Indiana American. [volume] (Brookville, Ind.) 1865-1872, 1867-08-23


the ceiling, bat unlightsd. IL contained
two sarcophagi; the first held tho remains
Of Madame Dorine, long since dead; the
other was new, aud bore on ono side tho
letters J. D., In monogram, inierwovon
with urs-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 to tho tomb. A slender
wax. candle, such as Il used In Catholic
churches, burnt nj the foot ofthe uncover
ed sarcophagu,, castinga dim glow over
the center Of the apartment, and deepen
ing tho shadows which seemed TO huddle
together 10 the corners. by this iiiekcr-
Ing light the coffin was placed In It's gran
Ito shell, the heavy slab laid over II rever'
emily, and the oaken door revoyed on It's
rusty hinges, shutting out uncertain rays
Of sunshine that had yentured to peep In
on the darkness.
Mr. Dorine, muilled In his cloak, threw
himself on tho back seat OF the carriage,
too abstractod In his grief TO observe that
he was tho only occupant Of the vehicle.
Tho rattle OF wheels had died out Of the
air when Philip opened his eyes, bewild-
cred, like n man abruptly rouscd from
slumber. llo raised himself on one arm,
and stared into tho surrounding black
noss. Where was he2 In second tho
truth dashed upon him. lie had been
left In tho tomb While kneeling on tho
father side Of tho stone box, perhaps he
had fniutcd apd In the last sslemu rites
his absence had besn pnnof'ced.
iIs first emotion was one Of natural
terror. Bu, this passed as quickly us II
cauc. Life hud ceased TO be very precious
10 him: aud ii II wero his fate to die at
jules side, was not that the fulhlmeni
OF tho desire which ho had expressed TO
himself hundred tunes that morning?
Was il not cowardly TO yield up without
struggle the life which he should guard
for her sake? Was II not bis duty TO the
living aud to the dead TO face the dllllenl
ties Of his position, and 10 overcome them,
" IL were In human power? The vague
fear OF the supernatural, that would effect
most men IN similar situation, found no
room in his heart. IIo was simply shut
in chamber from which II was necessary
that he should obtain release within
given periods That this chamber con.
tanned the bldy Of the woman he loved, SO
far from adding TO tho terror OF the case,
was a circumstance from which he drew
consolation. She was a beautiful white
statue now. Her soul was far hence; aud
If that pure spirit could return, would II
not be TO shield him With her lover II
was impossible that the place shonld not
cngeuder some thought Of the kind
Philip chanecd TO have in his pocket q
box Of wax papers which smokers use.
After several Intellectual attempts, he sue.
ceodel in igni,iug one against the wall,
and by It's momentary glare, perceived
that the candle had been left in the tomb
This would serve him Ia examining the
Il sienings Of the vault. IL he could force
3 Q inner door by means, and reach
the grntting. of which he had an indis.
tinet recollection. he might hope to make
himself heard. But the oaken door was
immovablc, as n solid rs the wall itself, in
To which IL fitted air tight. Even IL he
had had the requisite tools. there was no
fastenings 10 be removed; the hiuges were
set on tho outside.
Having ascortaincd this, he replaced the
candle on the floor aud leaned against
the wall thoughtiully, watching the blue
fan Of the fame that waved TO aud fro,
threatening to deiach itself from the wick
"At oil events" he thought. ethel place
is ventilated Suddenly Philip sprang
forward and extinguishcd the light. His
existence depended on that candle.
lie had read somewhere, in some ac-
count Of shipwreck, how the survivors had
lived for days upon few candles which
one Of the passengers had insanely thrown,
into the long boat. Aud here he had been
burning away his very life.
by the transient illumination of one Of
the tapcrs, ho looked ut his watch. Ii had
stopped at eleven--but at eleven that day,
or the preceding night. The funeral, he
know, 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. lie was san :
gune man, this Wentworth, but as he
weighed tho chance of escape, the pros
pect did not seem encouraging. OF course
he would be missed. Ills Disappearance
under the circumstances would surely
alarm HIS friends; they would institute q
search for him; but who would think of
searching for a live man 10 the cemetery
Of Moutmurtre? The Perfect Of Police
would set hundred Of intelligences at
work TO find him: the Seine might be
dragged. les nliseraJies turned over at the
dead house; minute description OF him
would in every detectives pocket; aud
he--in NJ Dorine's family tomb
Yet, on the other hand, II was here that
he was last seen; from this point, keen
detective would naturally work up the
cuse. Then might not the undertaken re.
turn for the candlestick, probably not left
by design? How long could he keep life
In himselfg
With unacccleratcd pulse, he quietly
cut the half-burned candle into four equal
parts. "To night" he meditated. 81 will
eut the FIRST OF these pieces; tomorrow,
the second; to.morrow evening, the third;
the next day, the fourth; and then-then
III waltz -
He bad taken no breakfast that morn.
ing, unless cup Of coffee can be called a
breakfast. He had mover been very hun.
cry before; he was ravenously hungry
now. But he postponed the meal as long
as practicable Ii must have been near
midnight according to his calculations,
usbo. a.. Iata..nt,aI a.. 49,. a.. O. - \ i.