Whig and tribune. [volume] (Jackson, Tenn.) 1870-1877, 1874-01-03
The Devoted Wife.


saw her; she was standing up at the
side of her lover at the marriage altar;
she was slightly pale, yet ever. and
anon, as the ceremony proceeded, q
faint tinge of crimson crossed her
beautiful check, like the reflection Of
a sunset cloud upon the clear waters
of n quiet lake. Her lover, as he
clasped her hand within his own, gazed
on her q few moments with unmingled
! admiration, and warm and eloquent
blood Swallowed at intervals his manly
T, forehead, aud melted in beauty on
his lips.
And they gave themselves to one
another in the presence OF Heaven,
and every heart blessed them as they
went their way rejoicing in their love.
! Years passed on, and / again saw
those lovers. They were seated to-
I gether where the light Of the sunset
I stole through half-clOsed crimson
curtains, lending rich tint to the
delicate carpeting and the exquisite
embellishments of the rich and gorge
Gus apartment. Time had slightly
changed them IN outward appearance;
the girlish buoyancy of the one had
indeed given place to the Grace of
perfect womanhood, and her lips were
somewhat paler, and a faint line Of
care was slightly pcrceptible upon
her brow Her husbands brow, too,
was marked somewhat more deeply
than his age might warrant; anxiety
and ambition and pride had grown
over it, and left their traces upon it;
a silver hue was mingled with the dark
in his hair, which had become thin
around his temples, almost TO bald
ness. He was reclining on his SPLEEN
did ottoman, with his face half hidden
by his hand, as if he feared that the
deep and troubled thoughts which
oppressed him were visible upon his
features.
Edward, yoH are i'll tonight, "
said his wife, in a low, sweet, half-in-
quiring voice, as she laid her hands
upon his own.
Indifference from those we love Is
terrible to the sensitive bosom. 1t is
as if the sun OF heaven refused its
wonted cheerfulness, and glared upon
MS with n cold, dim and fOrbidding
Glance. It is dreadful to feel that the
only being of our love refuses 10 ask
our sympathy-that he bTOOds over
the feelings which he scornS or fears
to reveal-dreadful TO watch the cOu-
yulsive features and the gloomy brow,
the indefinable shadows of hidden
emotion, the involuntary sigh of sor-
row in which we are forbidden to
participate, and whose character we
cannot know. The wife essayed once
more.
Edward" she said, slowly, mildly,
and affectiOnately, "the time has been
when you were willing TO contide your
secret Joys and sorrows to one who
has never, / trust, betrayed Your con-
tidence. Why, then, my dear Edward,
is this cruel reserve? YOu are trOub-
led, and yet refuse to. tell me the
Something Of returning tenderness
softened for an instant the cold sever
ity of the husbands features, but it
passed away, and a bitter smile was
his only reply.
Time passed on, and the twain were
separated from each other. The hus-
band sat gloomy and alone in the
damp cell Of dungeon. He had fol-
lowed ambition as a god, and had
failed in a high career. lie had min
gled with men whom his heart loathed;
he had sought out the fierce and
wronged spirits of the land, and had
breathed intos..them the madness of
revenge. He had drawn his sword
against his country; he had famed re-
bellion to a flame, and it had been
quenched in human blood. He had
failed, miserably fallen, and was
doomed to die the death of a traitor.
The door of the dungeon opened
4
herself into his arms. The softened
light of sunset fell upon the pale
brow and wasted cheek of his once
beautiful wife.
Edward, my dear Edward" she
said, 81 have come to save you; 1 have
reached you after a thousand difficult
ties, and, thank heaven, my purpose
in nearly executed.
Misfortune had so softened the,proud
heart of manhood; and, as the hus- /
band pressed his pale wife TO his bo-
som, Il tear trembled on his eyelash. /
al have not deserved this Kindness"
he murmured, in the chOked tone of |
agony.
edward" said his wife, i'll on ear
nest but faint and low voice, which |
indicated extreme and fearful debility, /
''we have not a moment to lose. BY |
an exchange of garments you will be |
able to pass out upnoticed. Haste, /
or we may be too late. Fear nothing |
for me; am woman, and they will |
not iniure me for my efforts in behalf |
of husband dearer to me than life /
itself"
''But Margaret" said the husband, |
you look sadly i'll. You cannot /
breathe the air Of this dreadful cell" |
ooh! speak not to me, my dearest |
Edward, said the devoted woman; al |
can endure anything for your sake
Haste, Edward, and all will be WE'LL"
and she aided with trembling hand |
TO disguise the proud form of her hus- /
band in female garb.
Farewell, my love, my preserver!" |
the husband in the ear of I
the disguised wife, as the officer stern /
ly reminded the supposed lady that /
the time allotted to her visit had ex- /
pired.
Farewell, we shall meet again."
the wife; and the husband /
passed ont unsupported, and escaped /
the enemies of his life.
They did meet again, the wife and /
husband; but only as the dead may
meet, in the awful cOmniunings of /
another world. Affection had borne /
mp her exhausted spirit until the last
great purpose of her exertions were ac-
in the safety of her hus-
band; and when the bell tolled on the
morrow, and the prisoners cell was
opened, the guards found wrapped in
the habiliments of their destined vic
Tim, the pale but beautiful corpse of
the devoted wife.