Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1877-03-02

his wife's arm, He had relaxed his hold,
but not abandoned 1t, as if by some mag
netic influence of his touch he could DOM
mate her spirit. But at this moment tho
passion he had so long reprcssed was too
much for him. Tightening his grasp, he
raised her arm and shook 1t violently be-
tween bis face and hers, which ho had
brought near together, and then, with
course your cunning" flung her hand
back upon herself II struck her across The
eyes. The lids instincively closed with
the suddenness aud violence Of the blow.
She kept them so a moment, and then rais-
ed thom-her eyes undarkened by a shad-
ow of fear, but dilated with an expression
of horror and sorrow combined that had its
effect even upon the man before her. She
muttered: 1.-The first blow the first blowl"
and with the other hand pressing back the
hair from her forehead, looked at him as II
his eyes had a dreadful fascination. There
was no confusion in his, but somewhat less
of intentness as he said quickly: "Go on,
Jane; I'm sorry. Go on; there's no stop
ping now"
NO" she said, repeating his words with
a long-drawn breath, "there's no stopping
now. Better get TO the end as quick as
can. The end is, William Dempton, that
made up my mind You were coming here,
not because you could get more land and
make your little money go farther-there
were less out-of-the way places for that
than here-but because you had talked
James into the idea of one day following
you, pretending the climate would be good
for him, and a large plantation down hero
would be good investment You meant
TO get his money somehow, | was sure.
How, l could not think, but you would
find a way-there was no good way TO such
an end. l got glimpse Of 1t at last, just
before we left. Do you remember that eve
ming when the lawyer came who managed
the purchase of our house and lot, and you
told him about fathers will and why you
sold out and were coming down here? l
wondered al your being so free to talk with
him. 1t was not natural in you and when
you raised your voice so that every word
could be heard as you went with hm to the
gate, knew you meant that those people
passing by might hear how good humored-
ly you made light Of his asking why you
did not break the will. had followed you
out on the sloop, and had stepped down on
the path behind you. AS you came back
with a slow aud heavy tread-I couldn't
but notice it-you said TO yourself, bring
ing each word out in the same slow, firm
manner "There's a surer way than that"
1t was pitch-dark, and you went hy with
out seeing me. There was no light in the
entry, except what came through the door
of the room where we had been sitting. 1t
fell on you as you turned TO go in, aud then
I saw for the first time that dreadful look
that struck my heart as you struck my face
Just now. Had it been my way TO scream
as some women do, should have cried out
"murder' then. But the idea OF it and the
fear Of it sank deeper into my mind. It's
the word that has been ringing in my brain
ever since. went quickly round 10 the
back door, and perhaps you thought that
had been up stairs, for when l came into
the room you said nothing. The black look
had nearly passed away, but my eyes met
yours, and was willing they should speak
for me. You never asked, and didn't say
anything. But tell you now, William,
that from that hour / have had but one pur-
pose in living-to TO be what you called me,
but not as you meant it-i drag upon you.
1 have meant to hold you back from doing
what il was you had planned or thought of
doing, and from going any way toward it.
1t was not TO make you unhappy. believe
that you know well why it was, and that
you believe me when say ii was only for
your sake. Not for anything that might
happen to me or 10 James, but TO keep you
from murder -murder-murder."
Her voice sank with each repetition of
the word, and her lips moved once when
no sound issued as if, now the dreadful
thought and fear were uttered that had so
long been brooded over, there was a dis
NAL necessity TO repeat it. Her brave spir-
it had struggled on so far. She had borne
up under the two-fold horror-that while
trying to impede her husbands advance
toward the crime he meditated in the dis
lance, she might possibly provoke its COM
mission sooner and in still more fearful
way. She had reached the end. She could
say, and do, and bear, no more. The only
word, in the ulterance OF which her worn
token of the strife within. The pale face
grew more palid the quivering lips be-
came rigid and bloodless; the keen ex-
preston of an anguished soul died out of
her eyes, aud she fell TO the door in a
swoon.
No further W ords passed between her hus-
band and herself on the subject that had so
powerfully agitated her. He raised and
not urgently laid her on the bed by the
side of which they had been sitting. Such
simple means of restoring her as were at
hand he promptly used. Not even a look
was exchanged as she recovered. "Will
you lie still for a whilep he asked to
which faint "yes'' was the only reply,
when he left her.
A day in February was drawing TO its
cloudy end as she moved about the house
again more feebly than her resoluto spirit
would have allowed, had there not been an
unusual reaction from the scene through
which she had just passed. The subdued
air with which she usually appeared would
not, to a close observer, have had the effect
of weakness. 1t was that OF one who sub
mitted rather than was crushed. But now
an utterly broken spirit was evident in her
couDtenance and every movement. She
had made her last effort-wilh what result ?
Somewhat later than usual the prepara-
tions for their evening meal were complel-
ed. Dempton had once come in, but find
ing the delay, had gone out again among
the outhouses. When he returned, the ta-
BILE was ready, the candle shedding its dim
light but no other sign of life appeared.
He called her name; there was no answer.
He opened the door, calling again and peer
ing round in the last glimmerng of the
IwilirhI He MaiIad a few momanIs and