Dodgeville chronicle. [volume] (Dodgeville, Wis.) 1862-current, 1867-07-12

~ Ha aJ ascertained this, he replaced the
candle on the floor, and leaned against the
wall thoughtfully, watching. the plue ian
of flame tnat wavered to and fro, threaten.
ing to detach itself from the WICK. AZ
ali events" he thought, " the place Is ven,
tilated." Suddenly Philip sprang forward
and extinguished the light. His existence
depended 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 insanely thrown into
the long boat. And here he had been purn-
ing away his very life.
nv the transient illumination OF one OF
the tapers, he looked at his watch. 1t had
stopped at eleven-but at eleven That day,
or the preceding 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? Alas
it was no longer possible for him to meas
IRE those hours which crawl like snails by
the the wretched, and fly like swallows over
the happy. bar .f1 ~ ~"
He picked up the candle and seated him
self on the stone steps. He was 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
cumstances, would surely alarm his friends;
they would instigate a search for him; but
who would think of searching for live
man in the cemetery of Montmartre The
Project of Police would set a hundred in
telligences at work to find him; the Seine
might be dragged, les maisera6les turned over
at the dead-hOuSe; a minute description of
him would; be in every detectives pocket;
and helm M. Dorine's family tomb i.
E Yet, on the other hand, it was here he
was last seen from this point keen de-
tective would naturally work up the case.
Then might not the undertaken return for
the candlestick, probably not left by de-
sign? Cor, again, might not NJ Dorine
send fresh wreaths of flowers, to take the
place of those which now diffused a pun
gent, aromatic odor throughout the cham
Der? Ahs what unlikely chances! But
if one of these things did not happen
speedily, it had better never happen
How long, could he keep life in himself?
With unaccelerated pulse, he quietly cut
the hal, burned candle into feur equal parts.
i, ITO night" he ,meditated, q will eat the
first Of these pieces to morrow, the seer
ond tomorrow evening, the third the
next day the fourth and then-then I'll
wait -. 1871 srasa a os
He had taken no breakfast that morning,
unless a cup of coffee can be called a break
fast. He had never been very hungry be-
FORE 60 He was raVenously hungry now
but he postponed the meal as long as prac-
ticable. 1t must have been near midnight,
according to his calculation, when he de-
termined to try the first of his four singu-
lar repasts. The bit of white wax was
tasteless but it served his purpose .,.,.
His appetite for the time appeased, he
found a new discomfort. The humidity of
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, came
over him occasionally. It took all his will
to fight it off. 70 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, feeling his way along
the wall to avoid the sepulchres. Voices
that had long been silent spoke words that
had long forgotten faces he had knownin
childhood grew palpable against the dark.
His whole life in detail was unrolled before
him like a panorama; the changes of
year, with its burden Of love and death, its
sweets and its bitternesses, were epitomized
in single second. The desire to sleep had
left him I; but the keen hunger came again.
1T must be near morning now" he
unused "perhaps the sun is just gliding
the pinnacles ana comes of the city; or,
may be, dull, drilling rain is beating on
Paris-sobbing On these mounds above me.
Paris it seems like dream. Did l ever
walk in It's gay streets in the golden air
o, the delight, and pain, and passion of
hot ifotU
Philip became conscious that the gloom,
the silence, and the cold were gradually
conquering him. The feverish activity Of
his brain brought on reaction. He grew
lethargic 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 devoured it mechanically.
This revived him. How strange" he
thought, g that l am not thirsty. 1sit pos
sible that the dampness of the walls, which
1 must inhale at every breath, has sup!
piled the need of water? Not a drop has
passed my lips for two days. and still ex-
perience no thirst. That drowsiness,
thank Heaven, has gone I think was
never wide awake till this hour. 1t would
be an anodyne like poison that could
weigh down my eyelids. No doubt the
dread of sleep has something to do with
this" hyz0'fe 5at y '5sa t..i4 80
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 upon the stone coffin that held
Julie, and make no further struggle for his
life '@'a +.
Only one piece of candle remained He
had eaten the third portion, not to satisfy
hunger but from a precautionary motive.
He had taken itas a man takes some disa-
greeable drug upon the result of which
hangs safety. The time was rapidly ap-
preaching when even this poor, substitute
for nourishment would be exhausted. He
delayed that moment. He gave himself a
long fast this time. The, half inch of can
die which he held in his hand was sacred
thing to him. 1t was his last defence against
DEATH II gItIs4s2 oT9W 2-9GtO vGar;f 81,
At length, with such sinking at heart
as he had not known before, he raised it to
This HIPS. Then he paused, then he hurled
the fragment across the tomb then the
oaken door-w flung open, and Philip,
with dazzled eyes saw nj. Dor mes form
sharply defined against the blue sky!a faed
iiaWhen, they led him out, half blinded.
into the broad daylight, M. Dorine noticed
that Philips hair, which a short time since
was as black as crows wing, had actually
turned gray in places. The mans eyes, too,
had faded the darkness had spoiled their
lustre, g.. Is. ~ A.. sFs
"And how long was he confined in the
tomb Pr asked, as Mr.. H concluded
the story. 3df ao,lom stu ..f
"Just one hour and taoenty minutes - re-
n1ied Mr. H smiling Handy stt44