 | The Baroness of New York |  |
II.
The season passed and the hero passed,
Passed as hundreds before had done,
Melted away in the summer sun,
Like fairy-frost from your window slant
Where palace and castle and camp are cast
But a night, for the fairy inhabitant.
Passed as hundreds before had done,
Melted away in the summer sun,
Like fairy-frost from your window slant
Where palace and castle and camp are cast
But a night, for the fairy inhabitant.
The season came, and he came again;
Again in the season he galloped through
The populous lane of the Avenue:
Tossing his head and toying the mane,
Galloped the lion, Sir Francis Jain.
Again in the season he galloped through
The populous lane of the Avenue:
Tossing his head and toying the mane,
Galloped the lion, Sir Francis Jain.
His strong, black steed on his haunches thrown,
Struck hard and plunged on the clanging stone,
And threw white foam in the air, and beat
The upward air with his iron feet
Where the Baroness came. Her marvelous eyes
Were wide with wonder and a sweet surprise.
And then they fell, and the lashes lay
Like dark silk fringes to hide them away;
And her face fell down to her heaving breast,
And silent Sir Francis half guessed the rest.
Struck hard and plunged on the clanging stone,
And threw white foam in the air, and beat
110
Where the Baroness came. Her marvelous eyes
Were wide with wonder and a sweet surprise.
And then they fell, and the lashes lay
Like dark silk fringes to hide them away;
And her face fell down to her heaving breast,
And silent Sir Francis half guessed the rest.
The man bowed low. Then over his face
There flashed and flooded some sudden trace
Of mad emotion. Quick it passed
As lightning, threading a thunder-blast.
He lifted his hat, turned, bowed again,
Toyed a time with the tossing mane,
Threaded his fingers quite careless through
The curving, waving, silken skein,
Leaned him forward, loosened the rein,
Looked leisurely up the Avenue;
Then smiling on all with a cold disdain,
Forward galloped Sir Francis Jain.
There flashed and flooded some sudden trace
Of mad emotion. Quick it passed
As lightning, threading a thunder-blast.
He lifted his hat, turned, bowed again,
Toyed a time with the tossing mane,
Threaded his fingers quite careless through
The curving, waving, silken skein,
Leaned him forward, loosened the rein,
Looked leisurely up the Avenue;
Then smiling on all with a cold disdain,
Forward galloped Sir Francis Jain.
“I will give you house,” said the butterman's son,
Jerking his thumb, as the boor was wont,
Back over his shoulder, at a brown-stone front,
“I will give yon house to anyone
That tells me who this man may be.
To you, my lawyer, old friend,” said he,
“I will give a job indeed that will pay—
A job that will pay, the very day
You place in my hand the thread to the rein
That will bridle this fellow, Sir Francis Jain.”
Jerking his thumb, as the boor was wont,
Back over his shoulder, at a brown-stone front,
“I will give yon house to anyone
111
To you, my lawyer, old friend,” said he,
“I will give a job indeed that will pay—
A job that will pay, the very day
You place in my hand the thread to the rein
That will bridle this fellow, Sir Francis Jain.”
Quick, plucking the butterman's son aside,
Then throwing his cane over shoulder and back,
As the man disappeared up the populous track:—
“He rides like the devil!” the lawyer replied,
“But listen to me. Hist! step this way,
I am your man, sir, to make it pay.
I have a secret, and I hold the rein
To bridle your rival, Sir Francis Jain!”
Then throwing his cane over shoulder and back,
As the man disappeared up the populous track:—
“He rides like the devil!” the lawyer replied,
“But listen to me. Hist! step this way,
I am your man, sir, to make it pay.
I have a secret, and I hold the rein
To bridle your rival, Sir Francis Jain!”
And he plucked the man by the broadcloth sleeve
As he led him aside in the dusky eve.
Then standing aside from the populous place,
The friend looked friend right square in the face.
And the lawyer spoke cautious and wagged his head,
And winked at every slow word he said.
As he led him aside in the dusky eve.
Then standing aside from the populous place,
The friend looked friend right square in the face.
And the lawyer spoke cautious and wagged his head,
And winked at every slow word he said.
“He rides like the devil. But this is plain,
And men have marked it again and again—
He walks as if he dragged a chain!
And that is your cue! Sir Francis Jain
Is a convict of Sidney, and has worn a chain!”
And men have marked it again and again—
112
And that is your cue! Sir Francis Jain
Is a convict of Sidney, and has worn a chain!”
The two knaves parted; each went on his way,
In their vulgar parlance, “to make it pay.”
While careless and dauntless the rider dashed on,
Till he plunged in the depths of the Park and was gone.
In their vulgar parlance, “to make it pay.”
While careless and dauntless the rider dashed on,
Till he plunged in the depths of the Park and was gone.
| The Baroness of New York | |