The Newberry herald. [volume] (Newberry, S.C.) 1865-1884, 1874-09-30

| could not do otherwise than
promise, and thus it was written
that we should meet again. /
turned aside and spoke to my dog,
who had been waiting patiently
during the conversation. He leap,
ed up toward me, and bis leg strlk-
ing the hammer Of my towling-
! piece caused it to explode. The
explosion frightened the lady's
horse, so that he reared up, and
partly threw her off. Before he
could run as he attempted to do, l
had caught his bride, and assisted
the lady TO the ground. She lean
ed upon my shoulder all pale and
white, and asked if | was hurt. l
assured her | was not.
Il am so thankful" said she,
shat YOU are not injured, and that
you have saved my life" Her
cavalier assisted her to remount,
and bowing to me, they rode away.
The evening passed off brilliant
ly, the glare and dazzle Of worldly
beauty ard fashion was there
Need say that in spite Of all |
was restless and most miserable.
She had seemingly forgotten tho
almost tragic event Of the morn
ins and laughed and converscd
saiIy with all. When I looked
with loving eyes upon her glorious
beauty and purity, and upon the
marked attendance bestowed upon
her by her friend, Mr.. B., [ was
sorry tha: l could not have died
~ her feet in the morning. l
could bear the sight no more, and
stepped out upon the dark vine
covered piazza. The night breeze
famed my heated brow, and | had
began to grow calm, when a cou-
pic came out Of the drawing room
and sauntered slowly up. l step
ped back in the shade to lot them
pass. It was Muriel and q gen
tleman. I can hear her voice
now, the low musical voice, she
spoke calmly and deliberately:
"No, my friend, l cannot accept
your proposal, and since you press
me, l must say that | do love one
other than yourself; one who is
high aud noble"
They passed on by me, and
were soon out Of hearing. l
clcnched my hands, and stood
still.
"Another poor FOOL" [ mutter-
Cd. "The chosen one is Baxter.
| have heard from her own lips
tho words that seal my fate. All
hope is now gone. | am glad TO
know the worst. l 60 out from
her presence, and will sec her face
no more
l returned home and passed an
almost sleeplcss night. Toward
morning | fell into o troubled
sleep, vixen I awokc the sun was
shining in at my window, and [
was hot and fcverish. From day
to day my fever increased, such
days Of dreary restlessness, of
tossing to and fro, of times when
the mind seemed to wander far
off, and then, like the prodigal
son, to return, of times strange
throbb;ng Of heart and brain, of
times when the faces of friends
and attendants would take strange
and fastactic shapes, of times
when the voices Of loved ones
would sound far away, setar away.
And then a strange calm fell upon
me, the old physician shook his
head, and my friends wept. |
was dying. The grave with all
its friendly quiet was at hand
The last prayer was said, a friend
knclt down to catch my last
words.
The earth was slipping fast
away from beneath my feet. [
struggled for strength and mur-
murcd:
"rell Muriel I loved her to the
| last"
Tho strange calm grew stranger
1t grew dark, the friendly
voices sounded miles and miles
away. | felt that my eyes we're
being closed, and then all was
still. Peace had come at last.
! How long l had lain thus |
knew mott seemed years. |
heard sound-it was the melody
OF heavenly music. 1t grew nearer
and nearer. l listened with rapt
attention, with awe.
1t was the solemn sound Of the
church organ, and voices singing
q funeral dirgc. The fact gradual,
ly broke in on my bewildered
mind. I was lying in my coffin
in the church. My first impulse
was to endeavor to attract the at.
teution of somo one. [ might
have quivered an eyelld, by a mos'