The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1861-03-14

iOAO JOu' AL SWeot OluOCioho AioNSif
within its sunken eyes, and those change
full and well-loved expressions which
charmed you SO in life setting into that
fixed and rigid smile, which even in its
beauty, seems to forbid your gaze and tell
you that your part in what lies there is
blotted out forever. Oh, if you know the
grief of such a scene, need not tell what
j Ifelt, as the hours of the next sad night
wore on toward the morning.
His watch lay on the mantle-piece,
ticking as busily as ever. Oh, how strange
ii seemed to think it's masters hand would
never rest upon it more. 1 looked upon
it; the hands were pointing to the hour
Of three; the night was over and the mis-
erablo day was close at hand. I turned
away and walked toward the window l
was alone, for 1 would not permit anoth-
er to share that vigil, and the tears trick
led slowly down my cheeks as 1 walked
the floor.
Just then 1 heard once moro that low,
melancholy moan, apparently just with
out the easement, ard starting back held
my breath to listen. By the faint light
Of shaded taper upon the table, I saw
the window open. 1t was French win
dow and turned upon its hinges like a
door, and as it unfolded, figure crossed
the sill and stepped softly in. 1t was
that of woman, dressed in white gar
ments; and I saw as she crept Stealth
ly toward me, that one hand was gone.
This was no fancy; if spirits ever came to
mortal man one stood before me now.
The apparation advanced, and so did L.
Horror gave me courage, and L grappled
with it. l held it in firm, unshrinking
grasp, and found that it was solid as a
thing of flesh and blood, and that It tmoan-
cd and trembled as if in terror. Should
1 call for aid? The thing, living or dead,
had killed my poor young friend. No fe-
vcrcd imagination conjurcd up the form
and face which he believed was Of anoth-
er world.
Here it was powcrlcss in my hands,
and would exercise it or die. While
1 stood irressoluto, the light of taper
cleaned from out the darkness, and [
saw man standing by the open SASH
He looked upon the bed, and the still
thing beneath its snowy covering, upon
me and the being I grappled with, and
then whispered:
For Gods sake don't hurt her, sir
She does not know what she is doing
she has lost her senses p
"Who and WHAT'S this boing?" I ask
ed; and why does she come to the cham
Der of death at this silent hour? You
must tell me, for she is already, a murder
css p
"she is my wife," said the man eve
have lived in the same house for ten
years, and all time the she has been mad
She has not had her senses since her only
child was burned to death >in the same
fire in which she lost her hand. She was
always fond of peeping through this win
dow, and l had not the heart to hinder
her. But one night she saw the doctor
poor fellow, doing something with 8
hand, which, suppose, he had brought
from the dssecting room, and has beer
wild ever since. I have not been ablo tc
keep her from the window, or even this
room; for, you sec, she thought the hand
was her own, and wanted it back
Three times l have followed her and
brought her back-once when she had
the jar in her arms and was bringing, il
away. God help her! she would not
harm any one; give her to me and let me
take her away"
I let the wretched creature go, and he
took her about the waist very tenderly
"Do you know what she has done?"
asked
"No," replied the man. "To my
knowledge she has done nothing"
Nothing! rs that nothing" I ask
ed, pointing to the white couch. "That
F is her handiwork She killed him. Hel
presence frightened him to death"
"I hope not, sir," said the man.
"I speak the TRUTH" I muttered, bit
terly. "Take her from my sight. Oh
why did I not learn this in time Z"
"Why did I tarry on the roadside
while my dwelling was in flames, and my
wife and child enveloped in their midst