Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1877-06-27

lily, would occasionally present him
with a wild flower, and in thanking the
girl in his courteous way his eyes tray
eled out toward the east, and when the
little one questioned he answered not
word.
One day he overheard the landlord
complain of delinquent guests. He
knew he was meant, and he was. It was
a cruel allusion. 1t struck home A
face hitherto pale, underwent change
it grew older in an hour. Not friend
with means was left him.
Despair was clear cut in that suffering
face.
Some time before the Doctor had in
vited him to Potrero, sugar plantation
on a road to Vera Cruz. One evening I
passed out upon the front balcony, and
Mckay was there.
He began to speak in a voice that
quivered with emotion: "I go to
Potrero tomorrow. | shall never see
Cordova again. Three years ago [ left
home, and then [ promised myself that
nothing could ever induce me to return.
The past is bitter memory: but let that
go. Yesterday | still expected to return
to Boston, if for nothing else, to die at
home. The dream even has passed for
ever. And S., whenever it is all over,
let me be laid in some quiet place, and
when those in Boston hear of my death
let the cause be consumption" A fit Of
coughing prevented further words, and [
saw him no more.
The next morning he left Cordova
He slept at the plantation. But he
walked no more. A little phial of poison
lay beside him. He was dead.
There was a ring on his finger, and in
side were the words, from Mary to
john"
He was buried on the banks of the Rio
Seco, under the shade of the the broad
leafed banana
Two-thirds of the guests of the econ
federado" quit the house that day, and
the concern went to pieces month after
Some time after the clouds had begun
hanging about the hills and the air had
cooled from the raids of the Northers
from the coast, diligence from the rail
way terminus brought well-dressed lady
to the quaint old city She was an
American, and, ordering a room at the
Diigencia," asked if any of her coun-
trymen resided in this city.
An uncouth specimen was pointed out,
and she forthwith piled him with ques-
tions, while he answered with candor and
bluntness.
DO you know" she began, ga gen
tleman named McKay-a civil engineer?'
Yes, mann, [ did know him."
Eagerly she followed with, "And where
is he now?"
"He took poison and is dead; he's
buried on the Rio Seco.'
Before his answer was fairly out the
lady fell upon the floor in swoon.
Plying strangers lifted her up and
laid her upon a couch. Some time
elapsed before she returned to conscious
ness, and when she opened her eyes she
was changed woman. She was beauti-
full, graceful and queenly, but the face
had undergone a marked change. An
American lady, three years resident of
Mexico, called upon her, and to this lady
she poured out the depths of her sorrow
and the salient points of her sad story.
She was McKay's afianced, and in a
moment of levity let slip a remark
which cut him so deeply that he went
from her door without word. That
night he boarded a steamer and left his
country forever.
1t was by reading the Herald that she
caught sight of his name as having as
cended the volcanic peak of Orizaba.
And the first mail carried letter of in
quiry to the railway office at the Next
can capital. The reply told the story of
McKay's sickness, and that he was at
Cordova.
The next day she went to New York
and took passage in the first steamer to
Mexico. She had quick passage on the
Manhattan, but arrived at Vera Cruz a
month after the singular drama at
Petrero. She came to Cordova with the
hope of meeting Mckay, being united in
marriage, and taking him with her to
Boston.
Then she visited the spot where lie was
laid.
Let the scene be unwritten. When
she turned away, tears were in her eyes
and unutterable woe was written in
every line of her face. By her direction
a stone wall was built around the spot
and rude slab was placed at the head
of the grave with the name of the dead
upon it.
Ihe natives looked with sort OF awe
upon the graceful woman experimenting
the work, and seemed impressed with the
grief of the stricken lady.
My bonita! mary t'istep' they whis-
pered to one another.
Some memento that had drifted into
her hands she sent forward to a gulf
from whence she was to embark for her
native land.
When he was done she turned away.
To go home was all that remained;
and what a change had come to her in
week. The past was bitter enough-the
future appeared far less cheering. Miss
Mary Montfort, for that was her name,
secured seat in an eastern bound dill
gence.
The road was dusty with much travel,
the vehicle crowded. Two French off
GERS were among the passengers. An
escort Of six troopers, armed with car
bines, galloped beside the diligence but
never passed beyond. The escort were