Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1875-03-17

DhuOC, ID VIM yOu
A thick, unnatural voice answered
her, Eyes, it's what's left O. me. Berry,
let me in (; the police are after me-"
Berenice flew down and opened the
door. An officer mounted the steps as
she did SO, and laid his hand hsavily
on Bruce Dunbar's shoulder.
"Mr. Dunbar, you are my prisoner.
"He's my husband shrieked Bere-
nice: what are you arresting him for?"
"For murder"
She looked down at Bruce, standing
in dogged silence, and by the light of
the hall lamp saw that his hands we're
red with blood, and with one awful cry
she fell white and senseless on her own
threshold.
She awoke to consciousness in her
old home, and from her mothers lips
she heard the terrible story. Her hus-
band had failed, and in order to drown
his trouble had drank deeply. In a
gambling house, where he was trying
to retrieve his losses, he had got into a
brawl, and had given his adversary q
mortal wound upon the temple.
"And it is all my fault, not his, }"
walled the poor young wife; call mine.
lured him to his ruin"
The morning before the trial a little
slip of paper was found beneath the
window of the chamber in which
Berenice lay unto death. 1t ran thus :
Goodbye, Berry. Iwon't stay here
and disgrace you. I've managed to
escape from prison, and I'm going
Heaven knows where Forget me, and
be happy. BRUCE"
Five years afterward a pale, sweet
faced woman sat in the cottage that
had once been Bruce Dunbar's home,
with little child playing at her feet
a very different woman from the frivo-
lous Berenice of days gone by. yet We
know her pearl-fair cheeks and red gold
hair. Sorrow and suffering had done
their work, and at last poor Berry saw
clearly. Her remorse hsd been deep
and bitter.
And now, day by day, with the little
boy who bore his fathers face and his
fathers name, she hoped and waited.
Her husbands crime was not murder /;
the wounded man did not die and the
way was clear for Bruce Dunbar to re-
turn; yet he did not come. He was
dead, his friends thought : but Berry
hoped with the faith of a deathless
love.
One summer day she sat at the cot
tage window with her child at her feet.
A royal summer dBy, the skies blue and
cloudless, the sunlit air sweet with the
breath of the roses and the purple
lilacs.
She had worked hard and faithful ly
in those dreary five years, poor, re-
morseful little Berry Jewels and
laces, even her fathers dowry, had
gone to pay off her husbands debts and
clear his name. Her work was done
now. She owned the cottage, and in the
shadow of the purple lilac bloom she
sat, her sweet, sad face full of an un-
utterable despair. Would he never
come back? Would Heaven never for
give her?
The latch of the wicket gave sharp
click, and the old house-dog started
forward with peculiar cry. Berenice
looked up. A tall, gaunt figure, in
threadbare garments, was coming up
the walk. The haggard, unshorn face
and bleared eyes bore no resemblance
to handsome Bruce Dunbar, but the
wife's unerring instinct could not be
deceived. She darted through the
window with low, passionate cry.
go, Bruce, my husband-at last, at
last -
She put ont her arms to clasp him,
but he held her back.
Don't; / am not worthy" he said,
hoarsely "I'm lost, degraded wretch.
But, Berry," his poor, haggard face full
of inexpressible tenderness, 81 couldn't
die till had seen you once more. Let
me look at you, and I'll leave you for
ever"
But her young arms caught him in a
close embrace, her fond lips covered
his white face with kisses.
"No, you WON'T" she cried, 'you
shall never leave me again. Your nameis
clear, your debts are paid. and there is
a new life for us to lead my husband. ]
have waited so long 1t was all my
fault, Bruce the ball at Belvidere did
it. Can you ever forgive me?"
He held her IN his arms and sobbed
upon her shoulder, like woman, IN his
weakness. She turned to the open
window and beckoned to the child.
"And there's something else, Bruce, u
she said, "for you to live for now.
Look here J"
He raised his head and saw the little
fellow at his feet looking up In grave,
childish wonder.
And Bruce Dunbar, with his wife and
child in his arms, looked up to the fal
off summer sky, asking Heaven to give
him strength to begin the new life he
intended to live.
And the strength must have beer
vouchsafed to him for in five years
more he was one of the first men in hit
native town, and it ever any feminine
weakness or temptation assailed Bere
nice, she had but to call to mind the
sad results of the Ball at Belvidere.
Through the Canyon.