Edgefield advertiser. [volume] (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, 1873-08-07
A DEBT OF HON 0 n.

YeG So SOIIuNlui IL W'tA Hot tiC
marmot upon the side of the Righi-
it was not the heron down by the
lake: no, it was distinctively human.
Hush there it is again-from the
church-yard which I have just left.
Not ten minutes have elapsed since
1 was sitting on the low wall of the
church-yard of Weggis, watching the
calm glories of the moonlight illumi-
mating with silver splendor the Lake
Of Lucerne and am certain there
was no one within the enclosure but
myself. ~,
:. am mistaken, surely. What a
silence there is upon the night Not
breath of air now to break up into
thousand brilliant ripples the long
reflection of the August moon, or to
stir the foliage of the chestnuts; not
a voice in the village; no splash OF
oar upon the lake. All life seems at
perfect rest, and the solemn stiffness
that reigns about the topmost glaciers
of st. Gothard has spread its mantle
over the warmer world below.
must not linger; as it is, shall
have to wake up the porter to let me
into the hotel. l hurry on,
Not ten PAGES, though. Again, |
hear the cry. This time it sounds to
me like the long, sad sobof wearied
and broken heart. Without staying
to reason with myself, l quickly re-
trace my steps.
l stumble abo~ among the iron
crosses and the graves, and displace,
in my confusion, wreaths Of immor-
telles and fresher flowers. A huge
mausoIeum stands between me and
the wall upon which I had been sit
ting not quarter of an hour ago.
The mausoleum casts a deep shadow
upon the side nearest to me. All /!
something is stirring there. l strain
my eyes-the figure of man passes
slowly out Of the shade, and silently
occupies my place upon the wall. 1t
must have been his lips that gave out
that miserable sound.
What shall l do? Compassion and
curiosity are strong The man whose
heart can be rent 50 sorely ought not
to be allowed to llnger here with his
desnair. He is gazing. as did. upon
the lake. l mark his profle-clear
cut AID symmetrical; l catch the
lustre of large eyes. The face as |
can see it, seems very still and placid.
may be mistaken he may merely
be wanderer like myself; perhaps
he heard the three strange cries, and
has also come to seek the cause. l
feel impelled to speak to him.
I pass from the path by the church
to the east side Of the mausoleum.
and so come toward him, the moon
full upon his features. Great heaven
How pale his face is
GOOD evening, Sir. l thought
myself alone here, and wondered that
no other travellers had founc their
way to this lovely spot. Charming,
is it not?"
For moment he says nothing, but
his eyes are full upon me. At last
be replies:
at is charming as you say, Mr
Reginald Westcar. '
"You know me?' exclaim. in as
tonishment.
Pardon me; I can scarcely claim
personal acquaintance. But yours
is the only English name entered To-
day in the Livre des Etrangers
:" You are staging at the Hotel de
la Concorde, then?'
An inclination of the head is all
the answer vouchsafed.
May l ask" l continue, "wheth-
er you heard just now a very strange
cry repeated three times?'
A pause. The lustrous eyes seem
ed to search ne through and through
i can hardly bear their gaze. Then
he replies:
81 fancy I heard the echoes Of
some such sounds as YOU describe
The echoes Is this, then, the
man who gave utterance to those
cries Of woel is it possible? The face
seems so passionless; but the pallor
of those features bears witness to
some terrible agony within.
l thought some one must be in
distress, l rejoin, hastily; land !
hurried back to see il | could be Of
any service.
Very good Of you. he answers.
coldiv but surely such a place 81,
this is not unaccustomed to tie ycicc
of sorrow.
"No doubt Ny impulse was It
mistaken one.
{: But kindly meant You will nor
sleep less sonn,iiy for acting on t!:.;
impulse, R"gimald WeStcar.
He rises as he speaks. He throws
his cloak round him, and stands mo-
tionless. l take the hint. My mys-
terious countrrmen wishes to be alone.
Some one that ne has loved and los:
lies buried here
Good night, Sir, say. as I move
in the direction Of the little chapel
at the g.,t.. "Neithcr Of us vii.
sleep the lsss soundly for thinking y.
the perfect repose t':at reigas arou'd
this place.
"What DO you mean lie asks
"Thc de;,d. reply, as [ stretch
my hand towaad the graves d.
YOU not remember the lines in KIN.
Lear?
after LIES iitful fever he sleeps wcll >"
But yo,e nave never e!ird, Ri
maid Westcar You l,now noliing q
the sleep OF dea;n.
For the third time he srrak- my
name almost i:'miliarlv, and know
not wfy-a sludder passea through
me. | have no time, in my turn. 10
ask him what lie means; for ne strides
silently away into the SHADOW OF lie
church, and l, with strange sense
of oppression upon me, return to my
hotel.