The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1869-06-08
THE VICTIM OF A LIE.

Alone with her dead! This was the
first time, since the sudden stroke which
had made her widow, and her children
fatherless that Madeline Ormsby had
found opportunity for moments silent
communion in the death chamber.
Leave me alone WHILE" she said, in
that tone so fraught with command and
quiet dignity, that it never failed of sub
DUNG. The face, almost as pallid as
that of the corpse she looked upon, was
illumined with strange light "If the
soul which inhabits this mortal frame
hovers for while around its tenement
of clay, would fain have it draw still
nearer, and listen to my confession" she
murmured, in low, distinct tones.
"Willian Ormsby, have never loved
you; but, in spite of the terrible lack of
this precious food-which is to woman
life and glory-I have been true as steel
to your manhood and to your interests.
Ten years we have have walked together,
and, to me, that time has been an eterni
ty-every hour of which have endured
the intensest martyrdom You never
have realized-never have noticed the
unrest which every year turned dimples
to wrinkles, and brown to white. Noac,
soul can speak to soul, for have never
felt that mine was grossly hampered with
the body it was compelled to inhabit.-
William Ormsby, cannot, and will not,
wait fer that great, uncertain by-and by
which is preached to us by babbling
priest and superstitious demagogue.-
Your soul Is as capable Of the truth now
as it ever will be, and this l must know:
Who poisoned the heart of Frederick
Longworth against me? Ay! death
could not claim his prey until some hint
of the dreadful wickedness had been re-
vealed. And now l must know all
You have deprived me Of life-for, is not
life loce?-and is not love liberty? Ev-
cry hope you have blasted And still,
for ten long years, l have been in igno
rance of all and only the thought pre-
sented as the Angel Of Death drew near.
Ay! he brought the plot, and from your
soul / demand the details!' p
The passionate voice ceased, and the
eyes so dark-so luminously clear-so
alive with determination-and the soul,
which she had rightfully described as I'M
fettered by its tenement-looked away
from the face of the dead, into the dim.
shadowy corners of the lofty frescoed
apartment.
II claim, only my own, and that is
knowledge" she continued. 81 have no
feeling of resentment against this poor,
inanimate clay-harbor no spirit of un-
kindness. All 1 desire is the truth, and
that. is my right! Who poisoned the
heart Of my betrothed against me"
AS she uttered the last words, a little
click of the ormolu clock on the marbel
mantel attracted the widows attention.
1t was strange noise.
The pendulum had been stopped,in Or
der that perfect silence might reign in
the presence Of the King of Terrors.-
Click it went again, this time more
strangely distinct; then, suddenly, a
grand crash, and the clock was a mass
of ruins!
"Stranger' murmured Madeline, as
calmly as many another would have spo-
ken under ordinary circumstances.
"But what is this ?" as roll of white
paper fell at her feet.
She clutched it eagerly; ran her eyes
swiftly over the familiar chirography,
and then, as the loud noise in the cham
ber of death had attracted the notice Of
the household, and steps were heard ap-
preaching, she slipped the newly. found
prize into her bosom, saying, as she did
so:
Sat last! oh, most human of souls,
thou hast spoken. Tardy justice to be
sure! Did not know that purity, and
faith, and everlasting love have their re-
ward? Farewell, companion of my
hours of misery! May each particular