The workingman's advocate. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1864-1877, 1872-03-30

ment, with a crowd Of people gathered, like
ghostly statues, in the twilight about it.
Some Of the men had already constructed
litter. ! was requested rs knew Mrs
Atwick, perhaps, better than any one in
the village to hasten on before, and break
the hideous truth to her ~ gently as
could. shrank back, appalled,. Demur-
ring and fearful, | should positively have
declined this painful duty Of friendship,
but for the temporary absence of our rector,
and the necessity Of speedy action in some
one. The statement Of great writer that
there is something not altogether unpleas-
ant to us in the misfortunes of our dearest
friends. is a rank libel upon even medium
human nature. | should not have been
more distressed if Mary Atwick, the woman
a. whom Was goingOn such an errand, had
been my own sister And vet. my acqualn-
tance with her Was very slight. She was
anything but a popular woman she had
mingled but little with the people of the
village, and had thus remained without
friends. while Atwlck himself had been
universal favorite had visited his house
on more social terms than any one else,
believe. and though had never found her
varying from a cold and naughty reserve, !
had every reason to believe that Atwick
was deVotedly attached to her and his chill
dren. II, however, had known it to he
otherwise If they had been to each other
objects of mutual Indifference. or some
thing even nf aversion. should | not still
have hesitated to break the quiet Of
household with the tidings Of such death
t. one # its members Yet, | was so
Al I.,,..l .f
that | had realized nothing of my position,
and had not a thought Of what | was to
say-even when found my hand upon the
gate of the ward mclosure All at once,
however "A sense uf what had come to do
struck terror "a my soul, and the same
shudder | had experienced IN my Office
thrilled me from head t. foot. There were
no lights about the house as | went up the
gravel walk But thought some one had
come un the same errand, as | saw the tig-
ure ~ man going up the steps before me.
| paused an instant on the threshold Of the
P"rtlcn. waiting for the figure, with his
back toward me. To- lift the knOcker to
strike fur admission, when the door flew
"y+n without a sound. and the person en-
tering revealed To- me. my God the blood
stained features of Fgnton Atwick him
>,lf
How. how ,'' cried have YOU re-
covered sufficiently Ia get there before me,
and alone
Ii moved toward the door If an inner
room. reckoning to me with its mutilated,
bloody hand. And voice that | should
have known, without the words. belonging
To nothing mortal, said slowly II am here,
,,,t H.. b.f hf.I
follows On apace. Over it l have no further
control But that thou doest. do quick
W. or poor Mary's heart will be broken.
was still looking. when the figure van
ished. as | knew it would, and ! was again
alone III the moonlight. Wondering,
amazed everything but frightened, Ipaused
a moment III dumbfounded bewildernent
There was no stronger emotion III heart or
mind than bitter, bitter sorrow for the wo-
man up stairs, as | stepped back and gave
a long. long rap upon the door. A servant
came to light the lamp in the hall, and ad
mitted me Mrs. Atwick came in a moment.
Her face was winter than the gown she
wure AS she looked at me-
II was at my window, up stairs, when
saw you come i'll the gate, with DIR. Atwick
beside you. Tell me where he has gone y
tried to speak to her, but | could not.
Nv lips were sealed. when all at once she
went down on her knees, crying out that he
was dead She asked no confirmation from
me If the horrible truth that had come
upon her. | never saw any creature go on
as she did in my life. hope in Gods
mercy, never may. When | spoke to her
at last, she rallied out at me Ito begOne,
and leave her alone, for had murdered
him :" think her mind had entirely lost
its balance. | knocked at the door Of the
next house, and babe the woman to go to
her for ! could do nothing. They had tax
en- her up stairs, when the heavy tramp Of
the men with the litter was heard without.
He has shown no symptoms of returning
consciousness, | suppose = ] said to Fleet.
Consciousness | should say not,
when he was dead even before Jones had
lifted him from the earth, was answered.
When the body was laid out-in spite OF
the horror that came over me by its pres
ence-I looked at it, ] knew that he was
dead, As dead as you or | will be when We
have slept under the sod thousand years.
And vet | could not divest myself Of the
idea that there was latent expression OF
consciousness about the face. | saw ii
through the CONCEALED blood upon his TEN
ple-even after had touched his brow with
my fingers, and found it colder than the
marble slab upon the table close at hand.
No wonder they should tell me | was white
and sick Men have been as pale with faI
less cause
They sent me home with a young fellow
named Compton. He and and some Others
were to sit up the next night. had not
slept one wink when the day dawned again
but | was glad to walk about beneath the
light Of the sun, and be able to talk about
that fearful accident with my fellow towns
men, though in so strange and subdued a
voice. When the evening came ! went
back to the widowed house again. The
horror of the thing seemed as fresh upon
them all as on the evening before and
strong men sat in the shadow Of this great
calamity, with eyes on which the mist Of
tears had gathered, ever and anon, and
talked-if at all-in hushed whispers t.
each other
1t was the old -fashi med way, and we
were sitting in the room with the corpse.
II was considerably past midnight, when !
took book from the little table, on which
pot of coffee had been placed, and begar
to read. Soon after this, three of the mel
proposed walk but as Charley Fleet anC
Compton were to remain, | said nothing
was still reading, as wide awake and a
free from fear as | ever was in my life
when the same shudder ] have spoken d
twice before ran over me from head 70 foot
and froza the blood in NV veins The hoOk