Delaware gazette. [volume] (Delaware, Ohio) 1855-1886, 1870-08-19
DELAWARE OHIO FRIDAY AUGUST 10. 1870.

/ and refuse to see me ; now l can neve
r go back.
: In such stresses of extreme panic anC
t anguish an adult is simply a child, witt
the same overweight of emotions anC
= the same imperfections of reason. Du
ring the moments when she was certain
that Leighton would not forgive her
Alice made wild clutches at the hope
that Duvernois might. There were
glimpses Of the earlier days of her mar
| rage; cheering Phantoms of the days
. when she believed that she loved and
that she was beloved-phantoms which
swore by altars and bridal wells to secure
her pardon.
She imagined Duvernois overtaking
her with the words. Alice, forgive
your madness; do you also forgive the
coldness which drove you to it p
| She imagined herself springing to
him, reaching out her hands for recon
ciliation. putting up her mouth for a
kiss, and sobbing, "Ah, were you not
always SO
| Then of sudden she scorned this
fancy, trampled it under her weary, ach-
| ing feet, and abhorred herself for being
/ faithless to Leighton
At last she reached a sandy, lonely
coast-road, mile from the village, with
a leaden, pulseless, corpselike sea on
the left. and on the right long stretch
| of black, funereal marshes. Seating her
self on ruinous little bridge of unpaint-
! ed and wormeaten timbers, she looked
down into narrow, sluggish rivulet. of
/ the color Of ink, which oozed noise
lessly from the morass into the
| ocean. Her strength was gone; for the
/ l.
| unless she fed from earth-hed into the
unknown.
This thought had indeed followed her
from the house at first 1t had been
vague, almost unnoticed, like the whis-
per, of some one far behind then it had
| become clearer, as if the persuading
| fiend went faster than she through the
darkness, and were ovenaking her
Now it was urgent, and would not be
hushed, and demanded consideration.
"f you should die, it muttered,
then you will escape moreover, those
who now abhor you and scorn you, will
pity you and pity for the dead is almost
respect, almost love.
''Oh, how can ruined woman de-
fend herself but by dying ?" She wept
as she gazed with a shudder into the
black rivulet.
Then she thought that the water seem
ed foul that her body would become
tangled in the Shiny reeds and floating
things that when they found her she
would be horrible to look upon. But
even in this there was penance, a merit
ing of forgiveness, a claim for pity ID
Slowly, inch by inch, like one who
proposes a step which cannot be retrac-
ed, she crept under the railing of the
bridge, seated herself on the edge of the
shaky planking and continued to gaze
into the inky waters.
A quarter of an hour later, when the
clergyman of NorthPort passed by that
spot returning from visit to a dying
saint of his flock, no one was there.
We must revert to the two husbands
Duvernois had long wondered what
could keep his wife in a sequestered
hamlet, and Immediately on her refusal
to join him in summer tour he had re-
solved to look into her manner of life.
At the village hotel he had learned
that lady named Duvernois had ar
rived in the place during the previous
summer, and that she had been publicly
married to a Doctor Leighton. He did
not divulge his name-he did not so
much as divulge his emotion; he listen
ed to this story calmly, his eyes fixed on
vacancy.
At the door of the clearinghouse he
asked for Mrs. Duvernois, and then cor
rected himself, saying, Il mean Mrs.
Leighton"
He must have had singular emotions
at the moment, yet the servant girl no.
ticed nothing singular in his demeanor |
Mrs. Leighton could not be found
None of the family had seen her enter
or 90 out it was not known that she |
had been in the house for an hour
"But there comes Doctor Leighton" " |
remarked the girl as the visitor turned |
to leave.
Even in this frightful conjuncture the
characteristic GOODNESS. of Duvernois did |
not forsake him after a moments hesi- !
tation and a quick glance at his rival, |
he said, Il do not know him; / will call |
again.
On the gravelled walk which led from
the yard gate to the doorstep the two
men met and passed without a word
the face of the one as inexpensive of
the strangeness and horror of the en-
counter as the mind of the other was un-
conscious of them.
Leighton Immediately missed Alice
In a quarter of an hour he became anx-
ious in an hour he was in furious
search of her.
Somewhat later. when Duvernois !
came once more TO the house. accom- |
panied by a fashionably dressed youth, /
who, as it subsequently appeared, was !
his younger brother, he found the faIni- |
ly and the neighborhood in wild alarm |
over the disappearance of Mrs. Leigh |
ton The two at once returned to the |
-,
ed in the general chase.
1t was ten o'clock at night and the |
moon was shining with vaporous, |
spectral light when the maddest of I
chances brought the two husbands to-
gether over a body which the tide, with |
its multitudinous cold fingers, had gent |
ly laid upon the beach.
Leighton leaped from his horse, lifted |
the corpse with loud cry, and covered /
the white wet face with kisses.
"Oh, what could have led herto this p |
groaned the physician, already too sure !
that life had departed.
Insanity" was the monotoned re-
sponse of the statue on horseback.
The funeral took place two days later:
the coffin plate bore the inscription. |
''Alice Leighton, aged 23.' Duvernois |
read it but said not word.
"If you don't claim her as your wife.
whispered the brother, you may find it |
difficult to marry again.
do you think l shall want to marry |
again p responded the widower, with an
icy stare.
He was aware that he had lost a
shame and a torment, and not aware
that she might have been an honor and /
a Joy, if only he had been able to love.
LETTER TO THE YOUNG FOLKS,
From Berlin, Prussia.