Burlington free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1827-1865, 1855-02-23

distinct marks Ot two powerful hands. Ana
then it pointed to its heart and looking
saw the broad stain of blood above it. And
then heard her voce-I swear | was not
whisper softly, Mary and then 1t said,
still more audibly, murdered =
And then the figure vanished, and suddenly
the whose room was vacant. That one dread
word had sounded as if forced out by the
pressure of some strong agony-like man
revealing his life's secret when dying. And
when it had been spoken, or rather walled
forth, there was a sudden sweep and chilly
rusl through the air and the life, the soul,
the presence fled was alone again with
Dca.h. The mission had been fulfilled the
warning had been given and then my sister
passed away-for her work with earth was
done.
Blave and calm as the strongest man that
ever ought on battlefield, | stood up be-
side ny sisters body. unfastened her last
dress, and threw it back upon her chest and
shoulders / raised her head and took off the
bandaye from round her face; and then |
saw deep black bruises on her throat - the
marks of hands that had grappled her from
behind, and that had strangled her. And
then looked further, and saw a small wound
below the left breast, about which hung two
or three cots of blood, that had oozed up
despite all care and knowledge in her man
ner Of murder. | knew then she had first
been suifocated, to prevent her screams, and
then stabbed where the wound would bleed
inwardly, and show no sign to the mere by
stander.
| covered her up carefully again. | laid
the pillow smooth and straight, and laid the
heavy head gently down. drew the shroud
close over the dreadful mark of murder And
tI, -. 4 ,fan hnI haat
ever since the revelation had come to mel
left the room, and passed into my husbands
study 1t was on me to discover all the
truth.
His writing table was locked. Where my
strength came from, | know not but, with
chisel that was lying on the table, | pryed
the drawer and broke the lock. | opened it.
There was long and slender dagger lying
there, red with blood; handful of woman's
hair rudely severed from the head, lay near
it. 1t was my sisters hair that wavy,
silken, uncurled auburn hair that had al
ways loved and admired so much - And near
to these again, were stamps, and dies, ana
mouds, and plates, and handwritings with
facsmiles beneath, and bankers cheques and
a head of leaden coin, and piles Of lncom-
pete bank-notes and all the evidences of a
coiners and 'orgers I9 tradefltt4hSe Seuasrrrengs
!
knowledge of which had caused her death.
With these things | saw also letter ad-
dressed to Ellen in my hushand's handwri-
ting. twas an unfinished letter, as if it had
displeased him, and he had made another
copy. 1t began with these words-no fear
that should forget them they are burnt
| into my brain never really loved her,
Ellen she pleased me, only as Il doll would
please a child and married her from pity.
not from love. You, Ellen, you alone could
| fill my heart; You alone are my fit helpmate.
/ Fly with ne Ellcn-.' Here the letter
was left unfinished; but it gave me enough
to explain all the meaning of the first weeks
of my sisters stay here, and why she had
called villain, and why he had told her that
she might tell me, and that would not be-
lieve.
saw it all now. turned my head, to
see my husband standing few PAGES behind
me. Good heaven have often thought
was that man the same man | loved SO long
The strength of horror, not of courage, up
held me. | knew he meant to kill me, but
that did not alarm me | only dreaded lest
| his hand should touch me. 1t was not death
it was he | shrank from. | believe il he haC
touched me then, | should have fallen dcaC
at his feet. / stretched out my arms in hor
ror, then thrust him back ,utt ring picrcin,
shrek and while he made an effort to seIz,
me, ovcrreaching himself in the madness o
his fury, | rushed by him, shrieking still
and so fled away into the darkness, where
lived, oh for many, many months ,
When awokc again, found that my poo
baby had died, and that my husband ha,
gone none knew where. But the fear of hi
or night for dread of him and felt goin
mad with the one hard thought for ever pitt
lessly pursuing me-that | should fall ag,ti
into his hands. put on widow weeds
for indeed am too truly widowed AM
then began wandering about wandering il
poverty and privation, expecting every mo
ment to meet him face to face wandering
about, so that ! may escape the more easil
when the moment does come.
LITERARY SUCCEss.-In Mr.. George VIM
Curtis Lecture upon Success, which he ha
recently delivered before several literar
associations, the following passage occurs
1t has "A particular interest at this time, an
is the more interesting and valuable as com
ing from one whose success has been bot
ample and varied. No one can say that it
the repining of an envious man, while al
must see that it is the sad judgement of
thoughtful one.
1.-The book that sells i. the successful'booh
Dickens and Washington Irving sold. bu
there are scores Of sickly sentimental ema'
, culated novels that sell better. Here is til
: 50,0O0th copy Of the, book cries the publisher
AMI yet it is not Il book illuminated with on
ray of genius or power, or which took an
literary rank.
| One almost breads to read "successful
t book in these days-for our standard mac
0 the publishers account-book the measure
! tba Tba Ia nG
S book may he as much matter Of pruriency a
e of mental appreciation. Should we tax
c popularity for success Popularity wa, onl
t an idle wind, usually blowing towards
S vacuum. Are you a - lion to-day becau.
you have burned the heart of the world wit
2 your ardent soul am the lion tomorrow
g because | skull across the river in woode
: dipper and you are quite forsaken. Of tn
e intense work you told me that 10000 copi
c have been sold within the last ten minute
e and agree that by such standard it
@ successful
e But tlere is book of which the man
II script wls sold for 500, at which the publis
J. er curlec his lips, and thought he had ma,
II poor blrgain yet the world holds it to i
It heart; ard it is power and n friend to eyel
IT man here. The Oldest and the most loved
d our own authors confessed that ii he h;
e any excellence, it was awakened by the tend
d touch of that genius.
e We all know his story. No man who
|, history names was loved more fondly.
re youth in manhood we hang over his swe
y pages, and confess tho charm, that tim
l. which destroys, will only enhance. lie
IS much dearer he is than johnson, Carrie
n Burke, Reynolds, Walpole. lie lived in pc
Is rooms, quarrelled with his landlady, was n
rs always sure of a dinner. The wits did L
A. ask him to drive in the Park.
The King of England did not ask his me
is illustrious subject to Court. His best frio
er smiled at him-Johnson scolded while
him-Reynolds at last hated his portrait
,e and Horace Walpole, the pet Of Lond
ce society, the son of the great Prime Ministt
ID the stripping who could select Gray, the poe
10 as his travelling companion-the literary &C
a.,.aL lul.al l.; L.. .llnl