The Evansville daily journal. [volume] (Evansville, Ia. [i.e. Ind.]) 1848-1862, 1850-06-03
From the Lady's Book. ]
THE BROKEN VOW,
BY MISS ELIZA A. DUPUY

BY MISS a. DUPUH.
Twilight was dnrkening into night the first
faint star of evening cleaned from the far
blue heavens, and the hush and repose of ma
ture seemed too holy to be broken by the
strife of human passions; yet how painfully
with the passionate grief of young heart,
mourning over its first sorrow.
Ellen Sinclair was a newly welded bride.
She was but seventeen; the youngest daugh-
ter of her father's house, and the spoiled Pet
of the whole family, her life had passed as
one long bright day of sunshine and flowers.
She had been wooed by one she had known
from childhood. and with the consent of their
mutual friends they were united.
The day after Their marriage the bridal
pair left her farhers house for the residence
of Mr.. Sinclair IN one Of the interior counties
OF Virginia. A few happy weeks passed,
when Sinclair PROF. oSed to his bride to visit ii
gorge in the neghborng mountains, from
which the rising sun frequently presents the
singular spectacle ofthe looming Of the noun
tain-the same phenomenon which is witness
ed in the straits of Mcssina. and known by
the more poetic name Of Fata Morgana, or
The castles Of the fairy Inorganic. Ellen was
delighted with the prop osed excursion. and
searched every book in the house which at
iorded any information on the subject.
! This excursion which promised so much
! pleasure ended in despair and death. They
reached the desired point in safety. The NOR
nong was favorable 10 her wishes; the ascend
ing vapors caught The rays OF the rising sun
and formed themselves iuto the most gorge
Gus and fantastic scenes. Ellen was SO much
absorbed in this wonderful and magnificent
spectacle. that she forgot the caution Sinclair
had given her at the moment of mounting her
spirited steed. lie turned from her side an
instant to speak TO the servant who followed;
the movement startled her horse; the rein
was lying loose on his neck, and feeling linn
self free from a guiding hand he dashed off
at full speed. Sinclair and the servant both
followed, but were unable TO overtake her
Fortunately she met a gentleman who sue
ceeded in stopping her perllous career. Sin
clair checked his horse too suddenly, that he
might express his thanks TO her preserver.-
The animal reared and threw HIN with great
violence. He was conveyed home iii sense
less state, and surgical assistance hastily sum
moned but The force of the fall had inflicted
some internal injury which batfled the skill OF
the physician.
II was beside his bed in that calm twilight
that the young wife knelt with scarce a hue
Of life upon her features.
| sob, Ellen, my beloved, calm yousell-
| this sorrow unmaus me-" nlurmured The dy
ing man. passing his hands caressingly over
the head which twas bowed upon his pillow.
! A deep suifocated sob was the only reply
| to his words.
alt is hard to die" he continued "when
I was looking forward TO years of such tran
gull happiness with you, my sweet Ellen; but
/ Ills the will of heaven, my best beloved, and
we must submit
81 Oh Henry, my own Henry. you must go
down to the cold. cold grave, where can see
you no more-pever more hear the tones Of
your dear voice. Oh it will break my heart"
was the almost inartculate reply.
! My poor Ellen, this is a hard trial for
| you, hut you are too young TO greve always
| The thought is torture to me, but-even you
may love again--may wed another p and his
voice was nearly stifed with painful emo
tions.
"Nevcr. never! Oh, Henry, how can you
harrow my soul at this awful moment with
such eupposilon! Wed another Give
the wreck OF nv buried affect ons to another !
| Oh, no. no the thought would kill me-"
IL doubt not you think so now, love but
time works strange changes IN this world of
ours. We know not what we may do.
wish to exact no promise from you. The
thought is bitterly painful TO me, but should
| your present views change, do not wish
| that the reproach of broken promise should
mar your peace of mind.
Henry, hear me,' said Ellen. in a solemn
tone Should ever so far forget my faith
| to your ashes as to lend my ear to the Ian
guage of love, my heart to The voice of lfec-
lion for another, may your form OH my bridal
/ evening come IN me and reproach me Tor my
unEithfuness.
| A bright smile passed over the face of the
/ diving man He murmured-
- Repeat those words again, my Ellen;
they take from death It's siing-in heaven you
will be all my own. Forgive my sefishness
dearest; hut have so loved you, cannot
think that another shall win--n
! His voice ceased to arliculate, and again
the deep tones of the young mourner thrilled
the air with a reperItion of those awful words
As they passed her lips, she felt The hand
that casped hers relax its grasp-a faint i1ut-
tering consciousness seemed 10 hover no
ment on his features, and in another instant
they wore the calm and passioniesa repose of
death.