The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1867-08-08

tresties. A lighted candle, cIuclilx, ana
some white flowers were Oh table near by.
Julie Dorine was dead.
When NJ Dorine heard the indescribable
cry that rang through the silent house, he
found Philip standing like ghost in the
middle of the chamber.
On the previous night MadeInoiselle Do
rine had retired to her room in seemingly
perfect health. She dismissed her maid
with a request to be awakened early the
next morning. At the appointed hour the
girl entered the chamber Mademolselle
Dorine was sitting IN an arm chair, appar-
emily asleep. The candle had burnt down
| to the socket book lay half open on the
carpet at her feet The girl started when
she saw that the bed had not been occupied
and that her mistress still wore an evening
dress. She rushed to Mademoisele Dorine's
side. 1t was not slumber. 1t was death.
| Mademoisele Dorines wealth, her beauty,
the suddenness of her death, and the ro-
nance that had in some way attached itself
to her lovo for the young American, drew
crowds to witness the funeral ceremonies
which took place in the church in the Rue
d'Aguesseau. The body was to be laid in
NJ. Dorine's tomb in the cemetery Mont
martre.
This tomb requires few words of descrip
ton. First there was grating OF hlgraned
| iron; through this you look into small
| vestibule or hall, at the end OF which was a
massive door of oak opening upon a short
| flight of stone steps descending into the
tomb. The vault was fifteen or twenty
feet square, ingeniously ventilated from the
ceiling, but unlighted. 1t contained two
sarcopnagi the first held the remains of
Madame Dorine, long since dead; the other
was new, and bore on one side the letters
J. D., in monogram interviewer with heurs-
de-lis.
The funeral train stopped at the gate of
| the small garden that enclosed the place of
burial, only the immediate relatives follow
ing the bearers into the tomb. A slender
wax candle, such as is used in Catholic |
churches, burnt at the foot of the uncovered
sarcophagus, casting dim glow over the
centre of the apartment and deepening the
shadows which seemed to huddle together
in the corners By this Pickering light the
coffin was placed in its granite shell, the
heavy slab laid over it reverently, and the |
oaken door revolved on its rusty hinges, |
shutting out the uncertain ray Of sunshine ;
that had ventured to peep in on the dark
ness.
Mr.. Dorine, muffled in his cloak, threw
himself on the back seat of the carriage,
too distracted in his grief to observe that
he was the only occupant of the vehicle.
The rattle of wheels had died out of the
air when Philip opened his eyes, bewildered,
like a man abruptly reused from slumber.
He raised himself on one arm, and stared
into the surrounding blackness. Where
was he? In second the truth flashed up
on him. He had been left in the tomb
While kneeling on the farther side of the
stone box perhaps he had tainted, and in
the last solemn rites his absence had been
uunoticed
His first emotion was one Of natural ter
ror. But this passed as quickly as it came
Life had ceased to be so very precious to
him; and If it were his fate to die at jules
side, was not that the fulfllment of the de-
sire which he had expressed to himself
hundred times that morning9 Was it not
cowardly to yield up without a struggle the
life which he should guard for her sake
Was it not his duty to the living and the
dead to face the difficulties of his position,
and overcome them if it were within human
power? The vague fear of the supernatural,
that would affect most men in a similar
situation, found no room in his heart he
was simply shut in a chamber from which
it was necessary that he should obtain re
lease within a given period. That this
chamber contained the body Of the woman
he loved, so far from adding to the terror of
the case, was a circumstance from which he
drew consolation. She was beautiful
white statute now. Her soul was far hence;
and if that pure spirit could return, would
it not be to shield him with her love? 1t
was impossible that the place should not
eugender some thought of the kind.
Philip CHANGED to have in his pocket a
box of wax-tapers which smokers use. AT.
ter several Intellectual attempts, he succeed
ed in igniting one against the damp wall
and by its momentary glare perceived that
the candle had been left in the tomb. This
would serve him in examining the fasten-
ings of the vault. If he could force the in
ner door by any means, and reach the graf
ing, of which he had an indistinct recolIec
ton, he might hope to make himself heard
But the oaken door was immovable,ga Jas solid
as the wall itself, into which it fitted air
tight. Even if he had had the requisite
tools there was no fastenings to be removed
the hinges were set on the outside.
Having ascertained this he replaced the
candle on the floor, and leaned against tn
wall thoughtfully, watching the blue fan of
fame that wavered to and fro, threatening
to detach itself from the wick. Sat all
events, he thought, ''the place is ventia-
ted" Suddenly Philip sprang forward and
extinguished the light. His existence de-
pended on that candle!
He had read somewhere, in some account
Of shipwreck, how the survivors had lived
for days upon few candles which one of
the passengers had thrown into the long
boat. And there he had been burning
away his very life.
By the transient illumination of one of
the tapers, he looked at his watch. 1t bad
stopped at eleven,-but at eleven that day,
or the proceeding night? The funeral, he
knew, had left the church at ten. How
many hours had passed since then? Of what
duration had been his swoon?
He picked up the candle, and seated him
self on the stone steps. He was a sanguine
man, this Wentworth, but, as he weighed
the chances of escape, the prospect did not
seem encouraging. Of course he would be
missed. His disappearance under the cir
CuulstahOeo "outu surely alaf'h Ills LIlenus;
they would institute a search for him; but
who would think of searching for live man
in the cemetery of Montmartre? The Pre-
feet of Police would set hundred intelli-
geuces at work to find him; the Seine might |
be dragged, les mtserabjeS turned over at
the dead house; a minute description of him |
would be in every detectives pocket; and |
he-in M. Dorine's family tomb
Yet, on the other hand, it was here he
was last seen; from this point a keen detec-
tive would naturally work up the case
Then might not the undertaken return for
the candlestick probably not left by d esigu? !
How long could he keep life in himself?
With unaccelerated pulse he quietly cut
the half burned candle into four equal parts |
''To night, he meditated Il will eat the