Gallipolis journal. [volume] (Gallipolis, Ohio) 1837-1919, 1870-11-03

Please. sir he calculated breath
lessly, ARE YOU physician?
"tAye, my lad; what's wanting?'
"'Will you just step this way, sir
They've just taken woman's body ou
of the river. and father saws mavb;
there's spark OF life in it vet. Oh,
sir, make haste, please be added,
she's so pretty and SO girlish lookiug!'
"What was it that reminded me so
strangely at that instant of ny lovely
fellow passenger of the night before?
What made me remember, with thrill
of unde6ned apprehension, the strong
look of despair that was in her eyes
that one instant that the light PLAYED
upon her unconscious face? | can
scarcely answer that question even to
myself, yeu all of sudden The certain
ty flashed across my mind that it was
case of suicide.
There was quite a little crowd as
semhled on the snowy shores of the
turbid looking river, where blocks Of
steely ice were rocking, half-submerged
in the freezing current; but they made
way in silence for me, as l passed hur
ridly through their ranks There, in
the centre, stretched on a bier made of
. few rough boards, lay the dripping
and frozen corpse Of a young girl!'
We were holh sileat, in a sort of
hushed horror; my uncle's low, sol
emn voice and impressive description
seemed to bring up the very reality be-
fore US, He paused an instant, and
then resumed:
my children, such 4 sight as that
once seen, Is not easily forgotten. Al
though twenty years have elapsed, l
can see her now as plainly as saw
her then; the marble beauty of her
pallid face, the violet eyes, wide open,
and glazed with death; the magnif-
cent golden hair, whose long, wet
tresses streamed around her face; and
above all, the look of utter misery and
that stamped the beauti
ful features even in death.
81 stopped down mechanically, felt
the moveless pulse, and passed my hand
over the icy lips, bat, as had been
morally certain from the FIRST, it was
useless.
"'Shc had been dead for hours
said, turning to the little crowd who
were breathlessly awaiting my YER
diet
"'Poor, pretty thihg' said one of
the women who were bending over her;
and she's scarce more than sixteen, to
judge by her looks. To thiak she
gone so early-poor, pretty child!'
Nobody knew anything about her;
she was a total stranger in the village,
and even the close examination of her
5eanty effects and clothing failed to
produce any clue 10 her identity.
remained over enc day in the village,
to attend the coroner's inquest, and
saw her buried in the snow-coyered
church yard, amoag the gray, dreary
Did tomb-stones, ere resumed my
journey.
Several years passed by, and had
nearly forgotten The lovely corpse be-
side the turbid river, aud the strange,
romantic episode it had formed in my
ife, when one evening | received
Thornton Gray's card, bearing the
name of fashionable New York ho-
el, and the words, hurriedly scrubbed |
in pencil, 'Just from Paris.
Of course | hurried through my list
IF patients, and h4stened to the hotel
Is soon as practicable. for Gray had
been tne of my earliest and dearest
riends
"'Hallo, Mordaunt-the same sober
'aced old fellow as ever!'
"IIe met me with a cordial grasp Of the |
land and welcoming smile, yet some
low | fancied that he was changed
There was an eager, searching look !
bout his face, an impatient restless
Tess in his manner, that struck me as /
Unusual; but later in the evening he
Explained the secret of what had puz-
lied me at first
"'The truth is, Mordaunt, he said,
| am engaged in a search.
ga search echoed 'and for
whom? or what?'
"'For one in whom my li(e's whole
happiness is bound up, he answered
With sort Of passionate energy
Four years ago, Mordaunt, | was en-
ragged to the loyeliest creature Gods
un ever shone on, but--mad fool that
was!-I became foolishly jealous at
mothers attention to her--Celestine
ihe was not rich, in fact she was de-
,endent on the kindness of distant
elation; but oh, how lovely. how per-
ect she was! l can't think or speak
f her without being maddened at my
wn folly. Well, we parted; she silent
nd dismayed, | full of fierce, unreas-
ming anger, swearing, in my insane
Sratb, never to set eyes on her more
sailed for Europe the next morning
b, how well | remember that snowy
December day! But when returned,
epentant and sorrowing, ready to kiss
he very hem of her garment with con
rition, it was too late. The cousin
18th whom she was dwelling was dead,
is family scattered, no one knew
Yhither and all clue to CeIestine's
was irreyocabIy lost
low you know the object of my search.
Tntil l find my wronged, injured angel,
fe has not one hour of rest or peace .
,r mei'
"'And have you no key whatever to
lis mYsteryf' asked.
"'None, save her picture. which, {
ven in the storm of my first Temporal
Y madness, | could not bear to cast ,
-om me-
ale took a small velvet case from
is breast, and touched little clasp