The Louisianian. [volume] (New Orleans, La.) 1870-1871, 1871-02-23

I '"No. II put on this dress merely to
Judge of its effect Besides, I was 90 %
lonely without you that could not settle
myself to read or do anything else. !, The
hes sprans to herlps with spontaneous
readiness '"But. you must b tired,
Richard. Come, let US to go my room y
! She came towards me and bent over
as if to kiss me, bat at that action my
hardly-maintained composure gave way, v,
and thrust her from me with no gentle
hand. ~ ''''- 'o "a ~
! do not touch me as You value your
hfe! I cried ~ .14s.s sa.,' lsol .oI ii 81.
She recoiled from me with an new ter
ror creeping over her wan features, for
she realized in that moment that I knew
the truth. just then step sounded On
the gravel walk without. Maude heard
it and turned to spring to the window
(which was closed and the painted shades
drawn down., but I caught her wrists in
. vise-like grasp. Y eaf s,r .Yda-a
HStay." I said in . hoarse whisper.
"You shall not 60 near that window" L
Even rs I spoke loud bark from Car
broke the stiffness Then there came
. cry-not o shout, but scream of
wild terror, though uttered in mans
voice.
"Help-the dog-help-help !" rr
20 my God is Car loose p gasped
Maude, as she writhed in vain to free
herself from my grasp. f, -.
He is !" cried in fierce exultation.
Let me go-call him off-oh, he will
kill him /! he viii I'LL him p
"Kill whom Some wretched thief,
perhaps" '''' - =
1T is no thief, you say ? What then
is he who comes to rob my wife Of her
honor?
"Then you know it is Gordon Arnold !
Oh, save him p
"Save him." listened moment IN
tently. All was silent. "Go," I said,
releasing her. Il give you permission
to seek for him now"
She tottered few steps towards the
door. Then she turned and looked into
my face, and must have read my mean
ing there, for with wild cry she threw
up her arms, wavered moment, and
then fell senselcss ut my feet.
I looked at her with strange pity.
Poor, frivolous butterAy-vain, false
hearted, shallow-souled child Which of
us was the most to blame, she who had
wronged me, or I who had placed the
key Of my destiny in such unworthy
hands ? And I could afford to pity her,
for even as I took the light and turned
from her to descend the stairs I knew
that was avenged. ....,- ,..L.
I opened the onter door. All was
quiet, the silence broken only by the quick
paintings Of the bloodhound, md by
low, suppressed growl that told Of his in
tense excitement. I lowered the Light
and beheld him crouching on the pros
trate from of a, man whose white face
was turned blankly to the sky, aud
whose throat bore the scarlet imprint Of
the pitiless teeth Of my avenger, + stoop-
ed and gazed upon the rigid features
Yes, I had made no mistake. II was
Gordon Arnold.
My divorce was granted last week, To-
night sit here a free man! What shall
free my soul from remembering, my
name from dishonor, my home from de-
solution? The name that was once held
honorable among men has been dragged
into shameful celebrity; my face has
scowled on the public from the pages of
"Poice Gazettes" and illustrated journals,
and Maude's photograph has been on
sale at all the news stands on Broadway.
Dearly has my freedom been purchased,
but it is mine at last. I have shaken
that wretched woman from my life even
as would have shaken of q viper, that
had fastened itself upon my hand, but
the poison has curdled the very life-blood
in my heart. Over and over again my |
sick fancy rehearses the scene in the
courtroom, the stammering witnesses,
the smirking, jocosei lawyers, the un-
blushing spectators, my late friends and
guests, and I hear again the reading Of