Litchfield enquirer., 1871-11-02

Maurice" he said then, with langh. He Wonld confront you with an
 sOh turn those eyes away from me
 Though sweet, yet fearful are their rays.
 aain the desired position ?
 Please, I don't like you to talk So to me, I said.
 Don't? Well, I will not. This is St. Agnes's story:
 1.-THE STORY OF SAINT AGNES. ss
 You have heard of Pia of Sienna ? Their fates were the same-at least were meant to be. These old, plegnlatic Dutch Husbands, once fairly kindle them at the tnrch, will burn as furiously, with as many sparks and snaps and as hot flame as the fercest Italian who ever confded his secrets to his dagger. Agnes was sold by her father to a nobler husband trade Of the Trefetheness-and for time went through the routine of her life in that rich Dutch city discreetly But at last she fell te dreaming, and remenhered her youth and her cousin Trefetheness and at that time 1t chanced that her cousin Trefethe- ness met her again. It IS the old story. He had been at the wars and was wound ed; and his wound gave him fresh trouble: and who should there be but Agnes to tend him, Agnes to sing to him, Agnes to read to him, Agnes to walk with him as he grew better, Agnes to dance with him when he grew we'll !? She danced with her cousin Trefetheness, never needing the Count her husband 8 angry eyes, till the dance heated her beauty, and she blazed out Tn her gorgeous loveliness the gem among all those noble ladies. The Count saw tfFiS aV6 th1..H .1oo I fetheness saw it. and thrilled with passion. and bent lower above her, and clasped her closer and more tenderly Others saw it, and thrilled with fear. Here was touch she had never known here was glance that Waa new to her, l-~--e-...aa a HGa- laid at her feet. here was warmth and io5. and Infinite protection of love. Here had she .a...-a ueIlciousness of youth, which she deemed lost and red mantled her cheek, and softer glows suffused her eyes, and she swam Ill curves of more languid grace, dreaming of all this love might have been, only half=concious of what it was. The next day, as Trefetheness lay before her Ill the sunny summer garden, he took her hand and asked the use of the bauble on it, and lightly bade her throw it away and Agnes looking in his eyes took it from her finger and threw away her wedding ring. Many recurring day the lovers sat Ill the summer bower, and one evening they heard step crunch down the gravel walk. Agnes had just made some playful charge to Trefetheness, and he had replied, On my honor, when the Count paused before them.
 {" Your honor is like your sword, Sir, said the Count, drawing the latter swiftly from it's sheath, and breathing on it as it flashed in the moonlight 'sullied 2 and returning 1t he drew his own But sec- ond thought sUrtruh him. for he yelled it's point and said, No; the contest that woula absolve you would not right me. I will have no blood, or I will have your hearts s. bloodr
 "'1ake my hearts blood, moaned Ire fetheness; and Agnes, for moment, saw his forehead shining wet in the white beam.
 < See, I take it ? said the Count, and raising his wife, he flung her now sense less form over his arm and took her away
 "Ehefe are districts in the Low Coun- tries, as you are aware, but hardly re- claimed from the sea. At that time they were not entirely devoted to cultivation; and while on the more inland portions val nable grain was produced, on many of the marshes coarse, rank, unmOwn grass grew and rotted and netted the new land closer with it's roots and particles. I'm perfect ditches here and there trayersed these regions, frequently serving only as putrid deposits; and after rain, or in hot weather, their fetid effiuvia was not to be endured by any living creature One such place the Count owned. There was a tower built somewhere in the midst of it, for some forgotten purpose, and to this tower the Count took his dishonored wife. All around 1t lay the long flat land, swath- Far away dim line told of the sea; far away sparkle on unseen spires and domes told of the city, Solitude was unbroken; no birds wing glanced that way; no wild creature made its haunt in the reek- ing hollows; and on every side-at morn to meet the sun, at noon still called forth by his all-searching, all-summoning ray, at noxious nightfall, as if to follow after him-rose the subtle, poisonous vapors; and she had no glass mask. In the hot midsummer these exhalations began their work for which they had long lain in wait. and when the autumn came, her blanched cheeks, her swollen joints and aching limbs told that it was nearly done. One day then, when the autumn chills and dread ful dews only asserted their spell of damp ness and disease more acutely, she crept down into the Counts room, warmed a moment by the great blaze there that tum- bled up the chimney, and said:
 Because l have sinned must you be punished?'
 ''And the Count replied Our futures we woye inextricably'
 .'I implore you, she said, If you have any mercy, not to stain my soul with mur- der. will stay here till I Idie-none shall enter to me, neither will go out to any, so but you depart.
 But the Count laughed and remained. His frame was too stout, his life too well inured to be so lightly touched; he had nothing of the dainty tissue of skin and vein to be blasted by blistering sun or curding fog And so through the au- tumn, when all the white mists crawled cruelty round them, and lay deathly as cerements and loathly as testers, and seemed in her distorted eyes to be the substance of dissolved pain; so through the winter, that had racked her with sharp bangs of bone and muscle; so through the spring, when all the wide fields grew green anew, and steeped themselves in their nau- seous decay, and slime thickened on the pools, and the mephitic air again breathed up and excluded Gods atmosphere from her world, and concocted more intimate agony for another winter to cement. Then the Count stepped into boat at the towers base, and stretched the sail, and sped mp the broad ditch, now full as riv- CT with the spring rains. Hewent straight to the dark old city, and the first person that he met was Trefetheness, still detain- ed on the spot, as it were by some finger ing enchantment, woeful and watchful, yet as gallant nt-looking, as comedy and fine as ever, for these were Natures gifts to him, and sorrow and regret alone could not de- stroy them.
 "tOnce you dipped in the arts ? asked the Count, abruptly. Once you drew pie tures of your mistress, and adjusted the sea shells pink to the cheek, and melted the oval fullness into the dimpled chin, anl clustered the curl on the temple to toleave bare the ear, as your Trefetheness women are proud of doing; once you swept win swift pencilings, in your hour of play,