Litchfield enquirer., 1873-04-17
saNSWho1o NO 2497-

.s Noel, she said, don't be angry with me. want to see the little church on the hill once again ..-- sI drew her down close to me and spoke of my scheme, but she only shook her head sadly, and laid it on my shoulder like tired child. l.l g. " Noel" she said, T want to tell you something, and you must not think am fancifui. believe am very i'll, dying, Let me see the church once once noHes"
 Mir. Caperne stopped a moment to stroke the curly head on which his hand rested. '......-- ~ .t- 'T knew what was in her mind then" he resumed; :'but I could not thwaaa her, and was right. I left my sister at rest 1 in the little churchyard on the hill, just where she leaned over the wall ono baimy evening, looking out into the sunlit West; and the waves must rock her to sleep" finished Mir. Caperne, softly. 'Now. is it any wonder that was 6 murderer at heart p he said. ''I wan dered to and fro over the earth seeking vengeance, but I have never found him yet" "Mr. Caperne," said Lucy, slowly, have you forgiven?"
 He looked up ot her with strange mix S1AC OA "4StAAAACSO SS4u udSCIA1uAkIVu All his face.
 "No, am not a murderer now" he re- piled; ''but will tell you what I have done. 1have knelt on the grave in the little churchyard and vowed & VOW never to tooch the hand of this man or any be- longing to him in fellowship; to remem- Der, as long as live, that there is blood between us"
 Lucy's heart sank with some indefna- ble fear and foreboding, and she put her ! hand on his sleeve, hardly conscious of the act
 ''Mr. Caperne p she said. Then he forgot that thero were others
 in the room, for he took the delicate fin l gers into his own, and said, "Do you
 blame me, Lucy? You must not,-you of all people in the world. I could not lose your good opinion, and live" NO one put the peIson Eney were meant Tor heard those last two words; but at thls luncture madame's knitting-needles,
 which had long been silent, were put away
 and she crossed the room hurriedlv. and went out Half an hour afterwards Lucy
 found her standing before the portrait of
 a boy, painted some twenty years ago.
 The kind old hands were pressed together tightly, and the lips were moving: but
 when her daughter spoke, she only stoop-
 ed, and kissed the girls forehead. with a
 brief good night.
 As for Noel, he was leaning against his window, looking at the moonlight over the Cor, and the gray church tower, and the trees; and there was strange tumult in his heart.
 ''Why did tell her ?" he unused. "I don't know, but feel better for it, calm CT. She did not turn away from me. She would have me forgive. Would she for give, wonder, in such case? meant to go away tomorrow, it is true, but can not. cannot put the cup from my lips just yet, ,-the opium cup which brings such dreams as mlne. do not write po- etry, because every day is poem, sweet CT than mortal hand could write. The whole world has changed it's face, Ithink. Will there be any awakening for me, I wonder? and how, and when ?"
 Thus was the awakening, They were bendingitogether over the piano, MT. Ca- psrne carelessly turning over the piles of music, when something seemed to startle him, and he stood upright, with his hand pointing to name, written in a bold. struggled hand, on one of the songs. 'Julian Dudley"
 "Fhis belongs to --" he stammered.-