Beautiful Rienzi; or, The Secret Vendetta — page 72: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

es eee ie pt Ra Sea a EO oe eS ee wy Pe ere = ~ ~~ e— as" = ~ —= "Oe = t ‘ q> te 4 4 - — - —-* : 4 . = A J ~ ieee : ~.% = - 7 . a BEAUTIFUL RIENZI. | 65 hardly likely. We are in America, not in lawless Italy,” replied my father, with a faint smile. “This war—what if some parties, for political purposes, tore her from the bosom of her family, in order ¢ ‘* Isolina occupied too quiet a position, my dear. Who would ever dream of forcing away a private gentleman’s daughter as a spy or anything else? Your surmises are wild, my child.” This was but the beginning of many such conversations. How often we sat together detailing the simple history of the lost girl, and trying vainly to dip beneath the trans- parent scanning of the past for deeper meaning! Time slowly stretched between us and that tragic night. The dreadful death of young Beaumont gradually ceased out of men’s mouths; the interest connected with it passed away, and the unhappy fugitive was forgotten. Even the bereaved lady, Mrs. Beaumont, had ceased her efforts to apprehend her, and had left the country. Sad news came from Venice, which deepened the gloom of our lonely hearts. My mother had been so dangerously ill that the physicians had forbidden the disastrous letter to be showed her, until she was strong enough to bear it. She was now convalescent, but could not at present be bur- dened with any anxiety. ‘The time of her return was post- poned for an indefinite period. There was one more sorrow which cast its shadow over us. Miss Meredith, as soon as Mrs. Beaumont had with- drawn her detectives from the search for the presumed mur- deress, had employed another staff, whose zeal and energy were quickened by many a secret gift and bribes to a large amount. The cruelty, the heartlessness, and the injustice of this course was very hard to bear, but we bore it silently. I had one friend whom Heaven sent me in my deep affliction, who came with generous sympathy, while others gazed from afar upon our sorrow; who identified himself with us when such connection shed no luster on his name; who was kind-hearted and true in our darkest days of humiliation; and this faithful friend was Ernest Lindhurst. Ah! noble spirit that kept my sick heart from death, I kiss thy hands in love and gratitude! __ And so the bat-like wings of time heavily flapped over me, Eomicboo Ss