New Orleans Republican. [volume] (New Orleans, La) 1867-1878, 1871-03-19

Oc2uty. MIR. EOrOH4M Has tlku 3
II do not wish to become the repository
of your confidence" said Bertha, with chill
! ing abruptness, NOR do / care what Mr.
FOrdham chooses to tell you. Good night"
| And she mo:ioned Mrs. Raymond impera-
lively from her presence.
IL should have strucl. her in another
second" she murmured to herself, tearing
the tiny lace frill away from her throbbing
throat, as if its slight pressure impeded her
free respiration. II have seen the nurses
shrink away from me, as a child, " hen my
temper rose. There WAS murder in my
! eyes. they said. think murder came into
| my heart, when l stood there facing that
| treacherous black Keyed woman. Let her
| beware how she ventures to come between
me and minev'
Unconscious Paul Fordham! If he could
only have known, AS he paced up and down
the dewy lawn. smoking his cigar, the
| thoughts that were PASSING through inc
| mind Of his lovely betrothcd
they stood together by the great spicy
sweetbricr bush. ''do you know had quite
| "a chat with Mrs. Raymond last night .
81 n,n aware of it," answered Bertha, in
differently STOPPING to gather scented
spray.
And, by Jove Bertha. the little creature
has had the most romantic life. to.
II dare say" said Bertha. turning alb
ruptly away. 1.-The breeze is too strong out
here. | think | would rather go back to the
library"
Paul stared at his companion i'll utter be-
wildermcnt.
Il suppose that means she doesn't want
to talk any more about Zaidee Raymond.
Well, of all incomprchensible creatures "A
woman is the most incomprehensihle .
They're leagues and leagues beyond my
penetration, the whole race OF them. |
supposed she would be Interested and here
she snaps my head off before | get out Il
dozen words
And Paul followed Bertha to the library,
confused. and not altogether pleased. at the
arbitrary dccisiveness of the beautiful
blonde.
1t was about week afterward that Bertha
Wyman was coming home from IA long walk
to "a distant farmhouse, where an old school
mate OF hers resided. She had refused Paul
Fordhams escort, probably because she
long hall with Mrs. Raymond at his side
and every morning: and now she felt a little
wearicd, somewhat lonely, and very cross
The sun had been down about half an hour.
and the west was still illuminated with u
belt of orange brightness, and the winding
river, tangled along the shore with starry
water lilies, rejecting the warm glow OF
the sky like second armament.
As Bertha descended into a little wooded
hollow, fragrant with wild roses-for she
had avoided the thOrOughtare, unfrequented
though it was, and chosen instead shaded
by-path-Slle became conscious that two
other persons were stroling the road itself.
from whom she was only divided by
tangled mass of wild grapevincs, festooned
from the slender branches of a few silver
birchcs-two other persons-Paul Fordham
and Laidee Raymond
The color died away from Berthas some
what flushed checks, as she paused to listen,
for they. too, had paused where two roads
separated.
1--WE must not walk any further to-
gether." said Paul Fordhams voice. NO
body is to suspect anything yet, You know.
Well surprise them.
And then came Zaidec's soft. hcsitatins
laugh.
1T seems like dream. Mr.. Fordham."
But you will find it happy reality.
he said, looking tenderly down upon her
bowed head. You do not regret trusting
in me
"Oh." she murmured. | never dreamed
that earth had so much of happiness in
store for me yet! And l owe it all to
YOU"
And then Bertha could hear his footsteps
dying away in the distance; she could see
Mrs. Raymond standing motionless for a
moment. with her tiny hands clasped, and
then. gliding softly on. her scarlet scarf
glimmcring Through the dusk like the wing
of IA Ceylon bird.
False. taithless." muttcred Bertha I'M
der her breath. with her teeth set closely
together. And she how dare She =
The storm of hot. unreasonable fury that
ragged in her breast seemed to shake her
slight frame as leaf is shaken by the
euuinoctial gale: and her eyes literally
hlazed with blue, baleful fire. At that in
slant there was murder in Bertha Wymau's
heart.
She hurried down the twilight glade. the
thorns tearing her dress. the brars wound
ing her delicate flesh, but she felt them no
more than if they had been rose petals
blown toward her by the evening breeze.
Some strong. savage purpose was maturing
in her mind-some overmastering passion
held her whole being i'll its grasp.
She knew that. to strike into the right
road. Zaidce must ere long take the secluded
path she herself was treading. Her sole
aim was to reach the tiny foot-bridge which
crossed the narrow river first.
Aud she succeeded. 1t WAS quite dark
the fragrant, starry darkness of a mid
summer night-when she hurried down the
steep. shelving bank.
The planks are old and ruinous." she
murInnrcd. They shook and ratified under
my feet as l passed over to-day. Zaidee
Raymond shall come between me and my
plighted lover no more.
As she crossed she deliberately stopped.
tearing up plank after plank behind her.
and throwing them int" the river, with IA
dull, splashing sound. They were not large.
hut had they been twice, nay. three times
their size. Bertha Wyman would have torn
them away from the Wondering beams.
so supernatural seemed her strength in that
instant.
There. She said. half aloud. pau>ing to
look down INTO the peaceful stream where
the plahks tioatod amid the faint reflection
of innumcrable stars Long ago. when |
was a child. Il man was drowned here The
water is deep and the spot is very lonely"
The next moment she was gone. hurrying
madly away. as if some unseen presence
were following close upon her footsteps.
You're late tonight, Bertha"
Paul was looking out for her. from the
piazza steps. and came pleasantly to meet
her.
Il know it." she said putting the hair
away from her forehead. where the cold
dew stood in beads 1T is long way
from Rcdcotc Farm, and i did not walk
very fast.
Come and sit by me, Bertha, said Paul;
" I've got a long story to tell you
What is it! she asked mechanically.
It's about little Zaidee Raymond. She's
not widow. after all
- Not widow"
D." No: and how do you suppose found it
QUIT Clifford. my cousin Clifford. wrote to
me from India, and he is her husband You
see, there was some misunderstanding some
absurd quarrel between them before the
honeymoon was over He was a Jealous