Butte record., 1856-06-07

mulatlng officials to do their duty, and
showing capacity and zeal. He was
striklngly handsome man. and had
one of the most beautiful voices | had
ever heard. He impressed me so much
that | came home determined to de-
scribe him to Mrs. Brown.
began describing him. She listen
ed in silence, with her long dark lash
es resting on her wan, pale checks.
was dwelling on the concentrated
energy Of his manner, and the contrast
in the soft mellow of his voice.
4 should think such men would be
irresistible to women, said, Strength
in repose.'
And so they are said Mrs. Brown.
But have You ever thought what that
manner indicates? Do YOU know what
becomes Of the poor victim who is thus
graspeG by that iron hand in velvet
glove. will tell you. She shrinks,
she trembles, she crouches in submis-
sion; but she escapes-and turning,
stlngs her tyrant, as a playful, tortur-
ed, vexed serpent turns and stings!'
How this woman's voice thrilled me
through. What terrible quality had
it that made my blood freeze in my
brain! They sting. they sting! she
reiterated.
Night came again. The tree told
me horrid secret that night. It
whispered word that kept sleep from
my eyes. In the dead of night
heard foot on the stairs-I heard
a door shut above my head. These
sounds confirmed my worst imagin-
ings. The tree beckoned me out into
the stormy night threw one arm
wildly up in the air, and pointed to
her window.
The demon beckoncd me up. l
climbed up the jagged trunk Of the
tree, reached one Of the long arm-like
branches, and crept along its frail
and swaying support. A dull shining
in that room showed me TINT aconan
her pale hands bloody, her person
disguised in mems clothes and her eyes
cleaning with superhuman lustre and
fiendish triumph.
Morning came and with it crowds
of agitatcd, pale men, and women
shrieklng with terror. and news of an
other murder.
Yes, Clifford Lewis, with his hand
some cruel face, lay murdered in his
bed.
In another hour | was arrested as
his murderer.
The proof was this; mans track
was discovered leading past the old
tree, from the house i'll which he lived
to mine, aud near one of the tracks,
and clinging to the torn bark of the
tree, was my handkerchief.
l only asked one favor of the crowd
Of angry men who seized upon me as
If | were wild beast, and that was
that might write a note.
They assented; but when they saw
it addressed to the poor dying woman
up stairs they all said No.
The man is mad said one; we
viii not allow the poor invalid to be
alarmed by his ravings.'
But the grey haired young physi-
clan offered to take it for me.
wrote to her these word; BE firm
the dead sycamore and | alone know;
we are both incapable Of speaking.'
l sat on the stone floor of the pris
on awaiting the morning. knew that
| loved monster, but | loved STILL
No thought Of betraying her came to
my mind. All other thoughts-aome,
friends, ood name-were drowned in
this all-conquering sea. | recalled
my morbid sensations before saw her;
| compared that nights reflections
with my present state of feeling
Was not murderer at heart! Was
it not Just that should be punished
for the sin that | had conceived but
not committed!
Morning came, and with it my re-
lease. Mrs. Brown had confessed
the crime, and was dying. She wish
ed to see me. She was lying on q
sofa, and by her side a grave old man
held her pulse in one hand, and his
watch in the other. She opened her
eyes, and held out a feeble hand to
NE.
Poor, generous fool, did you think
I would let you die?' she said. No;
| have killed all | wished to kill. |
kept silence till my poor tools, my So
called nurse and physician could es-
cape. | needed them, and used them;
but they are innocent except knowing
me, and they are gone. How long
have II she asked Of the physician.
Not an hour he answered solemn
ly.
More than enough. I am the
wife Of Clifford Lewis. He won me
by that soft voice which you admired;
he crushed me with that iron hand that
you saw. | was high-strung, impetu-
Gus, passionate. ! loved him. God
knows bow mueh!-but de6ed him.