The Evansville journal. [volume] (Evansville, Ind.) 1866-1870, 1868-08-26
MEG. HARTLEYaS CURE.
BY FLORENCE MARRYAT.-

she was not his wife; and that she
would sooner die than return 70 MS
Marraret interposed the calm
voice of John Hartley, my wlfe--ah,
moi / meant my dearest, listen to
me. and be brave; resistance Is. utter
~ useless. IL is we who, though in
noeently. have been in the wrong; it
IS we whose hands are now fettered;;
and Heaven, who has permitted your
husband to return alive, intends that
you shall do your duty towards him as
You have done it to me. - s.za
You don't love me, John" she
answered, mournfully; you can't
love me as / love you, or you would
die before you would give me up SO
easily" 49, ..x-s -
" Easily?" he repeated, bitterly.
If Ills task be easy, Meg. God have
mercy on those who endure harder
ones" E#
"I'll have no more of this" said
Robert Nelson, rudely; I'm sick Of
such bosh. Put down that brat and
follow me. IN not wait another sec-i
ond" 80, - -esa
My childl must part with my
chilaP screamed the unhappy woman,
as she pressed the infant closer to her
breast. 20, John, can he take away
my baby2 can he force me to leave
that, too, behind2" .1etisI b6s
''And am | to have nothing, Marga-
ret?" replied John Hartley, ia a voice
of despair; am / to lose wife and
child at one blow2 all the desire of
my eyes at a stroke? Won't you leave
Daisy behind you, asa little com fort
thai may prevent my heart from break
imp"
She rushed back to him and put the.
baby IN his arms. Z. = .a..i. III
M ne, she whispered, with fever
ishly excited eyes, and gasping tone,
mine and yours-ours, j ohn-l give
her to you; love her for wretched
mOrher's sake. uEA
you shouldn't have taken her,
ANYWAY" growled Robert Nelson;
"I'll have no other mans brat kick
ing about my premises; but it's as
well. perhaps, to make a virtue of a
necessity. Now, are you ready Pc 4
Then she turned, and fell at that
hard mans feet, ard embraced his
knees with her hands, as she poured
forth her soul in an entreaty that he
would give her up. he, o'1 30 20 .,.,..~
Bobert have pity on neon us
/ shall never live with John Hartley
again; | shall leave this dear home,
where | have been SO happy; but don't
ask me to return and be your wife.
To remain here would not be right,
but to return to you seems worse. % .,
Robert, have pity--have mercy on us
bothl Listen to my baby wailing for
me, and don't separate me utterly from
all that is so dearl" e $500 bslaa.
But she might as we'll have laid her
head against a stone wall, and Inn
plored it TO respond to her passionate
entreaty. tel H8qo XII ''A
The only answer which she OBJ,
tanned from Robert Nelson was a
harsh laugh at her distress, as with a
grasp OF iron on her arm he dragged
her roughly toward the open door,
and she felt that her fate was decided
and hope, in this world, over for her.
Husband, God bless you for all
the love you have showered upon mel
[ have been ungrateful, John, often
impatient, disconnected, and careless,
but L have loved you faithfully
THROUGH it all. o, don't forget me now
that | am gOingP EGHameT ,,aat..
ouch were her farewell sentences,
franticaily uttered, as, half dragged
and half supported, she was borne
through the dark passage towards the
outer door. e,s7 81 ~ {
shall never forget you, darling;
and-we shall meet again--look up,
MIG, and think of thatl"r
One backward glance at him whom
she had considered as her husband,
as he uttered these last fond words;
and Margaret, that cruel grip still
fixed upon her arm, was hurried out
OF the house into the driving, pitiless
rain H*ii oi aslgga "a
Bareheaded, and otherwise unpro-
tected from the Indictment weather, il
still never struck her as strange, re.
membering Robert Nelson's brutality
towards her la years gone by, that he
should choose to expose her to ethe
fury of the elements. The rain, il
anything, was coming down harder
than il had done befores in a few
minutes her dress was chngiug miser,
ably about her wet ankles, and hel
shoes we're soaked through; and ye
the soreness of her heart and the
great dread creeping over her of thu
man into whose power she had agaiI
been thrown, prevented her thought
dwelling upon anything but the tw,
dear ones she had left in the OLE
house behind her. and the hard grasl
upon her arm which seemed to pres
in TER flesh like heated iron.
EDWARDS he hurried her; never re
taxing that unnecessary torture o
restraint; never addressing a word t
her of comfort or affection; willis
she, walking at the utmost speed I
keep up with his stride, did not s
much as lift her eyes to the dark
dreaded face which she f, 1t ever AM
agqin to be regarding her "
She never inquired where he wa
taking her. They passed stand afte
srapd of hackney cabs. but Rober
Nelson did not offer to put her int
one of them, and she did not ventur
to suggest that he should. The
might have been walking to til
worlds end together for aught sh
knew or cared She could think bu
of two shings-her regret for the pas
and her fears for the future.
By and by, after they had traverse
what had seemed to Margaret mile
of dark and sloppy payements,. Robel
Nelson, without relaxing his hoI
upon her arm, turned suddenly
another direction, and she found bel
self inside a railway station. A bus.
ling station, where bells ,WeT
ringing, and passengers pushing, an
porters calling. and everything CAV
token that train was just about
start; and from which in .anotht
minute she found herself rushing int
the dark, unknown country, the so
companion of Robert Nelson in
first class carriage. She shrunk into
corner, and resigned herself I
thought. ano r.ta
Then it was in the cold and siler