The Opelousas patriot. [volume] (Opelousas, Parish of St. Landry, La.) 1855-1863, 1857-01-31
:, has suffered much for your
give I.er." she answered "but
{ mysdlf, unbiessed as / am? But

t myself, unbiessed as i am? But
to know the truth. 30, where is
owner of all this wealth? Ny me-
mory returns now, indistinctly, from my early
days all seems a cloud but l remember Q
small cottage in a deep wood, where my mother
often came TO see me thena gny carriage took
me to q large house, but | never went back to
the wood again. There mother left me q long
time, and when she came back-Oh, doctor, l
can speak 10 more do give me something to
strengthen me, and l will yet try to live"
A cordial was administered by my WI
hands, and in a short time sleep came over her.
Night again closed in the wind had gone
as the sun set. Another cold night was ushered
in. Woe to the poorl Woe to the hungT
and fircless
The wretched mother still retained her roe
BY nightwatch and fast, and heart-carci q,
snapped. Pride and passion, so long her friends,
had now deserted her,. leaving every heart
agony deeply line-graven on her faded face.
In all my life / had never seen such a wreck /!
The proud look of selfpossession was gone,
snppliant detection filling every feature the
haaghty carriage bowed beneath a weight, as
though long years had robbed the muscles Of
their strength and plant mould. Her voice,
but Of late SO charged with repressed impulse,
was now low, and every word spoken with a
melancholy s%lowness, that but too often be-
comes the forerunner Of some great life-clangc.
AS | entered late in the evening, | found her
sitting in an easy chair near the fire. Asmall
private secretary had been brought from her
library to her chamber its lid was down, and
as ! seated myself she took from q package of
tied letters a sealed parcel and placed it in my
hand.
"Read this, doctor, at your leisure. My
pilgrimage of time is well nigh ended. You
will judge how great my sin, and how severe
my punishment has been. ] ask no forgive
ness, for there will be none left to forgive me,
but charity of feeling l beg from you for |
would not like to die knowing that you would
retain a severity of thought against one who,
however erring, had paid the forfeit by great
suffering"
She spoke for some time longer, in the same
low, indistinct voice. Well | know her heart
was nigh crushed! l soon left her, and sought
her daughters chamber.
How still everything seemed the very can
die, with its long flames parted by the t%hicken-
ing wick char, seemed not to flicker as it burnt
on l looked at the bed the sweet girl lay
with both hands crossed upon her bosom. as
though in prayer. An orange blossom had
dropped from her grasp, and lay neglected by
her side. Her life-hand never touched it more.
l placed its stem gently back in her palm-for
death had claimed her as his bride!
"A wild, piercing shrek sounded through the
house ; the erring mother now knew that she
was alone in the world!
Whilst the shrouding of the dead took place,
I retired to my room in the house, and opened
the sealed package. 1t briefly told its tale of
sin and sorrow. How from the first love
Emily was the fruit; and how, unknown to
all, the child had been secreted. That about
three years after the birth, she was married to
Harold Il, whom she never loved and
how, Ivy a singular accident, the knowledge Of
her trc:pass was made known to him.
That after violently c%ursing her, he left her,
and was shortly after found drowned. That
the letter so fatal to Emily had accidentally
dropped from her secretary, and was picked up
by her, unknown to the mother, till the day
before my return, when she missed it. 1t then
spoke Of the birth of a male child after It's
death, and that seized with an insane fury, she
had resolved that he never should inherit his
fathers name and wealth; and how, through
the conniyance of a nurse, it was placed, with
a sum OF money, at q beggar's door, and a
dead child laid beside her in its stead.
That day, before sending the child away,
she had his fathers initials tattoocd on his left
arm.-Al traces OF the child iud been lost !:
the beggar woman had died, and another had
taken it. At length her heart rcproached her,
but search had been made in vain.
AS l read this tale of crime and repentance,
memory traced out the features Of the beggar
boy, MS he stood slivering in the snow before
me. Like q sudden light it burst upon me !;
the features that had so tormented my memory
to recall were those of the unhappy mother.
Quickly | walked to Mrs. Us room she
was not there. 1 entered Emily's the mother
was clasping the daughters shroudcd body,
weeping as though her heart would break.
Gently bearing her back to her own chamber,
| informed her that another child, long lost,
might be restored to her. She listened as one
bewi!dered. 1 then Informed her of my ad-
venture with the beggar boy.
IL was hardly day dawn as I entered the
carriage. My breath Iroze against the window
panes. After a few minutes the horses stopped
before the wretched, snow-covcrcd hovel. Not
a word answered the footman's repeated knocks.
| opened the carriage door, and placed my
hand on the latch the door opened it was
neither locked nor barred, for no thief would
enter there. In q corner lay some rags, with
some straw, apparently used for a bed, but it
was un%occupied. Near the replace, where
naught but q little ashes and well charred board
remained, halfreclining in large wooden chair,
lay the beeggar boy. His cap had fallen ON
the ground, and his dark curling hair fell clus-
tcring over his extended arm rs his head rested
on it.
He had seemingly fallen asleep the night be-
fore, for his thin SIMMER clothes were still on,
and his basket, yet filled with the fragments
of broken i@easts, remained untouched at his
feet. l put my hand upon his beautiful head
it was icy cold! Quickly pushing back the
hair from his check, the unmiS.akeable evil
dcnee of death met my eye. lie had appa.
rently fallen asleep weeping, for u tear lay
frozen between the long lashes.
We raised the corpse Of the ill-fated youth
and tearing away the thin sleeve from his lcf
arm, tie letters ii. Y. were discovered in lighl
blue tints. Deserted. fam;shcd, and frozen
death had claimed the lone boy before he knew
a mothers love.
Ny0TTCE-All narsons indebted IN fbn firm