Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1853-04-20

my own. vi lSaOel COulu ucfeI Wcdl
/ left her, sometimes, week after week, 10
make myself conscious how dear she was
to me-to know the value ofmy treasure
it was such Joy to come home to her. The
last time, proposed trip to Havana, and
embarked on my short and purposeless yoy-
age. 1t vas afternoon when j started, and,
before midnight, became aware that my
whole system was on fire with the dreaded
fever OF that clima.ea,I did not resign my
self to the care of physician or nurse, but,
with the desperation Of fmadness, went back,
by a return boat, to New Orleans. long
ed for the gentle ministrations of.my wife.
| should have risen from my death bed to
be with her once more. Alone, in the mis-
ty moonlight, | staggered to my home
Oh, the pale beauty Of that scene seems to
rise before me like vision of the paradise
| have lost. Nothing out OF Heaven could
be so lovely as that home of mine. | re-
collect entering the broad garden, leaning
against the trunk of tree, and looking at
the marble walls lustrous in the moonlight.
| | feel now the welcome fragrance of that
garden of roses-the soft night-wind seems
to lift my hair and cool the fever Of my
brow. went on down perfumed walks
The white-curtaned windows Of Isabel's
room were already within reach OF my hand,
and was putting back spray of jasmine
that crossed it, to tap lightly at the case
ment, when the sound Of voices startled
me-. ! drew back into the shadow, and was
fully concealed, when two persons cameup
the portico. An impulse--not a suspicion
made me hold my breath, and quieted for
a moment the wild, impatient, itfufp pulse
Of fever to listen. A voice spoke low, pas
sionate words of love ard sorrow, and by
its soft, delicious liquid lntonation, | knew
nv Isabel. saw her now. She stood
upon the lower step, her slender figure
draped in ustrous folds of black-th hue
of mourning sutlng so well her pale and
pensive lovtliness and her white arms
stealing oat from rich falls Of black lace
She was pale, and her long hair loose in
ripping tresses upon her barred neck and
shoulders, showed by its contrast, their daz-
zling whiteness. Her eye-lashes were gilt
tering with tears; she was speaking in
tone of touching sadness and regret. 81
cannot 60 with you-I cannot. Do not look
at me with your reproachfu eyes. Do not
tempt me | cannot-I cannot"
Her companion drew near her, stepped
out,full into the ight-a tall, dark, hand
some Spaniard, with the bold, daring air of
brigand, with naughty lip, but an eye
full Of beauty and melancholy. He might
have won an angel from paradise. He went
nearer, folded both arms around her, bent
his head to her ear, and SAID, son earth
have loved none but you, Isabel-it was
more than the love Of woman-it was the
full tide OF mans strong heart. Can he
love more-this cold hearted man from the
North? In an eternity could he feel what
this heart knows IN one day Gifts affection
Isabel, Isabel, leave him ] have claim
upon you. Did not love you long before
YOU saw him? Isabel, gowth me. have
come hither only for you. For this have
defed danger and r;sked life know it is
to poverty-I know it is 10 shame--I know
it is to foreign land-I know it is to suf-
fering--but choose can no longer stay.
This stolen meeting is the last, perhaps for
years-perhaps forever Will you go;'
Isabel had hidden her face upon his
shoulder-had flung her arms around bis
neck, and was weeping bitterly. Her whole
frame shook with emotion. ..
81 am a wretch, y. he exclaimed, "te tor
ture YOU SO. Be calm, Isabel; Only be
.caln. | ask nothing of you. Youare right,
true wife, you are right. | have been cru
ell, darling. ] ask only that you vii! love
me as YOU once did-that you will pray for
me-dream of me--sometimes see me-
Yes, | IpiiI come back TO you, ifdeath meets
me at your door," enc. ,,...
Isabel raised her head, turned her pale,
wet face to his, and SAID, sadly, 81 can do
anything else for your sake can keep
your secret-but go with you ! cannot
You will see that it is. right when your pas
sionate heart is calmer, dear Albert. I or
give me. Kiss me, Alhert!"
Oh, grew sick to the soul. think |
went mad-nsensble. i know it was day.
dawn when woke in that bower ofroses,
living stiff and chilled on the dewy grass
/ don't know where wandered believe
| to hospital and passed that day and night
among sick, and foul, and 3oathsome VIC
Tins of that hideous fever, l hoped 10 die
there; but there was fire and living agony
in my soul that kept death al bay, and de-
fed him. grew well, but there was SICK
ness Oh my brain, terrible and deadly
thought. Never till then had known of
such passion in my heart. 1t was insanity.
could not Miak-I could not reason. Two
ideas revolved perpetually in my BRAIN
that Isabel was false-that she must die
When once more looked like myself
could ! ever look myself again? | thought
Il procured slow, powerful, unerring poi
son, and went home
Isabel met me with kisses. They sick
ened me. [ saw that she had changed
She was pale, and thin, and melancholy
''Shame to her high, -heart--the conscious
ness of guilt--tbe silent self-reproach, is
worse than death, l said to myself. "She
must die slowly, gently; in pity to herself,
she shall die. Never word OF mine shall
reproach her. ...-.. ~rt =, .,
My own hand administered The poison
that deadiest, most subtle creeping poi
son. Day after day passed. No sleep, no
lethargy, no pain, no convulsions, no ago.
ny. That mysterious liquid. creeping in
every vein, had no immediate effect. |
knew it would be so. 1t was like slow
fever, consuming life.
One night there was an affray iE the
street beyond my garden. Going below to
ascertain the cause. met two men at my
door. bearing between them another, sense
less and bleeding. To my enquiries, they
answered, "Itis young Colonel Albert St.
Maur, your wifes brother. He is MORALLY
wouHtled by an assassin, and his last words