Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1875-02-19
BRATTLEBORO, VT, FRIDAY,

"You have been untruthful with me,
Aasta."
She turned away, but he followed her,
and continued:-
"And you have made me untruthful, too /;
there hasn't been perfect truthfulness, be-
tween us a single day ever since we have
been together.
He stood 80 near that she could feel his
hot breath he looked straight into her
eyes till she felt quite giddY; she knew
not what he might the next moment say or
do; and so she closed her eyes. She stood
as though she must either fall or rush
away the crisis was coming
In this prelude of deep silence, Botolf
himself became afraid. Still, once more
he began in his former strain:-
make every thing clear make an end
OF all this miserable trckery and-con-
cealment do il bere-now."
"Yes," she answered, but quite uncon-
sciously-"so ! say-do it here-now
He gave loud cry, for she rushed past
him and flung herself over tie steep. He
caught a glimpse of her golden hair, her
uplifled hands, and the kerchief, which
spread out, slipped of, and foated slowly
down after her by itself. He heard no
shrek, and he heard no fall into the water
below; for ii was very far down. Indeed,
he was not listening for he had sunk TO
the earth.
Out from the sea, she had come to him
that night at first into the sea she had
now passed away again and with the sto-
ry Of her life. In the midnight darkness
OF that silent deep lay all that was dear to
him should he now follow He had come
to that place with a firm determination to
make an end OF the thing that tormeAted
him; this was not the end and now it
never could come; the trouble was, in
deed, only now in reality the beginning.
Assta's deed cried out TO him that he had
made terrible mistake, and had killed
her. Even If his misery should become
ten times greater, he must live on TO find
out how all had happened. She, who was
almost the only one saved on that fearful
night, had been saved only TO be killed by
him who lad saved her. He, who had
gone voyaging and traficking as if the
whole world were nothing but sea and
mart, had all at once become a victim of
love which had killed the woman of his
choice, and must now kill him. Was he
bad manH He had never heard any one
say so, neither had he ever felt it himself
But what II, afler all, 1t were SC? He rose !;
not, however, TO cast himself over the
steep, but to return to the valley; no man
kills hi nself when he has Just found a
great enigma which he wishes to solve.
But the enigma of Aasta's life could new
er be solved now. She had lived in Amer
lea ever since she had grown up; and she
was coming from there when the ships ran
into each other. In what part of America
should his quest beglnf From what part
OF Norway she had at first come he did hot
positively know and he was uncertain
even whether her family name had not
been changed since. And that foreign
skipper! Who could he be Did he know
Aasta or was il only she who knew some
thing OF him? To question thus was like
questioning the very sea; and TO journey
forth to investigate, was like plunging into
its depths.
Surely he had made a terrible mistake.
a woman penitent on account of some
guilty thing would have found relief in
confessing il to her husband; and one still
impenitent would have sought refuge in
some evasion or other. But Aasta had nel-
ther confessed anything nor had recourse
TO any evasion, but had sought refuge in
death when he had so tormented her. Such
conduct showed no sign of guilt But why
notH Some folks had dread of confessing
anything. Aasts, however, had no such
dread; but she had already Messed there
was something about her life which she
could never tell him. Perhaps, then, the
greatness Of her guilt had made confession
impossible? But she could not have haC
the burden of any great guilt upon her
for she was oflen joyous-nay, even full o
fun. She was hasty and imPetuous, 1t II
true; but she was also very full of tender
feeling and kindiness. Perhaps the gui!
= was some other PERSONS and not hers a
l all? Why, then, had she never told hin
l sof If she had only done this, all woulC
have come right. But supposing Their
were no guilt, either on her side, or on tha
OF anybody else, how then? But she her
self had said there was something sh
could never tell him. And then, hoy
e about that foreign skipper she was so muci
y afraid oiH All, had she been still alive, h
o would still have tormented her! Thi
thought moved him deeply, and made hin
reproach and despise himself more beyonC
a measure.
l Still he began again-perhaps she wa
" not so guilty as others might have thought
u How often did we do wrong quite limo
Gently, and only through ignorance, thougl
: so few could understand that! Thus Aast
had thought that he, who was always ful
i OF suspicion, would not understand II
Out of one clear, simple answer he woul
o have found matter for hundred suspicion
% questions; and so she had chosen to con
d fide herself 10 death rather than to him
" Why could he never leave her in peace
II She had fed from the things of her pas
L life, and sought refuge with him and the
he, forsooth, must constantly drag ther
u forward and fling them in her face Sh
l. was truly attached to him, and showed hiI
all love and tenderness what right had ht
y then, to concern himself about her past
And if he had such right, why did h
not say so in the beginning2 Whereas
1t the more her affection had grown, the NOR
10 his disquiet had grown likewise-whe
d, she, not merely through admiration ant
d gratitude, but also through love, had be
D. come wholly his own, then, forsooth,
a. had begun to wish TO know all about whI
i'd she had done and been in days gone by
I'd The more, too, she had pleaded for herse
the worse he lad insisted that there wa
70 something he ought TO be told.
o. Then, for the first time, rose the quei
OF ton, had he told her eVerythingf Woul