Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1875-09-30

and, finally, only one continued to burn the
conversation to flow slower and slower; and
more and more deserted became the bridal
hall. The monk continued to stand ever i'm
movably the same-a silent and mournful
look fixed upon the bridal pair
The tables we're removed the few remain
ing guests wandered here and there the fam
ily drew together in small circle. The monk
removed, unlimited, into this narrow circle.
know not how it happened that no one accost
ed him, but no one had addressed word tc
him.
The female relations pressed around the
trembling bride, who cast beseeching and
seeking look upon the venerable stranger
The stranger answered it not by any returning
look.
The men assembled themselves, in like man.
ner, around the groom. There fell upon the
company an oppressive, expectant silence.
"Oh! how is it?' broke out the Marquis, who
alone of the company seemed not to have OBJ
served the unknown; or, at least, to express
no concern or surprise at his presence. "How
is it that we are all go happy, and my son,
Heronymo, fa;lo 40 e nz--
"Hast thou hidden him and he has failed
to come ?" asked the monk.
1t was the first word he had spoken. We
all gazed at him in amazement.
"Alas! he is gone, from whence there is no
RETURN" said the old man. "Worthy sir, you
misunderstood me; my son Heronymo is
dead"
"Perhaps he fears to show himself in such
company" the monk added. "Who knows
how be may look thy son Heronymo? Let
him hear the sound of the voice, which was
the last he heard. Let thy son Lorenzo call
him."
"What does this mean p they all murmured.
Lorenzo changed color. I do not deny
that my hair began to rise. The monk, in
the meanwhile, had stepped to the side-board,
where he took glass of wine and raised it to
his lips. "The memory Of our dear Hero
nymo," said he, "who loved the dead drink
with me-"
"Whoever you may be, most kind sir, D."
cried finally the old man, "you have men
toned very dear name, and give you vel.
come. Come, my friends" while he turned
himself toward US, "et the glass 60 round; let
d stranger not shame U.s."
"To The memory of my son Heronymo."
Never, l believe, was toast drank with SO
little spirit One glass still remained un'
touched.
"Why does my son, Lorenzo, refuse to drink
this friendly pledge?"
Trembling all over, Lorenzo took the glass
from the Franciscan's hand trembling he
raised it to his mouth. my we'll beloved
brother, Heronymo," stammered he, and shud
dering, he set the glass down.
"That is my murderer's voice." cried fear
full shape, which suddenly stood in our midst
clothed in bood.stained garments and dis
figured with CHASTITY wounds.
"Let no man ask me further questions,
said the Sicilian, with signs Of great fear in
his countenance.
NY senses had left me from the moment
that l cast my eyes on the shape, as had those
Of every one present.
When we came again to ourselves, Loren
20 was wrestling with death. Monk and ap'
partition had vanished. The chevalier, in ter
rible convulsions, was carried to his bed. Nc
one except the priest was at his death-bed
and ttGe gray otd marquis followed him re"
weeks after. His confessions we're buried in
the bosom of the priest who heard them, and
no living man beside knows aught Of them.
Not long after these events had transpired
in clearing we'll, in rear of the country
house, which was concealed by some wild
growth, and which had been disused for many
years. the skeleton of man was found. The
house, where these things took place, stands
no longer. The family of M-nte has per-
ished, and in a convent outside of Salerno
Antone's grave is pointed out.