The Evansville journal. [volume] (Evansville, Ind.) 1866-1870, 1868-08-06

It's serenity, he watched the dead face
with gloomy eyes, till Mercy, having
done her part. stopped aud kissed the
cola lips tenderiy as she left him to
his sleep. Then, as if afraid to be
alone with the dead, he bid Ben put
the screen between the beds. and
bring him n book. Ills order was
obeyed, but he never turned his pages,
and lay with muffied head, trying to
shut out little Watts sobs, as the
wounded drummer boy mourned for
hurry.
aThar evening DR.. Fitz Hugh told
Mercy hat her suspicious were cor
rect, for the water avas poisoned.
How horrible. What shall we
do?" she cried, with 4 gesture full of
energetic indignation.
Leave him to remorse," replied
the doctor, sterply. I've thought
over the matter, and believe this to
be the only thing we can do. | fancy
the man won't live a week; his leg IS
In a bad way, and he is such a fiery
devil. he gives himself no chance.
Let him believe that he killed poor
Murrv. at least for a few days. He
thinks so now, and tries to rejoice;
but if he has human heart, he will
repent
But he may not. Should we not
tell fthis2 Can he not be punished2''
"Daw won't hang a dying man, aud
I'll not denounce him. Let rem0rse
punish him while he lives. and God
judge him when he dies. hurry par
doned him; can we do less?"
Day and night he saw the tranquil
face on the pillow opposite; day and
night he saw the pale hand out
stretched TO him; day and night be
heard the faintvoice murmuring kind
ly. regretfully: Iforgive him butt
wish he had spared me for Marys
sake
No new patient occupied the other
bed, and he lay alone in the recess
with his own gloomy thoughts.
1T will be all up with me In a few
days. won't it?' he asked, abruptly,
as Ben. made his toilet one morning
with unusual care, and such visible
pity In his rough face that Clay could
not but observe it.
II heard the doctor say you
wouldn't suffer much more. Is there
any one you'd like to see, or leave a
message for?p answered Ben, smooth
ing the long locks as gently as "a wo-
man.
There isn't a soul in the world
that cares whether | live or die. ex-
cept the man who wants my money"
said Clay, bitterly. as his dark lace
grew a shade paler at this confirma-
ton of his fear.
Can't you head him off some way,
and leave your money to some n
that's been kind to you? Here's the
doctor-or, better still, Miss Carroll.
Neither on 'em is rich, and both on
EN- has been good friends TO you, or
you'd a Jared a deal wus than you
have" said Ben; not without the
hope that IN saying a good word for
them, he might say one for himself,
also.
Clay lay thinking for a moment as
his face clouded over, and then
frightened again.
Miss Mercy wouldn't take it, nor
the doctor either: but I know who
will, and by Cd, III do IT," he ex-
claimed with sudden energy.
His eye happened to set on Ben as
he spoke, and feeling sure that he
was to be the heir, Ben retired to send
Miss Mercy, that the matter might be
settled before Clay's mood changed.
Miss Carol came. and began to cut
the buttons off Murry's coat while
she waited for Clay to speak.
What's that for?" he asked rest
lessly.
THE men want them, and Ben is
willing, for the coat is very old and
ragged, you see. hurry gave his good
one away to a sicker cOmrade, and
took this instead. 1t was just like
him-my poor boy!'
Id like to speak to you, If you
have a minute to spare" began Clay,
after a pause, during which he watch
ed her with a wistful, almost tender
expression, unseen by her.
= have time; what can / do for
you?" Very gentle was Mercy's voice,
very pitiful her glance, as she sat
down by him, for the change in his
manner, and the thought of his APP
preaching death, touched her heart.
Trying to resume his former gruff-
ness, and cold facial expression, Clay
said. as he picked ~nervously at the
blanket:
I've a little property that | put
into the care OF q friend, going North.
He's kept it safe; and now, as I'll
never want it myself. I'd like to leave
it to- He paused an instant, glanced
quickly at Mercy's face, and seeing
only womanly compassion there, adj
ded with an Irrepressible tremble in
his voice to little Mary"
" | wish | could tell you how glad
| am for thisl | thought you were
better than you seemed; / was sure
you had both heart and conscience.
and that you wonld repent before
you died.
Repent Of what?' he asked, with
a startled look.
Need / tell your and her eye
went from the empty bed to his face.
L" You mean that shot? But it was
only fair, after all; we killed each
other, and war is nothing but whole
sale murder, any way
He spoke easily, but his eyes were
full of trouble, and other words
seemed to trembIe on his lips.
Leaning nearer, Mercy whispered
in his ear:
Il mean the other murder, which
you would have committed when you
poisoned the cup of water he offered
you, his enemy"
Every vestige of color faded out O.
Clay's thin face, and his haggard eyes
seemed fascinated by some spectre OPP
posite, as he muttered slowly:
Flow do you know
Il saw you;" and she told him al
the truth.
A look of intense relief passed
over Clay's countenanee, and the re
morseful shadow lifted as he muir.
INJURED. brokenly-
! Thank God, I didn't kill him
Now. DIVING isn't so hard; now I car