THE LILY OF GOLDENFERN.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXII, Issue 50, 12 April 1895, Page 23

THE LILY OF GOLDENFERN.

(By the autbor of " Tyborne." In the Aye Maria.") 1. Long ago, ia the days of St Louis and the Crusades, there lived in the heart of the Swabian forests a knight whose father had been a marauding baron before him, and had left his only son an inheritance of Boveral castles and vast estates, together with fierce, uogoverned pasgiooa, all the rough brutality of the period, and an indomitable will. 80 Baron Fritz von Thornstein was only what Baron E^pprad von Thornstein bad been. And when the neighbouring counts and barons leirdtbut he had wedded the youog Countess Adelaide of Goldcnfern they shrugg d their shoulders and shook their head?, saying : ' What ciuld Count Qoldenfern have been thinking of, to tniirry thu Lily o£ Goldenfern to the Thorn of Thornatein ? " However, it was done, the bride's wishes boing thought very uciuiportaut in thoso days. Ani, aEter all, Frita was handsome i clever ami attractive ia many waya ; and the young brida was gentle and pioui, and determined, from a sense of duty, to live in peace with berhusbanl. For some months she hoped that his evil companions would leave the castle when she became ita mistreßS. But no ; they bliU remained ; and day by day, night by night, her heart was wtll-Digh broken by scenes of violence and dissipation. After a time, and when her lord and master found he could neithtr indnce her to uphold and share in his wild career nor to remain a passive spectator of it, he came to an open rupture with her, took horse, and rode off with his boon companions to a distant castle, vowing he would never return to Thcrnsteia, The Lily of Gjidenfern drooped her fair heal beneath the blow ; but, though she bent, she did not yield to despair. She had a secret hope which supp rted her through the next few months ; and one lovely apiing morning, when all nature rejoiced, and every twig put forth fresh leaves and buds, and in every little nest was heard the twittering cf happy parent birds, the soft cooing of a tiny babe nestling in the young mother's arms broughc renewad joy and hope to tha old castle* " Father," said the happy Baroness to the old chaplain, as he stood by her sida a week later, "my little Fritz will win hia father back, lam euro. See 1 hia G.uardian Angel ia even now whispering &weet messages from above ; and the newly baptised innocent knows more than we of the ways of his Father in heaven toward the repentant sinner. Is there any news of my lord ? Has he heard, think you, of this joy 1 " The priest shook his heal sadly. There was no newa fit to breathe in the young mother's ear in the presance of her innocent babe. " Will you uot bo my messenger — the messenger of peace to my poor husband ? Go, my Father, for the love of the Infant of Bethlehem, and tell Futz that his little son awaits him, and Ibe joys of a ' ba^jpy I'.ouju may yet be hie."

"Gladly will I do your loving errand, my daughter," said the holy man ; " and do you meantime pray that my words may be acceptable to the Baron." "Ah, Father, lam sure of it I What earthly father could resist the thought of delight at seeing his first-born ? " The priest eet forth at once, and the lady waited and prayed. A few days passed, as the castle in which the Baron had established himself was in an almost inaccessible region, many leagues distant from Thorn stem . On Father Karl's return, the Baroness ro9e eagerly to meet him, holding her child io her arras. " What news, Father ? Is my lord on the way ? How B^emed he in health?" Bat she turned pale r>B she met the Father's sad gaze, and sat down again, saying : " Tell me the worst, Father; I can bear it. Is he dead ? " 11 No, my child — not dead, except to the voica of affection." " What mean you, Father ? Does be not wish to see his son and heir ? " " Alas I yes, my daughter." "Wbat, then? " " He will not see the mother." " But how — " and her voice trembled — " you cannot mean — " and she stopped, with her horror-struck eyes wide open. "My daughter, the Baron's message is peremptory, Yuu are to ■end the infant at once, by trusty hands, to his castle. He says he will not have him brought up among monks and nuns, but intends to make a man of him, and rear him under his own eye," The pale cheeks and trembling lips of the Baroness recovered their colour, and her eyes flashed with the heroic courage of a mother defending her offspring. "Never, Father I My innocent babe shall never be corrupted by snch a life." " But, daughter, what can you do ? I would say the same, but we are helpless. There are but a few old retainers and our faithful villagers around us ; your own father and all his friends and forces

are even now at the crusades. How can you protect the child here, or hide him elsewhere ? " " My Father " — and the Baroness drew herself up, holding her babe before the roughly-carved image of the Blessed Mother and Child which stood over her 2>rie-dieu,— " she who fled from King Herod's troopers with her babe knows the agony of my heart at this moment, and will inspire me with some mean 9to save my infant from a fate worse than death. Give me time to think. Even now I have an idea, but I will say nothing. How soon will he"— and she shuddered — " be here 1 " " I know not exactly, my poor child. He will wait a while probably, to see if you obey and eend the little one to him ; so perhaps in another week we may look for him." •' So be it, but he will never find his son." " Poor mother 1 Do your beßt, but much I fear all will be in vain unless it pleases the Mother of God to obtain a miracle from her divine Son." 11 If it be necessary she will do even that, Father ; but first we must try what human means she suggests. There is no time to lose. Give me a blessing, my Father, and pray for my success." " God and our Lady help you and your babe 1 " fervently prayed the good priest as he withdrew. (To be concluded.)