ADA AND WILLIE.

Western Star, Issue 52, 7 November 1874, Page 6

ADA AND WILLIE.

The morning was laden with the golden effulgence of summer, as a comely and neatly attired nursemaid passed with her young charge from the. elegantly appointed grounds of Francois A. Dumoreau, Esq., and wandered slowly down a grassy slope, towards the banks of the river Don. The scene is some half-a-mile eastward of a flourishing Canadian city, that gracefully reposes in a bay of Lake Ontario. The tidy nurse is Mary Dodd, and; her infantile eojmpanio.n,. who has just recovered from the effects of the sweetmeats consumed in celebrating her fifth natal anniversary, is Ada, the sole heiress of the splendid domain, across whose confines she has just been conducted. Francois A. Dumoreau merits a word. A. tall, handsome, austerely proud man of forty-five, with iron gray hair, an iron constitution, and whose worldly wealth has been accumulated by th,e. manufacture of iron, rises before the mental eye. Socially, morally, and politically he is pne of the notables of the colony. None of your self made upstarts is he, but a veritable gentleman who can trace his lineage, if need be, to the conquest, and wito, if called upprq can prove to a demonstration that nope, but genuine aristocratic, bipod courses- through his veins. A lordly overbearing man, who in -early manhood had squandered his substance with riotous London living, and had sought to recuperate his fortune and character by commerce and speculation in Canada, He was at once constipated a pet of the ‘ powers that be,’ and in ten years from the day of his advent he was the arrogantly-proud possessor of the, largest iron-works, 'the most colossal fortune, and the prettiest, most affected, and most supinely indolent wife of any man. on ‘‘.the other side of the line.’* Little Ada was a love of a child. Joyous as the birds that carolled overhead, beautiful as the. flowers pressed beneath her tiny feet, and to-day she sported around her nurse as frisky as a lamb, and playfully piped the sweet musical prattle of innocence. And so nurse and child were happy as girl and child could be, when they reached the sweet sylvan valley of' the winding Don. The playful spirit culled flowers, and? Mary wove them into wonderful rustic wreaths, to the huge delight of the little heiress, who rolled- among the grass, lacked u.p her heels, and fairly screamed for joy. Further yet along the glade, near the quiet, softly flowing river, was a small’ rustic cottage on the other bank, with a pale, poor clad-, somewhat emaciated boy, qf some eight winters at the. door, staring in purposeless wonderment at the nurse and the prettily-dressed- child. " Still: on, Mary in the meantime beginning to, look round with an air of impatient disappointment. Then, from behind a tree close by a soldier appears, and she is caught in his arms and kissed, amid; her blushes, apd. Ada’s astonishment. Poor Mary is in love with the gallant hussar, and she now proceeds to move on enchanted ground. With his arm around her waist, she soars above, sublunary existence, and me child-plays joyously andunheeded. Half-an-hour. of elysium to Mary, then a, quick, pitiful, terrified, gurgling shriek, and the lovers realized the awful fact that little Ada has fallen into the deep, deceitful river, Thp nurse clasps her hands, screams and faints. The huzzar pulls his moustache, and looks first at the river, and then at Mary, with helpless imbecility; while the pale, half-famished-boy- —who, has been watching up the opposite bank, dashes into the stream, and; with the. agility, of a frog, strikes towards the circling eddies where the drowning child disappeared. The tiny.form rises to the,surface, and is clutched-by the boy’s unerring hand. A brief, muscular, anxious, doubtful struggle, and the bank is reached. The soldier recovers his presence of mind, and hurriedly assists the boy to,land:his burden. But all unconsciously and motionlessly lies the little lady ;. and’ although Willie Turner has done a noble, a brave, a heroic act, the young existence hangs trembling, poised between time and eternity, undecided yet to which shore to cling. Nature, however, asserts her prerogative. The little, atom breathes and moves ; and- Mary Dodd recovers from her swoon, and-, finds, the use of her tongue. Of course, she is utterly useless under the circumstances. So, she wrings her hands, stamps her,feet, and- moans dolorously. But Willie’s widowed mother reaches the scene, and) with promptness and maternal sagacity proceeds to care for the child. By-and-bye, the little blue eyes open, the bosom heaves—tears andsobs burst forth, andt the kind woman knows the child is safe. Willie performs —all dripping as he is—a frantic pirouette, Marv kisses him and his mother; and in the fulness of fher simple, honest heart, cries, ‘Mv darling Ada will live to be your sweetheart yet, Willie !’ Prophetic words!,

Severe was the reprimand that poor, thoughtless Mary received from the aristocratic master of Chesnut Park. \ Her account of the accident was frightfully mixed up and incomprehensible. It would never do to involve her huzzar ; so she explained and wept in a breath, and showed the occurrence in a more, inextricable web of confusion than ever. Finally Mr Dumoreau gave up questioning her, called her. ‘ a stupid wretch, talked of sending her about her business, and so forth. The mother gently rubbed her delicate white hands, and ejaculated ‘ Dreadful!’ ‘ Frightful !’■ ‘ Grood gracious !’ Meanwhile, the child has gone quietly to sleep. Next morning she rose blithe and cheerful, and exhibited no symptoms of her- terrible fright the previous day. The nurse, too, was sufficiently collected to inform her- master that the fishermanwidow’s son, Willie Turner, had rescued Ada from a watery grave.

This revelation did not mollify the haughty father. In his pride of heart he felt he was under an eternal obligation to a ragged plebeian hoy. But ho had no choice, under, the circumstances. So he prudently made a virtue of necessity. He sent for the widow, inquired with much condescension of her worldly ways and means, made her a splendid present, and offered to send Willie to school. It was not much, certainly. Yet in the poor woman’s condition, with pinching poverty threatening her on every side, the comforting thought her only boy would be educated for the battle of life burst through her heartgloom like the rainbow from the shower.

Willie, was sent to an academy m the nearest city, and forthwith began to spell his way thorough books, and through, the. years, until he became a bright, handsome, lithe, strong lad. Providence that tempers the winds to the shorn lamb, also cared for the widow. She had acquired a modest legacy, and she was now removed beyond the sharp stings of want. Ada budded like a lovely flower that promised gorgeous beauty in its mei-idian splendour. Mary and she afterwards often, walked-by the Don, and the young heiress was never tired to listen to the story of Willie’s bravery on her behalf. Time moves on lightning wings. Tomorrow will, soon be yesterday. The words we this moment articulate leave our lips, and forthwith pertain to history. Tears are born, and, to most of us, depart, leaving few prominent landmarks behind. And so it was with Ada Damn.reau and Willie Turner, One great peak, ope. Alpine, pinnacle., alone, stood out in bold- relief on the life page of each. Destiny —for so in our ignorance we must speak—had declared that the hoy should-save the girl’s life ; and'circursv cumstauces, aided by Mary Dodd’s gossiping tongue, had conspired to kindle in the young hearts the recipient spark of affection. No opportunity was lost by Mary of rehearsing into the ear of her young mistress the bojinden duty of loving, Willie. And- so, for years, whenever the simple-hearted nurse could contrive a meeting, the boy and Ada—who was the greatest child- of- the. trio—held sweet converse together; babble of future air castles and their inhabitants, and irrevocable, promises in kisses allround.

Thus their intercourse, till there came a certain evening—ten years after the ■river catastrophe—when the three were to meet together for the last time; for ,on the morrow Mary was to marry the hussar, and Ada, was to proceed to a distant seminary. In sweet secrecy and unconsciousness had the young god spread his beauteous wings, and now the .star looked ‘beauty upon the beautiful\ as the youthful pair awoke to the thrilling, afflicting realization of first and passionate love—when, alas! the aureate dream was about to fade ere it had scarcely existed. A few minutes to-night added years to the youth’s life. He, for the first time, reflected of Ada’s wealthy proud father, in the suporh hall, in contrast with his meek and levelj mother, in the humble cot. Ada’s future lay on the gilded paths of life ; his, amid the dusty tracks of toil. She would be the prize of some high-born .’aristocrat, while he, —Ah! what ? j But her- parting tears bedewed his ’cheek, while she sobbed; “.Oh, Willie ; . dear, dear, Willie ; I cannot—cannot live /•without you—and Marv!”

j So with rushing, blinding tears, and choking bosom, bursting sobs and many "and oft promises of love and constancy, Ada and Willie experienced their first real separation : and sadly seeking a sleepless pillow, each wearily exercised their young:, mind in trying to scrutinize the, unwritten tablet of: the mysterious to be. During the next fifteen months, Ada was being grounded in accomplishments, and Willie was acquiring , the profession of a civil engineer. They had not mot since we first saw them, but a few surI reptitious letters of the gushing sort had been exchanged between them.

Christmas and its holidays, and its joyous prospective reunions , was approaching ; and, in anticipation of the season, Willie had written to Ada a tender- missive in which he hnpassienately bared Ms heart. By a fatal coincidence the train that carried Willie’s, hillet doux also conveyed to Ada her haughty father and through, the operation or connivance of those fates of - furies who ever contrive that the course of true love never shall run smooth, the stern, pitiless, unforgiving eye of Mr Dumoreau first rested on the tender oil spring of the young man’s affection.

The aristocrat was stricken dumb, like, a powerful man stricken with paralysis, ho positively shook and trembled with the contending emotions that moved him. Then he found words, and his wrath was terrific. Heavens and earths 1 could it be ? A daughter of his, in whose blue veins, circulated the rich crimson tides of all the Dumoreau—in love—actually in love —with a wretchedly insignificant, poverty-stricken menial! It was too much Thou the correspondence —all—everything, was too horrible! Bather would he see her dead at his feet. Why was ho not permitted to drown!with the wretched, meddling boy years before, rather than this disgrace should fall on his ancestral escutcheon ? Then he grew calmer, and sternly declared he would utterly repudiate, disown, and forget her, unless she at once fell on her knees before him, and solemnly declare she would never see, speak, or write, or have any communication whatsoever, with the fisherman's son in the f uture, so help her heaven !‘ But she would not kneel. Neither j would she swear —-nor, indeed, promise 1 And the pale, palpitating girl confronted her sire with unquailing eye and com--1 pressed lip, that clear! v proved to him that his daughter possessed has pride, and his firm unyielding nature as well. Still, she was only a girl—hardly seventeen—and the stern anther of her being commanded the position. She was placed under, strict surveillance. She saw no Christmas cheer, nor heard Christmas welcome, nor saw her home, or Willie. Her. existence was transformed into the barren, cheerless solitude of the recluse; and though she carried a haughty front, hope began to wither in her young bosom, Then the implacable father matured another plan. He would take his daughter to Europe, and keep her there until she recovered from this hideous insane infatuation. So in the furtherance of his design, Ada was transported across the ocean, aud made an unwilling resident of the beautiful capital of sunny France. Her father was her constant companion. His mammon worship was laid aside for a season ; and he concentrated his energies to the accomplishment of the dearest wish of his life—the education, marriage, and settlement of his daughter. Willie now wondered, and fretted, and fumed at the non-appearance of Ada at the Christmas time. He wrote other tender letters to her ; all of which were received’, anathematized, and fiercely burnt bv her furious father. Finally, he was electrified to learn from a local newspaper that F. A. Dumoreau, Esq,, and daughter, of Ohesnnt Park, had sailed for France. $

This was the end of his dream. And yet many a love thought went wandering back to the rich golden memories of the past. Alas !' Fortune’s sun had sunk in gloom just when the promised day was at hand. Then he settled down anew to severe study; and thought harsh, misanthropic things respecting rank, fortune,, and humanity generally.

Four years of Paris, and fashion, and gaiety, were added to the existence of Ada. The old wound meanwhile had never been reopened between the father and daughter. She had grown very beautiful. Everywhere she was admired.

Still Mr Duraoreau had not found a suitable match for his daughter. It was strange 1 She was the recipient of increasing, untiring attentions, she was the cynosure of admiring eyes. Still there were no proposals, so far as he knew, for her hand, "Francois A. Dumoreau couldn’t understand it. She did. Perhaps some of her worshippers also knew, to their sorrow.

It occurred to the sire that longer sojourn in Paris was useless. Ho would remove her charms to her native market. In the meantime, he was satisfied the dead past had buried its dead. He felt sure of that; and so the young lady and her parent were borne safely across the western billows to Quebec; and from thence up the St. Lawrence by the splendid river steamer the Queen of the Lakes. “ Three o’clock! the boat is due at the wharf now,” said Mrs Dumoreau, as she languidly reclined in her carriage, and awaited the arrival of her husband and daughter, on, a bright placid July afternoon.

A handsome voung man, with a theodolite under his arm, heard the half peevish remark started reflected

changed colour —and bolted behind the warehouse, where he could see all, and , yet not himselfbe perceived. How his heart beat! while ho cursed his folly, and almost reasoned himself into the propriety of hastening from the scene. “ Tire’s a ctesbiny that shapes our. ends. Rough how them as we will.” He remained rooted to the spot. The boat hove gaily into sight, and like a huge thing of life glided over the translucent water, onward —onward! The passengers became plainly visible on the steamboat’s deck. Handkerchiefs are waving on board, and responded to by the throng on shore. The young-man behind the warehouse eagerly scans the passengers. Over a hundred feet distant he recognises the haughty father of Ada. Now he plainly discovers her, but oh! how beautiful, how changed. “ Merciful Heavens!” A wild bursting crash, like echoing thunder! A flrmanent of hissing steam ! A universal maddening shriek! A blinding tempest of splinters 1 Three hundred human beings blown into eternity! Fifty others convulsively struggling in the wreck-strown water ! There a solitary affrighted shriek.; here a bubbling cry, as some exhausted sufferer sank for the last time 1 Amid the desolation, a human being was seen to madly leap from the wharf, into the settling watery chaos of death and suffering. It is a young- man. He had marked with prophetic eve, where the one fairform was hurled into the waters. True as inspiration, he had found the spot; and now willing eager hands pull the deathlike pair from the threatening £>rave. Frantically the young man kisses the pale inanimate features, that show no symptoms of returning life. But the recording angel has not yet written her name in the awful hook, and Ada awoke to consciousness in Willie’s arms, to find she had lost a father, but was indeed restored to “ A nearer one vet, and a dearer one still, than all others.” And when the days of mourning for her parent were ended, she mingled her life with that of the noble vonth by whom she had been twice snatched, from the very portals of eternity —by w-hoju, sha had been twice saved.