Bradford reporter. [volume] (Towanda, Pa.) 1844-1884, 1867-03-28

gradual as to be almost impercepti
BILE to those who watched her day by
day 1t was only when she put on a
rich gala dress which she had not
worn for months that saw how was
ted the form must be ON which the
embroidered bodice hung so loosely,
and how wan and dim were the eyes
which had once been brilliant as the
jewels she wore in her hair.
| sent a messenger to Paris to
summon one of the court physicians;
but | knew that many days must
needs elapse before he could arrive
at Puy Verdun.
In the interval | watched my wife
with unutterable fear.
1t was not her health only that had
declined. The change was more pain
full to behold than any physical alter
alton. The bright and sunny spirit
had vanished, and in.tbe place of my
Joyous young bride beheld woman
weighed down by rooted melancholy.
In vain / sought to fathom the
cause of my darling's sadness. She
assured me that she had no reason for
sorrow or discomfort, and that if she
seemed sad without motive | must
forgive her sadness, and consider it
as misfortune rather than a fault.
| | told her tnat the court physician
would speedily find some cure for her
dependency, which must needs arise
from physical causes, since she had
no real ground for sorrow. But al
though she said nothing, | could see
she had no hope or belief in the heal
ing powers of medicine.
One day, when wished to beguile
her from that pensive silence in
which she was wont to sit an hour at
time, told her, laughing, that she
appeared to have forgotten her mys-
terious cavalier Of the wood, and it
seemed also as if he had iDrgotten
her.
To my wonderment, her pale face
became of sudden crimson and
from crimson changed to pale again
in breath.
"You have never seen him since
you deserted your woodland grotto?"
| said.
She turned to me with heartrend-
ing look.
Hector" she cried, II see him
every day aud it is that which is
killing me.
She burst into a passion of tears
when she had said this. | took her
in my arms as if she had been a
frightened child, and tried to comfort
her.
my darling, this is Madness" l
said. "You know that no stranger
can come 10 you in the plessaunce.-
The moat is ten feet wide and always
full of water, and the gates are kept
locked day and night by old Massou.
The the chatelaine of a medieval for
tress need fear no intruder in her an
tique garden
My wife shook her head sadly.
II see him every day." she said.
On this l believed that my wife
was mad. shrank from questioning
her more closely concerning her mys-
terious visitant. 1t would be i'll, |
thought, to give form and sub
stance to the shadow that tormented
her by too close inquiry about it's
look and manner, its coming and go
ing.
| took care to assure myself that
no stranger to the household could
by any possibility penetrate to the
pleasaunce. Having done this,
was fain to await the coming of the
physician.
He came at last. | revealed to
him the conviction which was my
misery. l told him that l believed
my wife to be mad. He saw her
spent an hour alone with her, and
then came to me. To my unspeaka-
BILE relief he assured me of her sani.
ty.
1t is Just possible that she may
be affected by one delusion," he said
"but she is so reasonable upon all
other points that l can scarcely
bring myself to believe her the sub
iect of a monomania. l am rather
inclined to think that she really sees
the person of whom she speaks
She described him to me with a per-
feet minuteness. The descriptions
of scenes or individuals given by
patients afflicted with monomania
are always more or less disjointed i
hut your wife spoke to me as clearly
and calmly as l am now speaking to
you. Are you sure there is no one
who can approach her in that gar
den where she walks 7"
Il am quite sure"
is there any kinsman Of your
steward, or hanger-on of your house
hold---a young man with a fair wo-
manish face, very pale, and rendered
remarkable by crimson scar, which
looks like the mark of a blow ?"
"My God !" cried, as the light
broke in upon me all at once. And
the dress-the strange, old-fashioned
dress ?"
! "The man wears a hunting cos
tune Of purple and orange" answer
| ed the doctor
knew then that Andre de Bissac
had kept his word, and that in the
hour when my life was brightest his
shadow had come between me and
happiness.
| showed my wife the picture in
the library, for | would fain assure
myself that there was some error in
my fancy about my cousin. She
shook like leaf when she beheld it,
and clung to me conyulsively.
"This is witchcraft, Hector" she
said "The dress in that picture ia