ised
Upon the pole the coat that he had worn,
Hoping for succor from the distant ships;
And not in vain; for ere the sun had set,
Half starved, he clambered up a vessel's side,
And found himself with friends, and on his way
To freedom, 'neath the steadfast northern star.

VII.

Two years of war, two years of many tears,
And Richard Wain, a captain of renown,
In ranks led on by error, fought and fell.

Within the breast of Coralline, Stanley Thane
Possessed acknowledged empire; all her love
Was poured out on him, and her heart
Stood like an emptied vase. Then from the North
Came rumors of his daring, and the war
Gloomed like a night about her,--he its star.

VIII.

The golden spirit in each lily bloom,
That, pollen-vestured, laughs at care all day
Had closed the doors and shutters of its house.
Forth in the dewy garden, 'neath the stars,
Walked Coralline and Ruth, sad and alone;
For Ruth was owned again by Dalton Earl.

"I grieve," said Coralline, "that Stanley Thane
Left me so rashly, and that he thinks
My hasty words were said with earnest thought.
Would that a bird might fly to him and sing--
'She loves you still, Stanley, she loves you still.'"

Ruth followed quickly, "Your wish is heard;
For I will go to him who once was here,
And say to him the words that you have said."
Then fell the other on the quadroon's neck,
And kissed her through her tears, and promised her
Her freedom, if she went to Stanley Thane.
She did not dream what impulse urged the slave,
Nor that in sending her toward the North
Bearing a message full of trust and love,
She sent a message smeared with blood instead.

For Ruth hoped now for vengeance for her past.
Wronged by her father, she would wreak her hate
Full on her sister, and destroy her peace,
As hers had been destroyed in dark dead days.

IX.

That night she stole a knife, and sharpened it,
And while she drew it up and down the stone,
Sipped from the poison nectar of revenge.
She thought of Stanley Thane, and pitied him
That he should be the victim of her hate;
But wished that Coralline could see him then,
After the violent knife had done its work,
Laid out and ready for his last abode.

X.

So Ruth arose, and when the wine-lipped Dawn,
Gathering his robes about him like a god,
Went up to the great summits of the world
From the black valleys of immeasurable space,
She passed beyond the limit of the vale.