this head lie in his bosom
no, never, never ; notwithstanding all the happy, too
happy hours and days I have been with him, near or
at a distance on the corn-rig among the meadow-
hay, in the singing- school at harvest-home in this
room, and in God s own house. So help me God,
but I will keep this vow ! "

Poor Sarah told, in a few hurried words, the story
of her love and desertion how Gabriel, whose busi
ness as a shepherd often took him into Montrath
parish, had wooed her, and fixed every thing about
their marriage, nearly a year ago. But that he had
become causelessly jealous of a young man whom she
scarcely knew ; had accused her of want of virtue,
and for many months had never once come to see
her. " This morning, for the first time, I heard for
a certainty, from one who knew Gabriel well and all
his concerns, that the banns had been proclaimed
in the church between him and you ; and that in a
day or two you were to be married. And though I



284 THE TOKEN.

felt drowning, I determined to make a struggle for
my life for Oh ! Mary, Mary, my heart is not like
your heart : it wants your wisdom, your meekness,
your piety : and if I am to lose Gabriel, will I de
stroy my miserable life, and face the wrath of God
sitting in judgment upon sinners."

At this burst of passion Sarah hid her face with
her hands, as if sensible that she had committed
blasphemy. Mary, seeing her wearied, hungry, thirsty
and feverish, spoke to her in the most soothing
manner, led her into the little parlor called the
Spence, then removed into it the table, with the oat
en cakes, butter, and milk ; and telling her to take
some refreshment, and then lie down in the bed, but
on no account to leave the room till called for, gave
her a sisterly kiss, and left her. In a few minutes
the outer door opened, and Gabriel entered.

The lover said, " How is my sweet Mary ? " with
a beaming countenance ; and gently drawing her to
his bosom, he kissed her cheek. Mary did not
could not wished not at once to release herself
from his enfolding arms. Gabriel had always treat
ed her as the woman who was to be his wife ; and
though, at this time, her heart knew its own bitter
ness, yet she repelled not endearments that were so
lately delightful, and suffered him to take her almost
in his arms to their accustomed seat. He held her
hand in his, and began to speak in his usual kind
and affectionate language. Kind and affectionate it
was, for though he ought not to have done so, he



THE LOVER S LAST VISIT. 285

loved her, as he thought, better than his life. Her
heart could not, in one small short hour, forget a whole
year of bliss. She could not yet fling away with her
own hand what, only a few minutes ago, seemed to
her the hope of paradise. Her soul sickened within
her, and she wished that she were dead, or never had
been born.

" Gabriel ! Gabriel ! well indeed have I loved
you ; nor will I say, after all that has passed between
us, that you are not deserving, after all, of a better
love than mine. Vain were it to deny my love, either
to you or to my own soul. But look.me in the face
be not wrathful think not to hide the truth either
from yourself or me, for that now is impossible but
tell me solemnly, as you shall answer to God at the
judgment-day, if you know any reason why I must
not be your wedded Vife." She kept her mild moist
eyes fixed upon him ; but he hung down his head
and uttered not a word, for he was guilty before her,
before his own soul, and before God.

" Gabriel, never could we have been happy ; for
you often, often told me, that all the secrets of your
heart were known unto me, yet never did you tell
me this. How could you desert the poor innocent
creature that loved you ; and how could you use
me so, who loved you perhaps as well as she, but
whose heart God will teach, not to forget you, for
that may I never do, but to think on you with that
friendship and affection which innocently I can be
stow upon you, when you are Sarah s husband. For



286 THE TOKEN.

Gabriel, I have this night sworn, not in anger or
passion no, no but in sorrow and pity for another s
wrongs in sorrow also, deny it will I not, for my own
to look on you from this hour, as on one whose
life is to be led apart from my life, and whose love
must never more meet with my love. Speak not
unto me look not on me with beseeching eyes.
Duty and religion forbid us ever to be man and wife.
But you know there is one, besides me, whom you
loved before you loved me^ and therefore, it may be,
better too ; and that she loves you, and is faithful,
as if God had made you one, I say without fear I
who have known her since she was a child, although,
fatally for the peace of us both, we have long lived
apart. Sarah is in the house, and I will bring her
unto you in tears, but not tears of penitence, for she
is as innocent of that sin as I am, who now speak/
Mary went into the little parlor, and led Sarah
forward in her hand. Despairing as she had been,
yet when she had heard from poor Mary s voice speak
ing so fervently, that Gabriel had come, and that her
friend was interceding in her behalf the poor girl
had arranged her hair in a small looking-glass tied
it up with a riband which Gabriel had given her, and
put into the breast of her gown a little gilt brooch,
that contained locks of their blended hair. Pale but
beautiful, for Sarah Pringle was the fairest girl in all
the country, she advanced with a flush on that pale
ness of reviving hope, injured pride, and love that
was ready to forgive all and forget all, so that once



THE LOVEK S LAST VISIT. 287

again she could be restored to the place in his heart
that she had lost. " What have I ever done, Gabriel,
that you should fling me from you ? May my soul
never live by the atonement of my Saviour, if I am
not innocent of that sin, yea, of all distant thought of
that sin with which you, even you, have in your
hard-heartedness charged me. Look me in the face,
Gabriel, and think of all I have been unto you, and
if you say that before God, and in your own soul, you
believe me guilty, then will I go away out into the
dark night, and, long before morning, my troubles
will be at end."

Truth was not only in her fervent and simple
words, but in the tone of her voice, the color of her
face, and the light of her eyes. Gabriel had long
shut up his heart against her. At first he had doubt
ed her virtue, and that doubt gradually weakened his
affection. At last he tried to believe her guilty, or
to forget her altogether, when his heart turned to
Mary Robinson, and he thought of making her his wife.
His injustice his wickedness his baseness which
he had so long concealed, in some measure, from
himself, by a dim feeling of wrong done him, and
afterwards by the pleasure of a new love, now appear
ed to him as they were, and without disguise. Mary
took Sarah s hand and placed it within that of her
contrite lover, for had the tumult of conflicting pas
sions allowed him to know his own soul, such at that
moment he surely was, saying with a voice as com-



288 THE TOKEN.

posed as the eyes with which she looked upon them,
" I restore you to each other ; and I already feel the
comfort of being able to do my duty. I will be
bride s-maid. And I now implore the blessing of God
upon your marriage. Gabriel, your betrothed will
sleep this night in my bosom. We will think of you,
better, perhaps, than you deserve. It is not for me
to tell you what you have to repent of. Let us all
three pray for each other this night, and evermore
when we are on our knees before our Maker. The
old people will soon be at home. Good-night, Ga
briel." He kissed Sarah and giving Mary a look
of shame, humility, and reverence, he went home to
meditation and repentance.

It was now midsummer ; and before the harvest
had been gathered in throughout the higher valleys,
or the sheep brought from the mountain-fold, Ga
briel and Sarah were man and wife. Time passed
on, and a blooming family cheered their board and
fireside. Nor did Mary Kobinson, the Flower of the
Forest, (for so the Woodcutter s daughter was often
called,) pass her life in single blessedness. She,t oo,
became a wife and mother ; and the two families, who
lived at last on adjacent farms, were remarkable for
mutual affection, throughout all the parish, and more
than one intermarriage took place between them, at
a time when the worthy parents had almost entire
ly forgotten the trying incident of their youth.



THE END.



14 DAY USE

RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED

LOAN DEPT.

This book is due on the last date stamped below, or
on the date to which renewed.



3?!:v 64dg








| - > iJ I_L)




1 mi 2 $ 64-9 DM




i Iff

. . . ,~ f /=?==^. ;




1 n ^
- **

fmmi^m.mm ffl 1 rr




Um jgm *** n

































LD 2lA-40m-ll, 63
(E1602slO)476B



General Library

University of California

Berkeley



ICLF 1



M160997



THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY