The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1868-11-17

slipped, l am sure; ana cOuld 1eel
convusive shudder shake her whole
body, even as she modestly disengaged
herself from my grasp.
''What can l do for you?' I said
"Will you not take my arm, back to the
hotel You seem indisposed." l."
That ring!' she murmured, in 6
fainting sort of voice, which made me
expect to see her stagger again-"whert
did yol get that ring Z"
"Why?" | asked, in astonishment.
"Because-it is mine" she said, firmly
Il looked at the young woman, crit
ically, to see if any sign of insanity
glared in the large, well-opened golden
brown eyes. Her calm, self-possessed
assurance staggered me.
Il ought TO apologize for my abrupt
manner Of announcing the fact" she
said, quietly. Il mean that the dia-
mond you wear was mine, and the cir
cumstances connected with it are so pain
ful, that you will pardon my rudeness -
| was overcome. Do not think that /
intended to claim it. l know that il
must be fairly yours now"
/ felt somewhat reassured. Interest
ed as I was in the young lady, I was not
prepared to lay my fortune at her feet,
or, rather III her hand.
Il wish--I should like" | said, with
some hesitation, "to hear something OF
the history of this ring, which will from
this hour possess new interest to me. y
She gave me most bewitching glance
Of mingled shyness and sadness, and ]
thought had never seen such eyes be-
fore. Indeed, the image of Matilda
Jane began to assume the wan tints OF
a faded daguerreotype,while this glowing
radiant beauty painted herself, in tints
glorious as Titan on my heart. All,
what eyes! \ line of Mrs. Browning
seemed to describe them:
Eyes like antique Jewels, set in statue-stone.'
AS the hair had a metallic lustre, so the
eyes had a gem-lille sparkle-a cold fire,
if one may call it so, such as seems pris-
oncd in precious stone.
"Will you answer me one question
first p she asked.
"Certainly-any number"
"Did you purchase the ring yourself?''
No. l inherited it from my father
"And he"
Il don't rightly know where lie got
it," / said, ''but | think he had it about
six years"
She reflected moment, and then said /:
II think we had better walk slowly
back to the depot, and l can tell you a
little as we go.''
So we turned and walked over. the
crisp, snowy road. 1t did not strike
me, then, as at all strange that the lady
should walk with and eohfide in an utter
stranger 1t seemed the most natural
thing in the world.
1--WE lived on the Western frontier y
she said. "My father was poor man
always poor, no matter how prosper.
Gus his business; you know what keeps
some men poor. But he had a noble
nature He was trader with the In
dams, and took long and perilous journ-
eys through swamp and wood, and wild
wastes, sometimes losing his way, and
suffering from cold and hunger. One
chilly night in October he found him.
self in wild strip of forest, where he
did not precisely understand the land
marks but he prepared to camp out for
the night, and make himself as comfort
able as possible under the circumstances.
He had matches with him, and flask OF
brandy, and various eatablcs; so he
kindled fire at once, and prepared his
table in the Wilderness, humming q song,
meanwhile. He was startled by hear
ing a feeble call near him. AT first he
feared it was some wild beast, but as he
listened, he found that it came from
come suffering, exhausted human being.
He lighted branch of pine-wood and
began his search. The cry came nc
more to guide him, but he found his OBJ
iect at last. He found, extended on a
heap of autumn leaves, the body Of g
young man. A game bag lay near. him
and gun. He looked as if he was
dead
"My father did not wait a moment
He carried him to the fire. He chafed
his limbs and put brandy between his
lips. The heat and spirits revived him
He proved to be a young Englishman
son ola noblemm, who had been out on
a hunting expedition. He had in some
way become separated from his compan.
ions, and lost his way. He had been
wandering for days in the pathless woods
hungry, faint, and at last, parched by
fever and racked with pain, he had laid
himself down to die. He said how hor-
rible it had been to give up hope, to
wait till death came, slowly but surely,
to him; for life was full of happiness to
him; fortune and sweet wife awaited
him in his home But he was still too
weak to walk My father carried him at
times, fed him like child, and, even
when it seemed that he must leave him
or perish with him, utterly refused to
leave him to die alone.
"The young mans gratitude was with
out bounds; and when at last Other
help came to them, and the stranger
reached his splendid home, he sent that
solitaire ring-m old ancestral gem, he
said-to my father, as memento OF
those fearful days"
The young girl sighed in pensivc
thought. A strange melancholy lool;
passed like cloud over her beautiful
face. My interest was intense in the
story and the teller. Still l said:
''Do not go on, if it is too painful fol
you. ] do not wish, for mere idle cur.
iosity, to give you pain"
She had the most resolute mouth ]
ever saw.
Yes, l will go on. / do not know
why should have any feeling at al
about this part of the story. Do moi
think that any emotion ] may show is
for tenderness to the subject of it.
only feel humiliated that but / will &c
on, and let you Judge for youself. Ny
father left the ring in my charge on his
last journey. He never came back. a
sudden congestige chill proved fatal tc
him, and he was dead and buried week:
| in the distant wilds before | over hearl