Wyseby

30 WYSEBY : A LEGEND
their bosom. The grey veteran who spoke paused
not — a hero that ; he dashed forward, — a plunge, —
he buffets old Ocean lustily, — he conquers ! A few
moments, and with his lovely prize he stood on the
deck of that brave vessel again.
" Where is he ?" sighed Edith, slowly opening her
eyes.
" Ho, to the charge ! Bear them down ! See how
they fly !" rung wildly through the vessel.
" Father of mercies !'' shrieked Edith, and rushed
down the companion ladder. On reaching the cabin,
what a fearful sight met her view ! A warrior sat
erect on a narrow couch. By.almost supernatural
strength he had hurled his attendants— who sought
to restrain him — aside. Away at a distance they
stood. The warrior's features were ghastly pale ;
a scarf encircled his brow ; his hands were clenched,
and tossed high in the air ; his eyes glared fear-
fully. " Charge ! charge ! " shouted he, yet more
wildly. " Ha ! ye give way, cowards ! Cleave him to
the earth! Perdition " " Reginald!" sighed
Edith. "Ha!" shouted he, "she is there — there!
Secure her ! Bear her away ! Ha ! ha ! Victory !
Ha! ha!" and he sunk, exhausted, on his couch.
Poor Edith ! She knelt over the prostrated, senseless
form of the strong, skilful warrior, and bathed his
pale face with her tears, and fanned his burning brow
with her wet hair, and rejoiced when she saw signs
of returning life. But alas ! he revived only to renew
the imaginary conflict, and to sink exhausted as
before. A fearful sight, that strong man madden-
ed by visible wounds, — but more by wounds hidden,
viewless. And that maiden — a holy sight that !
Angt-ls looking down, smiled sweetly upon her.