Orleans independent standard. [volume] (Irasburgh, Vt.) 1856-1871, 1865-10-20


wanted him to wed Dorcas Oakley.
| thought a poor girl like you be-
meath him. | told him you loved
that cousin who came to your house
so often; and when your letter came
he believed it. | never meant to
drive him from home and kin; but
he went, and the last words he said
we're, 'Sabrina, my heart is broken
And all these years he has wander
ed over the world a lonely, sorrow
ing man; and /, his sister, the cause.
And she-Dorcas-oh, you know my
lover Tilted me for her; all the place
knows that"
Hooked at the poor dying woman.
| was trying to forgive her, but |
could not help speaking harshly.
"I am only a stranger" said
"What | have suffered is nothing to
you. But had you no mercy on your
brother You have had time to re-
Ipent.
"Time p she said. ''Yes Hannah
Fanthorn, it seems like eternity .
but have sought him in vain; for
years | thought him dead. Yester'
day | learned that he is alive, and
not many miles distant. Old before
his time, they say, but he lives
Look" she e continued drawing q
packet from under her pillow, ain
this | have written the truth. 1t
shall be sent tomorrow. 1t is di-
rectcd plainly. IfIdie in the night
| it can 90 all the same. VIII and
you may meet again, and be happy
when am under the turf"
Then she began to wail-"Don't
leave me; don't leave me to die
alone !"
sat down by her.
"Do not fear," | said. "and try to
think of other things. Forget earth
look to heaven"
[ never left her. Sitting by her
side on the third night | saw change
come over her face, and bent over
her.
"Hannah Fanthorn," she whisper
ed, shave you forgiven me ?"
"As | pray God to forgive me, J"
/ answered.
Then fainter still she spoke:
"Be kind to Will. lie loved you,
OH to think that | should have lost
my soul that you might not be my
sister-you who seem so like one
nowv'
And with those words there came
a look into her eyes | never shall
forget; and in the Christmas dawn
she lay on my arm dead.
On Sunday they buried her. The
graveyard was full. Every on c
came to see Squire Haslet's daughter
laid in the great vault. | Istood near
it, but though the solemn words Of
the preacher rang in my car, and the
coffin was before my eyes, and /
should have thought of nothing else,
my mind would wander away to the
past-and | saw VIII as | used to
see him, and myself, as in a mirror,
young and blithe, leaning on his arm.
Then | found myself praying for the
dead woman, and mlrmuri1g, "God
forgive her, for she knew not what
she did y
| came back to the present with
start and a thrill. They were closing
the vault. And beside the clergy
man, speaking to him in whisper,
stood tall man, with foreign look
about him and a heavy hat slouched
over his eyes; a man all in black,
with hair dark as night, but with
here and there a silver thread, Why
did my heart beat so as | looked at
him? Surely | had never seen that
man before! !
turned away and went home
ward. The path lay by the old Hall. !
paused q moment to look at it
Every window was shut. From the
broad front-door and from the necks !
ofthe stone ions on the porch stream
ers of Grape refloating. Oh, how
often | h ad seen every window
ablaze with lights, and heard music
and dancing feet and laughter from
without And now, in the winter
twilight-for at five the day was
nearly done, and the clouds lowered |
heavy with coming snows-now how
dark and cold it was And yonder
in the graveyard lay, in their grim
vault, master and mistress, and she
who had been the pride of their |
hearts, the toast and beauty of the
region-Sabrina Haslet. And Will
where was he?
TIE gloom, the scene had just |
witnessed, the memories, were all
too much for me. / bowed my head |
upon the cold stone Of the gateway, /
and wept. @Gone, gone, gone y L |
cried, and the sobbing wind among
the branches overhead seemed to re-
peat the words, "Gone. gone, gone !"
| had heard no step on the soft |
snow: had seen no shadow. l /