The Fremont weekly journal. [volume] (Fremont, Sandusky County, Ohio) 1867-1877, 1871-06-30

blow could bring US. I followed
them, meaning to stab him in the
dark; but when I saw him leaning
where a safer stroke-would. destroy
him, I gave it and we are safe"
"Safe, I echoed. Do you know
you left my dagger behind you;
Keen found it, he suspects me, for L
was near; and st. John has told him
something Of the cause 1 have to
wish you free"
She sprang up, and seemed about
to rush away to proclaim her guilt,
but 1 restrained her desperate pur-
poses, saying sternly-
aControl yourself and be cautious.
may be mistaken; but if either must
suffer, let it be me, I can bear it best,
even if it comes to the worst, for my
life is worthless now"
"And l have made it so? Oh, Paul,
can you never forgive me and forget
my SIM"
aNeyer, Clotilde; it is too horri-
ble."
1 broke from her trembling hold,
ard covered up my face, for sudden
lv the women whom l once loved
had grown abhorrent to me. For
many minutes neither spoke or stir
red; nv heart seemed dead within
me, and what went on in that stormy
soul l shall never know. Suddenly
[ was called, and as I turned to leave
her, she seized both my hands In a
desparing grasp, covered them with
repentant tears, and clung to them
in a paroxysm of love, remorse and
and grief, till l was forced to go,
leaving her alone with the memory
other sin.
That night 1 was like one in ter
rible dream; everything looked un-
real, and like an automaton Iplayed
nv part, for always before me l
seemed to see that shattered body
and to hear again that beloved voice
confessing a black crime. Rumors
of the accident had crept out, and
damped the spirits of the audience,
vet it was well, perhaps, for it made
Them lenieut to the short comlngs OF
the actors, and lent another shadow
to the mimic tragedy that slowly
darkened to its close. Clotllde S un-
natural composure would have been
a marvel to me had I net been past
s,rnrise at anV demonstration on her
part. A wide gulfnow lay between
us, seemed almost impossible for me
to cross it. The generous, tender
women whom first loved, was stlli
as beautiful and dear to me as ever,
but as much lost as if death had par
ted us. The desperate, despairing
creature 1 had learned to know with
in an hour seemed like an embodl-
ment of the murderous' spirit which
had haunted me that day, and
though by heavens mercy it had not
conquered me, yetn hated it with
remorsefull intensity. So strangely
we're the two blended in my troubled
mind that 1 could not separate them,
and they exerted a mysterious in
auence over me. When with Clo-
tide she seemed all she had been
ever. and 1 enacted the lover with a
power l had never known before,
| feeling the while that it might be for
the last time. When away from her
the darker impressions returned, and
the widest of the poets words were
not too strong to embody my sorrow
and dispair. They told me long af-
terwards that never had the tragedy
been bitter played, and I could be-
lieve it, for the hapless italian lovers
never found better representations
than in us that night.
Worn out with suffering and ex-
citement, I longed. for solitude and
silence with desperate longing, and
when Romeo murmured "With a
kiss I die, fell besides the bier,
wishing that / too was done with
life. Lying there. l watched Clo-
tide through the little that remained,
and so truly, tenderly did she rem
der the pathetic scene, that my heart
softened, all the early love returned
strong and warm as ever, and l felt
that / coad for forgive. AS she
knelt to drew my dagger l whisper
warningly.
"Be careful, dear it is very sharp"
81 know it." she answered with
shudder then cried aloud.
"Oh happy dagger this is thy
sheath; there rust, and let me die"
@Again I saw the white arm raised,
the flash of steel as Juliet struck the
blow that was to free her, and sink
ing down beside her lover, seemed
to breathe her life away.
e'I thank God its over" l ejacula
ted. few minutes later, as the cur
tain slowly fell. Clotilde did not
answer, and feeling how cold the
cheek that touched my own had
grown, I thought given away at last
"She had tainted; lift her Demon
and let me rise,'' 1 cried as Count de
Paris, sprang up with joke.
"Good God, she has hurt herself
with that cursed dagger" he ex-
claimed, as raising her he saw a red
stain on the white draperies she
wore.
I staggered to my feet, and laid
her on the bier she had just left, but |
no mortal skill could heal that hurt,
and Juliet's grave-clothes were her
own. Deaf to the enthusiastic cla-
NOR that demanded our-re-apperance
blind to the confusion and dismay |
about me, 1 leaned over her passion
ately, conjuring her give me one
word Of pardon and farewell. As
ifmy voice had power to detain her,
even when death called; the dark
eyes, full of remorseful love, met
mine again, and feebly drawing from
her breast a paper, she motiOned
Keen to take it, murmuring in tone
that changed from solemn afirma
to the tendernest penitence.
Lamar is innocent did it. This
will prove it. Paul, have tried to
atone-oh, forgive me, and remem-
Der me for my loves sake"
Ibid forgive her; and she died,
smiling on my breast. 1 did remem-
Der her through a long, lonely life,