The herald and mail. [volume] (Columbia, Tenn.) 1873-188?, 1874-11-27

ing.
In its prelude of deep silence, BotoI
himself became afraid. Still, once NOR
he began IN his former strain
Make everything clear; make an en-
OF all this miserable triokery and con
csalment-do it here-now."
eyes," she answered, but quite IN
conscisusly-'' so I say-dO it here
now"
He gave loud cry, for she rushed
past him and fang hergeIf over thu
steep. He caught a glimpse of he
golden hair, her uplifted hands, and th,
kerchief, which spread out, slipped off
aud tiOated slowly down after her b.
itself. He heard no shrek, and b.
beard no fell into the water below; fol
it was very far down. Indeed, he We,
not listening; for he had sunk to the
earth.
Out from the sea, she had come tc
him, that night, at first; into the sea,
she had now passed away again and
with her, the story of her life. In the
midnight darkness of that silent deer
lay all that was lear to him should be
not follow? He had come to that place
with firm determination to make an
end of the thing that tormented him
this was not the end ; and now it could
never come the trouble was, indeed,
only now in reality beginning. Aasta's
| deed cried out to him that he had made
a terrible mistake, and had killed her.
Even if his misery should become ten
times greater, he must live on to find
ont how all had happened. She, who
was almost the only one saved on that
fearful night, had been saved to be
killed by him who had saved her. He,
who had gone voyagiUg and trafficking
about as if the whole world was moth
ing but sea and mart, had all at once
| become the victim of love which had
| killed the woman of his choice, and
must now kill him. Was he bad man
He had never heard any one say so.
neither had he ever felt it himself. Bat
what if, after all, it were SO? He rose !;
not, however, to cast himself over the
| steep, but to return to the valley; no
man kills himself Just when he has
found great enigma which he wishes
| to solve.
But the enigma of Aasta's life could
never be solved now. She had lived
In America ever since she had been
| grown up; and she was coming from there
when the ships ran into each other. In
what part of America should his quest
begin? From what part of Norway she
had at first come he did not positively
know; aud he was uncertain even wheth-
er her family name had not been chang.
ed since then. And that foreign skip
per? Who could he be? Did he know
Aasta, or was it only she who knew
something of him ? To question thus
was like questioning the very sea and
to journey forth to investigate was like
plnnging into their depths.
Surely he had made a terrible mis-
take. A woman penitent on account OF
some guilty thing would have found re-
lief In cOnfessieg it to her husband
and one still impenitent would have
sought refuge in some evasion or other
Bat Aasta had neither confessed any
thing nor had recourse to any evasion,
but had sought refuge in death when
he had so tormented her. Such con-
duct showed no sign Of guilt. Bat
why not? Some folks had great dread
of confessing anything. Aasta, how
ever, had no such dread {; for she had
already confessed there was something
about her life which she could never
tell him. Perhaps, then, the great
ness of her guilt made confession i'm
possible? But she could not have had
the burden of any great guilt upon her;
for she was often jOyous-nay, even full
of fun. She was hasty and impetuous,
it is true but she was also very full OF
tender feeling and kindliness. Perhaps
the guilt was some other persons and
not hers at all? Why, then, had she
never told him so? If she had only
done this, all would have come right.
But supposing there were no guilt,
either on her side, or on that of any
body else, how then? But she herself
had said there was something she could
never tell him. And then, how about
that foreign skipper she was so afraid
of? How was it Z? In the name of good
ness, how was it 4? All, had she been
still alive, he would still have tormented
her This thought moved him deeDly,
and made him Teproach and despise
himself beyond measure.
Still he began again-perhaps she
was not so guilty as she herself believed;
or perhaps not so guilty as others
might have thought? How often did
we do wrong quite innocently, and only
through ignorance, though so few could
understand that Thus Aasta had
thought that he, who was always full of
suspicion, would not understand it.
Out of one clear, simple answer he
would have found matter for hundred
suspicious questions and so she had
chosen to confide herself to death rather
than to him. Why could he never leave
her in peace? She had fled from the
thingU of her past life, and sought re-
fuge with him and then he, fOrsooth,
must constantly drag them forward and
fling them in her face ! She was truly
attached to him, and showed him all
love and tenderness what right had
he, then, to concern himself about her
past? And, if he had any such right,
why did he not say so in the beginning ?
Whereas, the more her affection had
grown, the more his disquiet had grown
hkewise-when she, not merely through
admiration and gratitude, but also
through love, had become wholly his
own, then, fOrsOoth, he must begin to
wish to know all about what she had
done and been in days gone by. The
more, too, she had pleaded for herself
the worse he had thought of her, and
the more he had insisted that there was
something he ought to be told.
Then, for the first time, arose the
question, had he told her everything !
Would 1t really be right for husband |
and wife to tell each other everything |
Would all be understood if it were told? |
Most certainly not.
He heard two children playing, and |
he looked around. He was sitting in |
the green inclosure Aasta had spoken of !
a little while ago, but he had not been
aware of it till now. Five hours had |
passed he thought it was a few min
utes. The children had most likely |
been playing there for long time ; but |
he heard them now for the first time.
What Was not one of them Agnes, |
the clergyman's little daughter of eight |
years, whom Aasta had loved even TO |
ldolatry, and who was so like her ! |
Cool heavens! how like she was.
Agnes had Just set her little brother |
upon great stone, where he had been |
in school, while she was school-master. |
"Say now just what say" she COM
manded. "Our Father"
"Ou' Farver."
"Who art in heaven"
"'Eb'm."
"Hallowed be thy name"
"'Aryid be name"