Middletown transcript., 1870-11-12

| SiS' t)hO ulu uOt huUW 10 WDOm tue let
ter was addressed, as she was unable tC
read writing; but noticed that the sea-
was black. Mr.. Percy used that kind oi
envelope always.
That was all she had to say, and the
Doctor told her she might go and leave
him with the dead.
Very pathetic was the deud face. A
mournful beauty yelled the chiseled fea-
lures; sad smile wreathed his exquisite
mouth The profile, turned slightly a.
side, gave the head listening look Mar
velous enough, doubtless, were the sounds
now ringing in those ears What was
the mystery upon which those eyes so
feared to look that they must must needs
put on the veil of death?
No answer-no stirring of those lips
no lifting of those heavy lids with death
for coin-weights
A tear fell upon the marble brow of
the dead; the Doctors hand fell caress-
lngly upon the damp locks.
=" Poor boy!" he murmured
But there came time when the sad
beauty of that face was hid away to await
the awful change already commenced;
when the sad smile seemed like sneer
wherewith the dead mock their own de-
cay, and Edgar Percy was forgotten by
all save one.
He had no clue as yet Percy had
been for two years resident of the place,
had been successful as an artist, but had
no relation that any one knew. 1t was
known that he came from the country,
but that was all. Who were his friends
no one could tell 1t seemed that he had
none save those he had made in town.
He was not in debt. He left behind him
sufficient to pay the expense of his funer-
al. Among his effects, orderly and com
mon-place, there was not sign of mys-
terry, nor scrap of writing, not even an
unfinished sketch to point a clue One
thing the Doctor felt sure Of Edgar
Percy, mentally or physically, was the
personation of his own mystery. His
death destroyed its power, put an end to
its threatenings swallowed it up in inter-
ma! oblivion. 1t might be guilt-it might
be misfortune-it might be fate What
ever it was it concerned the dead man
alone. 1t lay between him and the
world. God might pardon and overlook
1T If it were sin; but the world, lie knew,
never could.
But was it sin? The world, we know.
forgives that easily enough when it is
by success and beyond the reach
OF law. If it was something the world
could not forgive, what could it have
been?
1t must not, however, be supposed that
Winter thought of nothing else than Ed
gar Percy's suicide. Man is seldom faith
Jul to memory; and having his hands
lpon the good things of this life, Winter
believed in enjoying them, and after puz
ling his brain on hundred possible So
utions to the riddle, he gave it up; so {
hat when Edgar Percy had been dead
or year, the thing was precisely where
was when first he read the suicides
etter ,
Another year dimmcd the memory of !
he tragedy; the third effaced it entirely {
rom his mind, to return only by fits and |
tarts. ,
1t was during the close of the third c
ear that DR.. Winter made the acquain- i
ance of young surgeon belonging to one
t the principal hospitals. Young Wm. t
,unning took great fancy to the mid v
le..aged' jolly practitioner, pcnchant p
eciprocated by the Doctor and when off v
uty the two were always together {
One day DIR. Winter, accompanied
)unning to the hospital, and went the t.
ounds with him. There we're MANY sad n
ghts there, means of pain and thin pal 9
d faces, on which death was plainly f,
Lamped "a
Dunning stopped at one of the pallets, r.
n which lay the slender form of man a
ct in his early youth, whose pale, regu- RI
II features and dusky eyes sent thrill
remembrance through DR. Winters
oul. Where had he seen that face and i,
hen? 4
Who is he?" was the question that D
'se to his lips. :
1t is hard to tell who he is" replied N
'unning. I" He was found wandering in o.
he street, wild with delirium. He had Il
cen robbed, it seemed, and turned out of
sick bed by some trcacherous fiend, W
oubtess hoping that he would perish in d
lie street. Poor creature His hour is OF
ear at hand !" a
"Is he conscious ?" al
"He has not been hitherto; but l think b,
will recover his reason before he dies. f.
h there is sanity in his eyes even now. in
peak to him Doctor" g,
MY good man." said Winter, "do you a,
70 me?' -;
doctor Winter" uttered feeble voice +
"You know me !" he cried with aston
hment. "Who are you?" c,
A feeble smile curved his thin lips. ST
"lfyou will sit down beside me l have s,
long story to tell you. Yet, no, it shall bi
1t be long" r;
The sick man stretched his hand for a in
rdial. 1t was given him, and again the or
iskey eyes were turned upon Winters as
ce, and the low voice began: pl
Give years ago l met you first. For pl
10 years you were my friend. I died,