The weekly clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1863-1882, 1873-01-09

Grandly beautiful she was, her crimson
dress trailing long cleaning folds, and
the diamonds on her arms and hair fash
ing tribute light to her dusky eyes.
She leaned heavily on Maurice's arm,
and her hair almost touched her cheek.
The music grew softer, fainter; Maurice
turned his head, and dropping branch
swept his hair upon his forehead. Iso-
line raised her hand and brushed il back.
The touch sent the blood like fire through
his veins. The place swan before his
eyes, and in an instant he was pressing
the hand to his heart, and pouring forth
wild words Of love.
A look of triumph flashed for an in
slant beneath her downcast lids she had
won her game. She liked the boy, and,
if she dared, she would give back love
for love; but her life already held too
many dark secrets to risk another. She
withdrew her hand.
maurice Mr.. Maur How dare
you? Is this your return for my kind
ness? Oh, base ingratitude! J"
"Ingratitude Oh, Isoline, what
have l done ?"
Forgotten that / am wife J"
Had Maurice been a man, he would
have flung back that she had first for
cotton that; but he onl y murmured, with
pale lips, Forgive me. You are my
life Ny very soul is yours"
again that insult Leave me, sir,
or call my husband"
Her voice was naughty and her eyes
cold Mutely Maurice turned away,
and left her. She waited till he left the
conservatory; and then, with low
laugh, she returned to the drawing
She left too soon to hear the bushes part,
and 4 man, with stern, white face, step
out and walk to the door, whence he
watched her as she mingled with the
throng The man was Peyton. He
glared at her with hateful eyes, and when,
in reply to remark, her light laugh
came to him, he slipped forward. But
he checked himself, and said, so or Maui
rices sake | will not. | will 60 to him.
He must let me help him"
He left the door, and went to look for
Maurice. No Maurice there. a SER
want said a gentleman had left a short
time before, looking very i'll.
"Poor boy" he muttered. 81 will
follow him" He called a carriage, and
drove hastily 10 Maurioe's home. The
door stood open. He ran quickly up TO
his room. No light was visible from
within. He knocked no answer. He
knocked again still no reply. He tried
the door; it was fast. A vague fear
stole over him. He put his shoulder to
the door; it yielded to his strength, and
swung open. He entered. His foot
struck something. He picked it up, and
knew it to be FlorenCine dagger that
he had given Maurice. The blade was
wet.
A cold horror ran over him. Holding
the dagger fast, he went towards the
mantel At his next step his foot struck
against something. Great heavens
what did it mean? With mighty stride
he passed over it, and seized the matches.
He turned on the gas, and fleeing dark
ness unveiled a sight that froze his blood.
He did not cry out. He gazed sec
ond, and a wild hope seized him. He
knelt beside him and felt his heart in
vain, the dagger had gone home. He
raised the fair young head in his arms,
and covered brow and lips with kisses
then he tenderly laid the body down !;
and, as he rose he saw, lying where he
had dashed it few hour ago, the picture
of the woman, with a scarlet blood smear
across her brow. With a curse, he
dashed his heel through the canvass, and
rushed from the room. Out in the dark
ness he hurried, towards the gay scene
where he had left her. He reached the
house. Music, and dancing, and laugh
ter confined. He laughed too when he
thought how soon he would turn that joy
to horror. He entered the house, and
looked for her among the crowd; she was
not there. He asked for her, and was
told that she had left the house few
minutes before.
Out again into the night. Her resi-
dence was not far away, and he soon
reached it. Lights were still burning,
and he rang the door-bell violently.
"Have your master and mistress re-
tired % he asked of the servant.
"No"
81 must see them"
The servant looked uncertain but
Peyton heard voices, and saw light
streaming through an open door. He
pushed the servant aside, and went to-
wards the sounds. He paused on the
threshold. 1t was the room in which he
had first saw her with Maurice. A
bright fire burned in the CRATE. Isoline,
still in her ball dress, reclined in large
chair before it, and man she called her
husband, noble white haired man, with
gentleman stamped on every feature, was
mixing soothing drink for her.
Peyton fingered on the threshold, and
a cry of pity went forth for that proud
old man, but the fair young face, all
blood-stained, was between them. and he
advanced.
Mr. Russell looked up. Astonish-
ment filled his face when he saw Peyton,
so pale and haggard; but he suppressed
it, and extending his hand, said, g gu
are welcome, Mr.. Peyton, but I fear no
pleasant errand has brought you here.
May | ask what it is 2"
Peyton did not reply. His gaze was
fixed on Isoline. She had risen from
her chair, and clutching the back for
support, she turned to him, white as mar
BILE, and with eyes full of horror.
Mr.. Russell repeated the question.
Pardon me, Mr.. Peyton, but may l
ask what you want?"
Not once did Peyton move his eyes
from the covering woman. He raised
his arm, and pointing his finger at her,
said, 81 want my wife y
A death-like silence followed the awful
words, and then Mr. Russell reached for
the bell. Peyton stopped him.
II know what you think-that l am
either drunk or mad but am neither.
Ask that woman if tell you the truth.
Ask her if found her among the slums
of a foreign city, and thought her pure
lilly blooming amid pollution, till dazzled
hr- hnr haant,z and hlindad hv her arts