Litchfield enquirer., 1864-07-07
ter Marie, and had been accepted with her full

) consent.
 So matters had gone farther in this quarter than even myself or Eugene had suspected We did not remain much longer at madame's, but took our departure, leaving her wish the difficult task of breaking the sad news to her daughter. It must have been hard for that poor mother to tell her only child the very day after her betrothal, that he who was 50 soon to have occupied the nearest and dearest relation ship of 8 womaa,s life was dead. had met her on many occasions at her mothers house and elsewhere, and I knew that hers was na- ture which would take such grief deeply to heart. A sweet, tender, loving girl, whose whole being, I was sure, would be bound up in the man she loved, clinging to him through good and evil, 'for better, for worse"
 was right. That evening, was hastily summoned to Madame L--'s, and found Marie lying insensble. I immediately admin istered restoratives, but it was long time be- fore she gave any signs of returning conscious, ness. The mother, with her head buried in the pillow beside her daughter, wrung my heart with her sobs. tried to console Ter. I besought her to restrain her feelings for the sake of her child and this last appeal had the desired effect of making her cease from outward demonstration of her sorrow.
 With painful slowness the sick girl open ed her eyes, those soft azure eyes of hers i; but their expression was utterly void of intel ligence. For the first few moments after they had opened, they remained steadily fixed i; then they turned slowly upon me, and gradually a light seemed to be dawning in them. It seem- cd to call to her mind the cause of her pres ent condition visible shudder passed over her frame and she covered her face with her hands and wept. This was what I most desir' ed, as tears were the surest relief she could obtain, and, motioning madame to follow me, l left the room. I gave madame prescrip. ton, and strict injunctions to keep my patient quiet; and then, with my head aching and burning, and with every thing whirlipg and dancing giddily around me, I returned to my lonely chambers.
 cannot explain my sensations of that night. The occurrences of the day were jum- bled together confusedly in my brain. At one time felt convinced that must have been dreaming, aud that it was now near morning I rose up, and went to the window and looked out, but all was dark and still only the echo ing tread of some solitary wayfarer broke the silence of the night; and the street lamps seemed to burn pale, and flicker in ghastly fashion. I sat down again the dead body of George, as had seen 1t that day, haunted me like shadow, never leaving me for one mo- ment. Then the pale, beautiful face of Ma rie stood beside me-so changed, so altered. al experience, had seen so great @ change in such short time. At length retired to bed /; but it was long ere could sleep, and even when my eyes did close, it was not to rest. A strange, wild nightmare tortured me during the whole oe that night, and I rose next morn- ing unrefreshed.
 We were all examined by the chief of the criminal department of France. The chief was particularly anxious to find out with whom the deceased had been seen last. Mad anne L--'s porter swore that George had left their place at nine o'clock. He remem- bered the hour distinctly, because the deceas- ed had asked him :he time. A student named Antoine deposed to have seen George walk ing towards his lodgings shortly after ten o'clock. They had not spoken.
 Where he had been during the interval from his leaving from his leaving the house of Madame IT,, till he was seen by An toine, was now the question. But no other information was elicited at this examination and not the slightest clue was obtained of the murderer.
 Several days elapsed, during which vigor- ous search and inquiry was kept up by the DO : lice. I performed my usual duties at the hos pital. and daily visited Madame L--. Ma rie was now able to leave her chamber, but was still very weak. She spoke little, but would sit for hours, with her hands lying list lessy in her lap, gazing out of the window as if watching for the coming of one who would never come again. We endeavored to rouse her out of this dangerous state by every possi- ble means, but without avail We were com pelled to content ourselves by waiting and trusting to time to restore her to somewhat oi her old self
 During all this my thoughts were busy en- deavoring to find some object for the murder of my poor friend. If l could discover an object, I thought there might be some chance of finding the criminal. But could think oi nothing. One thing was certain, that the ob- feet, whatever it was, could not have been that of plunder, for his watch and purse were found on the body. He was not likely to have made any deadly enemies; he was of too kind disposition for that, and he mixed too seldom and with too few persons. was sure that he had not knowingly offended any one, and his mode of life was too regular and simple for him to have done so unwittingly. The public