The Wheeling daily intelligencer. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1865-1903, 1869-04-24
She turned to me with heart-rend

ing look.
day; and it is that which is killing me-"
She burst into passion OF tears when
she said this. I took her into my arms
as if she had been a frightened child,
and tried to comfort her.
my darling, this is madness" said.
"Yon know that no stranger can come
to you in the pleasaunce. The moat Is
ten feet wide and always full of water,
and the gates are kept locked day and
night by old Massou. The chatelaine
of medieval fortress need fear no In
truder in her antique garden"
My wife shook her head sadly.
81 see him every day" she said.
On this believed that my wife was
mad. 1 shrank from questioning her
more closely concerning her mystert-
Gus visitant. 1t would be i'll, L thought,
to. give form and substance to the
shadow that tormented her by too close
inquiry about Its look and manner, its
coming and going.
Itook care to assure myself that no
stranger to the household could by any
possibility penetrate to the pleasannce.
Having done this, 1 was fain to await
the coming of the physician.
He came at last. revealed to him
the conviction which was my misery.
I told him that believed my wife to be
mad. He saw her-spent an hour alone
with her, and then came to me. To my
unspeakAble relief he assured me OF
her sanity.
at is Just possible that she may be
affected by one delusion," he said /;
shut she is so reasonable upon all other
points, that can scarcely bring myself
to believe her the subject of a monoma-
MIA. L am rather inclined to think that
she really sees the person of whom she
speaks. She described him to me with
11T1T1 fn
OF scenes or individuals given by pa
tients afflicted with monomonia are al
WAYS more or less disjointed; but your
wife spoke to me as clearly and calmly
as am now speaking to you. Are you
sure there is no one who can approach
her in that garden where she walks ?''
~ am quite sure"
Ills there any kinsman of your stew
ard, or hanger-on of your household-a
young man with q fair womanish face,
very pale, and rendered remarkable by
a crimson scar, which looks like the
mark of blow?"
"My God !" cried, as the light broke
in upon me all at once. "And the dress
the strange old fashioned dress ?"
1.-THE man wears a hunting costume
of purple and orange" answered the
doctor.
1 then knew that Andre de Brissac
had kept his word, and that In the hour
when my life was brightest his shadow
had come between me and happiness.
showed my wife the picture in the
library, for would fain assure myself
that there was some error in my fancy
about my cousin. She shook like a
leaf when she beheld it, and cluug to
me convulsively.
"This is witchcraft, Hector" she said.
"The dress in that picture, Is the dress
of the man see in the pleasaunc e; but
the face ia not his. ~
Then she described to me the face OF
the stranger; and it was my Cousins
face line for line-Andre de Brissac,
whom she had never seen in the flesh.
Most wildly of all did she describe the
cruel mark upon his face, the trace of
fierce blow from an open hand.
After this l carried my wife away
from Puy Verdun. We wandered far
through the southern provinces, and
into the very heart of Switzerland. I
thought to distance the CHASTITY phan-
tom, and I fondIy hoped that change of
scene would bring peace to my wife,
1t was not so. Go whereWe would,
the ghost of Andre de Brissac followed
US. To my eyes that fatal shadow never
revealed itself. That would have been
too poor a vengeance. 1t was my poor
heart which Andre made the instru-
ment OF his revenge: The unholy pres.
ence destroyed her life. My constant
companionship could not shield her
from the horrible intruder. In vain
did watch her; in vain did strive to
comfort her.
"He will not let me be at peace" she
said; "a comes between us, Hector. He
is standing between US now. 1 can see
palmer than 1 see yours"
One fair moonlight night, when we
were together in a mountain village in
the Tyrol, my wife cast herself at my
feet, and told me she was the worst and
vilest of women.
"Ihave confessed all to my director"
she said; "from the first 1 have not hid
den my sin from Heaven. But 1 feel
that death is near me; and before die
would fain reveal my sin to you"
"What sin, my sweet one?"
"When first the stranger came to me
in the forest, his presence bewildered
and distressed me, and shrank from
him as from something strange and ter
rlble. He came again and again; by
and by found myself thinking OF him.
and watching for his coming, His Inn
age haunted me perpetually; 1 strOve
in vain TO shut his face out of my mind.
Then followed an interval in which
did not see him; and, to my shame and
anguish, 1 found that life seemed dreary
and desolate without him. After that
came the time in which he haunted the
pleasaunce; and-O, Hector, kill me II
you will, for deserve no mercy at
your hands!-I grew in those days to
count the hours that must elapse before
his coming, to take no pleasure save in
the sight OF that pale face with the red
brand upon it. He plucked all old ia
miliar joys out OF my heart, and left in
it but one weird unholy pleasure-the
delight OF his presence. For a year
have lived but to see him. And now
curse me, Hector; for this Is my sin.
Whether 1t comes of the baseness of
my own heart, or is the work OK witch
craft, 1 know not; but know that
have striven against this wickedness in
vain"
l took my wife to my breast, and for
gave her. In sooth, what had to for
give2 Was the fatality that overshad-
owed US any work of hers? On the next
night she died, with her hand in mine;
and at the very last she told me, Sob
bling and attrighted, that he was by her
side.