The Emporia news. [volume] (Emporia, Kan.) 1859-1881, 1874-09-18

: ing from place to place. The yer!
expression of his face had changed
His eyes had sharpened, watchful
! suspicious look, as though they haC
become accustomed to strain thu
sight for some unWelcOme object
! But he met his betrOthed with mor'
than the old true tenderness.
!, 81 want you 10 marry me at once
Mary, DEAR" he said. al want you
: Then we will go away to Europe
l together, and anywhere else you
> like-wander to Ilr bsckbH;" n
the world, and jump oil, Tor ght
care. i am -, rr.tlrss aud losI
without you. With yen hv my side
l know / could lind the happiness
: which do not have a one"
"What is the mattc:, Oscar Tel
me-" said she.
Nothing, darling; nothing. Only
l want you, that is ALL"
Mary was willing enough, but
her parents said no. Mary was too
young vet. They must wait a year,
and then they would have enough
years left still to find out that mat
rimony wasn't all moonlight pic
mic. Let Oscar 60 to Europe by
himself, and spend year there, and
then come for Mary. The trip
would improve him and de him
good.
But Oscar said he'd be hanged if
he'd bulge an inch without Mary.
There would be no pleasure in sight
seeing by himself. He'd go back
home and shut himself up there,
and if they should hear that he'd
shot himself, some day, they needn't
be surprised. They hardly knew
what to make of him when he
went away, SO restless he seemed,
and by turns so melancholy.
Oscars got dyspepsia" said
comfortable old Mr.. Warren.
''That's clear. THE devil sends the
cooks, the bible says"
80, father! how can you? eX-
claimed Mrs. Warren, making great
eyes and looking extremely shock
ed.
"Well, if the bible don't say it,
that's one good thing the bible left
out, that's all. It's clear to my
mind that young mans got the dys-
pepsia-got it bad"
Some weeks Oscars letters came
every day, sometimes two or three
at once, and then there would be an
interval of q week when there
would be no letter at all. And now
there began to be a tone of deep
and abiding melancholy in the let
tiers. But they were always full of
expressions of faithful love. Mary
became almost feverish with ankle
ty.
'I wish to heaven I'd married him
and gone with him, anyhow" she |
said to Charles.
Charles himself felt more uneasy |
than he was willing to own to Ma
ry, particularly when ut last there |
came a gap of two whole weeks,
and no letter from Oscar.
81 shall surely go up to NOrridge
tomorrow afternoon, Marv," said
Charles, $50 make your mind as CO.
sy as possible"
In the morning, though, lettrr
came, but not from Oscar. 1t was
from one of Oscar Gereau's farm
men, written to Charles Warren,
and it said:
Pardon the liberty 1 take, but as
near as 1 can tell, you arc friend
of young Mr.. Gereau, and if you are,
this is to inform you that something
is wrong with him, and he ought 10
be seen to. He can neither lay nor
sit in peace, nor stand neither, ard
he is fell away to a shadow. He at
tends to all his affairs as cute as ev-
er, and keeps up the farm and all
his business in splendid order. Ifl
it want for that I'd think he was
going crazy, but / know it amt era
illness. do think he has got some-
thing on his mind, though it can't
be anything he is guilty of himself,
for cleaner young man never liV-
ed. That I'll swear.
Respectful. j. MARTIN,
p. S.-Don't tell him l wrote.
Charles Warren went at noon on
the express. Mary, now half
with fears of she knew
not what, sent loving little letter
by the hand of Charles, telling o.
car that whatever might happen she
was his in life and death, and would
marry him now at any moment he
would come to her, and go with
him wherever he liked.
Half way between midnight and {
the train reached the little
city near which Oscar Gereau lived.
The Gereau mansion was a mile out,
and Charles Warren obtained a car
riage and hurried on. AS he drove
up the long avenue of noble old
trees, in sight of the mansion, War
rem noticed a light burning family
in one OF the upper trent windows.
It was in Oscars room, as he knew,
and in q few moments he was face
to face with his friend. He was
greatly shocked at the change in
the young man, but concealed his
as well as possible.
"WhaL in the world are you out
of bed for at this time in The morn
ing 2" he demanded. II
al cannot Sleep" said Oscar. ~
burn my lamp all night because
it seems sort of company to me.
TIE phantoms of my Imagination
do not torment me SO INCREASINGLY
as in darkness"
chOly in the extreme. His once
fine, fresh face was pale and mourn
full, and his sharp, watchful eyes
fitted restlessly from point to point,
like a maniac's. Warren did not
trouble him with questions that
night. lie seemed on the brink of
luudCy w |
duced him at length to retire, and
then lay down beside him for the
rest of the night. lie slept some,
but il was like the sleep of one with
nightmare. In the morning the
friends went out for a ride, and
then it was that Charles Warren
tenderly besought the distracted
young man to reveal the sorrow
which weighed upon him. He
hung his head awhile meurnfully
upon his breast, and after rejecting
awhile, spoke as follows:
"Tell me first" he said, "upon
your honor, whether there is any
thing about me, if ever so slight,
which is at ali like the actions of an
insane man {"
NO." said Warren. "Upon my
honor, there is not" ,-rr
"Well," said Oscar Gereau slow
ly, 81 will tell you the truth, my
friend, knowing that my sad secret
will be kept secret by you till my |
death. Charles, 1 am q haunted |
man."
Nonsense, Oscar, is that ali ? |
What crazy hHmbug has your imag- |
nation conjured ?"
Yes" said Oscar. "Of course it |
is my imagination. If believed in |
the reality of it l should be convic-
ed that l was going crazy. But
what disease has taken root in my |
Imagination, or in my brain, in the |
nerves of sight, mayhap, that / |
should be haunted night and day,
wherever 1 go, by the figure of a |
woman, lovely girl with flowing |
golden hair and white garments, |
and the face in q mask. Whence |
comes that phantom to torment me,
Charles. when am nfharwiae nor