The Bloomfield times. [volume] (New Bloomfield, Pa.) 1867-187?, 1874-07-21

William was able to rise from his bed
but he could neither walk about much nor
undertake the slightest occupation could
only lie dreamily during the long hours of
those summer days with Catharine seated
by his side, talking to him in her low,
sweet voice, reading to him passages from
the old poets that he loved, or soothing
him with her smiles of consolation, when
some wave from the past would dash its
chill bitterness across his soul
And in all this aver there was no touch
of human weakness, no leaning toward hu-
man frailty. William seemed gradually
wasting away-he believed it to be death,
but Catharine thought otherwise though
she could almost have prayed that such
consummation might be granted.
There was small room at the back of
the house, which was Williams favorite
apartment. Every morning Janet wheeled
his easy-chair near the open windows that
looked out upon little break in the garden
where the grass formed natural lawn, with
a single weeping willow swaying its silvery
branches to and fro in the sunlight. There
was grave, old doctor who visited him
daily, but he troubled him with few reme-
dies and no advice, SO for Catharine's sake
William managed to support his visits with
certain degree of patience,
They spoke little of the past, those two !;
Williams malady rendered him so excita-
BILE that Catharine avoided every subject that
could which cause him the least agitation.
Catharine watched him, forgetful of her
self, wearing the pleasant smile that he
loved, cheerful and hopeful always.
But the man who had wrought them SO
much suffering had not yet completed his
work, and Mr.. James never relinquished a
project of vengeance until his thirst had
been satisfied to the utmost.
While Nellie remained i'll and insensible
at his house, he had been close upon the
track of his two victims, weaving about
them the meshes of his plots, and prepar-
ing to plant another poisoned arrow in the
hearts which he had SO tortured and
wrung.
The third week of their sojourn in that
quiet place commenced, and the curiosity
of the village gossips had become strongly
excited concerning the mysterious strang-
ers.
Here they lived, never moving out, and
the two domestics, cross old Scotch wo.
man, and man servant equally uncom.
| tf
society as their employers. The religious
people of the little New England village
were solely perplexed, and one or two Of
the more prominent members of the church
suggested to the minister that it was his
duty to inquire into the affair, and there
were even some vague hints that it was a
case which might we'll occupy the attention
Of the select men Of the town.
The old parson had opposed this-a
rigid, Calvinistic Presbyterian, but with q
heart which beat more kindly under his
worn bosom than he himself dreamed Sc
the affair rested, though there were nu.
merous tea drinkings given where the sub
ject was freely discussed, and the men in
power sorely blamed for their negligence
One day, there met at the old-fashioneG
parsonage house company of the deaconi
of the church, who were also among the
select men, dropping in almost by accident
to visit their pastor. While they sat there
conversing, among other things of the
strangers, concerning whom even the vii
lage doctor could give no information, for q
physician had been employed from ter
miles away, a letter was brought in and
given to the clergyman. He took it, and
seeing that the writing was unknown tc
him, began turning the epistle over in his
hand, the invariable habit of persons tc
whom letters are unaccustomed visitants.
At length, when one of the deacons sug,
gested that he might find it more satisfac.
tory to read the contents, he broke the
seal, adjusted his spectaoles, and began to
peruse the clearly written page. The fur
rows on his brow grew deeper, and a stern
indignation gathered over his features
Some broken exclamation warned the dea,
cons that it contained tidings of import
ance, but by no means pleasurable ones
and they waited with impatieuce while the
old man re-read the epistle, always with in
creased excitement.
"My friends" he said, at length, "oul
brethren were right-these strangers arr
children of iniquity. Two fugitivos have
hidden themselves in our village, the mar
leaving fond wife 20 pine and die, while
he yields himself to the caresses of thii
Delilah.v