Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1869-06-30
Seletie0 MistetIanD.
THE BRIDES TOMB.
An Awful Presentiment.

fiction. Science which has opened 81
many doors, which has solved riddles hard
er than the Sphynx ever propounded TO tn,
Thebans, looks with silence upon certain
kind OF phenomenon which has puzzled
wiser heads than mine, and which Webster
classes under the nebulous word superna
tural
Quite as lucid is the definition of thos,
who deny the agencyo other than physica
or natural causes in producing this class O.
events. Imagination, coincidence, optical
illusions, are the wet blankets which these
superbly practical people shower upon the
heads of all who may be inclined to exclain
with the poet, "There are more things il
heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dream
of in your philosophy" That the writer
was not extinguished years ago by one OF
more of those wet blankets may be accept
ed as proof that they are not so potent fo,
the purpose as many good psJple imagi C
them to be. l repeat, truth is stranger
fiction, which repetition means that am
not exercising my imagination. / beg tc
state that [ am too profoundly ignorant
for any such mental exercise. I wrote
conscious of but one reason. 'Tis the 29th
of March, the anniversary of an ever-mem-
orable night Like Coleridge's ''Ancient
Mariner" my heart is filled with woeful
agony, and I am constrained to repeat the
tale.
Years ago, I was invited to spend the
month OF March with a family with whom
/ enjoyed the most intimate relations. This
family consisted of three persons-Mr. and
Mrs. Linden and their daughter Marie, a
lovely girl CT nineteen.
Marie was to be married on the 29th o
the month, and it was the desire of both
mother and daughter that I should spend
Il. II. IL
vious to the event. It has been SO often
asserted that there can be no real love be-
tween women, that the saving has come to
be accepted as truth. [ have no heart to-
night to make any attempt at refuting this
abused error; but that it is an error Ii
love for Mary Linden would be convince :
proof in my own heart, though had nev
loved another woman.
A popular writer has said that s'to have
q face that can look beautiful for those who
love it, on whom it looks with love- is
enough for ordinary women" Such face
had Marie Linden; yet, dearly as I loved
her, [ doubt if can convey any clear i'm
preston of it to the render Hazel ewes
auburn hair, and bright comp exion, tell
nothing-ib was not in form or color that
the beauty lay. Perhaps it was because
the face was so sweet and true, or perhaps
it was In the eyes, which were serene TO
the very depths-an inward serenity, which
made it impossible to associate ANYTHING
akin to sorrow with their possessor-I
know not and must proceed with my story
Mr.. Iinden's house was situated on a
crest of rising ground, about mile distant
from an old seaport town. It commanded
variety of scenery, which must have sat
isfied the most difficult taste. The house
faced the north, fronting the broad bay,
IL, - IL ID
the bay and the house a broad expanse OF
level ground extended for miles along the
coast On the southern side were richly
wooded slopes, with stretches of meadow
between where, in the season. the ripened
grain waved like a billowv sea, The east
side commanded view of the town: here
distance lent its usual enchantment to the
picture. Midway between the town and
Mr.. Linden's house, stood the gray church
which Mr. Linden, with his wife and daugh-
ter, always attended, and where two or
three generations of Mrs. Linden's family
were buried The white columns which
marked the graves of Mrs. Linden's par
ents, and one daughter, who had died
young, were on a clear day, who had visi-
BILE from the house.
The month passed rapidly, as the months
always do when peopleare absorbed. Marie
was to marry the man other own choosing,
and man that her parents would have
chosen for, could their choice have COM
pretended the world. The love of Marie
Linden and George Percival was fiat con-
tradiction to the old saying, that ''the
course of true love never runs smooth. -
During two years engagement, noshadow
had ever darkened their paradise-it had
been Q clear sky, bright sunshine, from
first TO last.
The 29th arrived, and thefrst par of the
programme, which had long been arranged
was carried out. The ceremony took place
at four o'clock in the afternoon, only few
intimate friends being present; but there
was to be a bridal party III the evening
and on the following day the bride anC
groom were to start on their bridal tour
Nine o'clock soon came, when the rooms
were filed with the beauty and aristocracy
of both town and country. Never was there
d more beautiful bride than Marie Percival
Never was there happier groom than he
husband. Never was there gayer com
pany than was assembled that night unde
Mr.. Linden's roof, Yet most of the guest
have probably retained only such recoIleC
ton of the evening as an unusually pleas
ant party might leave upon the mind.
But for me, it is branded on my memor
with a strength which years have had n
of the night, the blue sky without cloud
the stars, the full moon, which lit up th
old gray church, and the two white columns
Within there was the bewildering light, th
perfume of the flowers, the music of th
waltz, and the rapid whirl of the waltzer
as they foated past the open windov
where stood gazing attentively upon tn
two plctuTes-one without and The othE
within. 1t was there that Marie joined m
chfding me, in her pretty girlish way, ft
not joining in the waltz. [ told her that
had been better entertained; then, putin
the face curtains further back, drew h,
close to the window, and we stood ther
hand clasped " hand, for at least five mil
utes, she gazing cut upon the beautifl
night, talking Of George and of her e.
pected trip, with sometimes loving wo1
for myself; l. gazing upon her, thinkiI
how well her bridal robe became her, wht
7 saw the color slowly fading from her swe
face. I thought it was the moonlight, al
was going to draw the curtains, when 81
stopped me. Pointing to the monumeh
in the churchyard, which We're as vlslb
as at midday 'How many are there?' 81
said,
serwo, dear" / answered. ''You kno
there never was more.
81 count three" she said.
L TUNED my eyes upon the monument
almost expecting to see a third; but to Il
there were only two. Yet [ felt the han
winch was clasped in mine grow cold al
Eiigid' While her for face had become lii
ehe marble upon which her eyes were
i4Cehtly hXed. / stroye to draw her fro