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

mined to try the first of his four singular
repasts. The bit of white wax was taste
less; but it served his purpose
His appetite for the time appeased, hc
found new discomfort. The humidity o.
the walls, and the wind that crept through
the unseen ventilator, chilled him to the
bone. To keep walking was his only re-
source. A sort of drowsiness, too, occasion.
| ally came over him. 1t took all his will to
| fight it off. To sleep, he felt, was to die;
and he had made up his mind to live.
Very strange fancies fitted through his
head as he CROPPED up and down the stone
floor OF the dungeon. His whole life in de-
tail was unroled before him like panora-
ma; the changes ola year, with It's burden
of love aud death, its sweets and its bitter,
ness, were epitomized in single second.
The desire to sleep had left him. But the
keen hunger came again.
Philip became conscious that the gloom.
the silence, and the cold were gradually CON
querlng him. The feverish activity of his
brain brought on reaction. He grew leth-
arglc, he sunk down on the steps, and thought
of nothing. His hand fell by chance on one
OF the pieces of candle; he grasped it and de-
vonred it mechanically. This revived him.
How strange" he thought, ''that | am not
thirsty. Is it possible that the dampness of
the walls, which L must inhale with every
breath, has supplied the need of water? Not
drop has passed my lips for two days, and
still | experience no thirst"
The minutes were like hours. Now he walked
as briskly as he dared up and down the tomb.
now he rested against the door, More than
once he was tempted to throw himself nnon
the stone coffin that held Julie, and make no
further struggle for his life
Only one piece of candle remained He had
eaten the third portion, not to satisfy hunger,
but from precautionary motive. He had ia.
ken 1t as man takes a disagreeable drug
upon the result of which hangs safety. The
time was rapidly approaching when even this
poor substitute for nourishment would be ex-
hausted. He delayed that moment He gave
himselfa long fast this time The half,inch
of candlewhich he held in his hand was a sa
cred thing to him. 1t was the last defense
against death. =.
At length, with such sinking at heart as
he had not known before, he raised it to his
lips. Then he paused then he hurled the
fragment across the tomb, then the oaken
door was flung open, and Philip, with dazzled
eyes, saw NJ. Dorine's form sharply defined
against the blue sky.
When they led him out, half blinded, into
the broad daylight, M. Dorine noticed that
Philips hair, which shor time since was
as black as crows wing, had actually turned
gray in places. The mans eyes, too, had ia
uCu Inc udFhuesS nad SpOlleQ tnelr luStre.
And how long was he really confined in
the tomb?'' l asked, as Mr.. concluded
the story.
Just one hour and twenty minutes!" re-
Piled Mr.. h, smiling blandly
Mr.. H-'s narrative made a deep impress
sion on me.
After this II was but natural should regard
Mr. Wentw With deepened interest
Mr.. Wentworth" | began, 'I-''
He interrupted me-
MY name, sir" he said, in an ofr-hand
manner, is Jones"
''Jo-J -Jonesp' I gasped.
erick"
Mr.. Jones, or whatever his name is, will
never know, unless he reads these pages, why !
a man accosted him one morning as "AIr. |
wentworth" and then abruptly rushed down
the nearest path, and disappeared in the
crowd
The fact is, had been duped by Mr.. H.
Mr., H-occasionally contributes story to |
the magazines. He had actually tried the eff /
feet OF one of his romances on mel
My hero, as l subsequently learned, is no |
nero at all, but common place young man
who has some connection with the building of
that pretty granite bridge which will shortly
span the crooked little lake in the Public
Garden.