Mineral Point tribune. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1854-1858, 1857-03-17

| A9nace beIeV9 me '. cried the huS.
band sprlnging towards her. She closed
the door between them! he turned the
handle It did not yield it was fastened
before him; he sat down beside it tc
await her return.
9 In few moments when this parox-
ysm of rage and jealousy IS over, she will
! open the door; and | shall clasp her, re-
| pentant, IN my arms =
TWAS midnight. The wind blew fierce
and high, driving before it the rain and
sIeet. The streets of that great city were
deserted. Even night-theyes, sent by
want and hanger from their dens, had re-
treated before the fury of the storm: the
Watchman no longer kept his solitary
round, but sought refuge in some door
way or covered alley, crouching before
the piercing blast.
The lamps shone dimIy ont. through
the ghastIy gloom, on damp, shining walls
and darkened windows.
Down through a by-street a woman vas
hUrrying. a cloak or shawl covered her
shoulders, but the wind blew cold and
sharp on her bare neck and arms. Her
face was pale, very pale, as she bent be-
fore the biting air, and through her dark
hair the rude gale sported her hands
were now clasped upon her bosom, then
tossed wildly above her head
She went on. on, on, not seeming to
have any point in view, bat as if fleeing,
in despair, in agony of fear from some
danger or pursuer!
II was Amnace Wisterlind
She had fled from HIM VINO loved her.
who now sat waiting for her with eager
lmpetuosity; she did not heed the way
any way pleased her if it only led from
him! She did not fear the .empest; its
blasts we'll suited her frenzied mood Al
last tired nature gave way, the fierce
spirit no longer ruled its fragile form
Painting, Agnace sank upon the wet
pavement.
In little kitchen an old man and wo-
man We're seated near a bright fire; they
were both dressed in the peculiar Quaker
costume. The man sat with his broad
brimmeG hat on, and with folded arms
gaZed abstractedly into the fire. At last
ne spoke.
oot home. surely s1rna tronbJa I-non9S,h l,o, j,
the lad abroad -
" Thou need'st have no fear; he will
soon return" answered the wife, rising;
she drew a little round table near the fire,
and placed upon it q cloth of most perfect
whiteness, filled anew the kissing kettle
that sung on the hob, and put more coal
on the glowing hearth.
" Mark will be chilled" =" she SAID fam
ming the flames.
Il hear has step IN the entry now. said
the old man.
The door was pushed open and a young
man entered. lie was dressed in the
same gray Quaker garb as the father
1t was Mark; IN his arms he held a form,
that hung InhIs grasp, without motion and
seemingly without life!
f Hurry" he cried, shaking the frozen
RAIN from his garments. No timc for
words" as heuoted their astonished faces,
bring cordia-s and ry 70 recall 70 life
this dying woman
The mother drew across the painted
floor long lounge. She placed It close
TO the fire, and brought pillows and laid
them on it; giancing sOrroWfully at the
white robed figure This arranged, she
went into an inner room in quest Of cor
diaIs.
Mark placed his burden gently on the
sofa. and razed wistfullv into the pale.
lovely face, to see if a hope or sign Of
life remained.
II think its merely faint caused by
WEAKNESS or mental excitement" he SAID,
after a moment. :. / feel a beating here"
laying his hand en- the now slightly aut-
tering heart.
:: What a beautiful creature" exclaim-
ed the Quakeress, lifting the damp mass
Is Of sunny hair; surely those Jewels
that shine on her breast and IN her curls,
look like dewdrops in the sunshiner'
Diamonds, mother =