The Tipton advertiser. [volume] (Tipton, Cedar Co., Iowa) 1856-1962, 1876-04-20
THE WAGES OF SIN.
The Sandusly DefhuIter, and
His PaFamOuF Discovered In
the Island or Ccy1On.

Sandusky in 1850, who defaulted and
ran away with the wife of his deputy.
The Register completes the story
giving the full narrative of the trav-
eler who found the guilty pair living
in affluent style in Ceylon. He visit
ed their house and after fine dinner,
the following took place:
"Sir," said he, in tones which l
shall never forget, ''if have sinned,
God in Heaven knows that | have
suffered: and if in F.'s bere avement
he has cursed me, that curse is fear
fully fulfilled. Poor Mary is dying
has been dying for months and have
known it. 1t has been for me to see
the failing step-the dimming eye;
it is for me now to see the terrible
struggles OF her nearly worn out
frame; it is for nae to listen to her
language Of remorse that sometimes
almost drives me mad. Yes, mad,
mad" he said in frenzy, rising and
crossing the floor with long, hasty
strides. Then burying his face in
his hands he exclaimed, "Too late!
too late! l have repented" There
was lorg pause, and he continued
calmly: mo human means can now
restore my poor companion. Her
moral sensibilities become more and
more acute as she fails in strength,
so that she reproaches herself con-
stantly." A weary, mournful sigh
broke from his lips as if his heart
would break. "Oh, if he knew" he
exclaimed again, "If he knew how
bitter penalty she is paying for the
outrage she has committed upon him,
he would pity her-and, if could be,
forgive. Will you SEQ her, sir:"
| shrank from the very thought.
"She has asked for you, sir; do not
deny her request. Hearing that you
came from America, she entreated
me to bring you to her. ! promised
that | would"
81 will 60, them
Up the cool, wide, matted stairs he
led me. into chamber, oriental in
its furnishing and chaste in its mag
ni6cence. There, half reclining in .
vide, easy chair-a costly shawl Of
lace cast over her attenuated shoul-
ders; the rich dressing gown cling
ing and followed to the ravages sick
ness had mado-sat one whose great
beauty and once gentle gifts made
the light and loveliness Of the sacred
home. The eyes only retained their
lustre; they were wofully sunken.
The blazing fire, kindled at the vitals,
burned upon her sharpened cheeks
burned more iercely, more hotly, as
she looked upon my face. l could
think no more Of anger; | could only
say to myself, "Oh, how sorry | am
for you." She knew, probably by
her husbands manner, that | was
aware OF their circumstances.
The first question was: care you
going back to America, sir?"
The hollow voice startled me. /
seemed to see an open sepulchre. !
told her that it was not my intention
to return at present. "Oh, then, Who
will take my little child back to her
father?" she cried, the tears falling.
81 am dying, and she must 60 back
to him. 1t is the only reparation /
can make-and little enough-for the
bitter wrong ] have done them.'
81 hoped, sir, you might see him."
she added moment after, checking
her sobs; 81 hoped you might tell
him that his image is before me
from morning till night, as know he
must have looked when the first
shock came. Oh, sir, tell him my
story. Warn, oh, warn everybody.
Tell him l have suffered through the
long, long hours these many years
ah, God only knows how deeply"
"Mary, you must control your feel
ings,' said my host, gently. "Let
ME talk while l may" was the an
swer. "Let me say that since the
day l left my home l have not known
a single hour of happiness. 1t was
always to come-always just ahead
and here is what has come-the
grave is opening, and 1 must go to
judgment. Oh, how bitterly have l
paid for my sin. Forgive me, oh,
my God, forgive"
IL was solemn hour, That which
| spent by that dying peni:ent.
Prayer she listened to-sne did not
seem to join; or, if she did, she gave
no outward sign. Remorse had worn
away all her beauty even moro than
illness. She looked to the future
with despairing kind of hope and
feeble faith. Reader, the misguided
woman Of Ceylon lies beneath the
stately branches Of the palm tree.
Her sweet child never met her father
in her native land. She sleeps under
the troubled waters of the great wide
sea. Where the betrayer wanders 1
cannot tell, but wherever it is there
is no peace for him. How often
rings that hollow voice in my ear,
Tell him my story! Warn, oh, warn
every body!"- Cleveland Leader.
A man whose lack of energy and
business tact causes him IN fail in