Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1877-09-12

laugh that restored her to herself, One
day we were in Il boat together, alone
upon the little river How remember
it all the green boughs meeting over
head, the green shadows underneath,
the sunlight sitting through, and his
face, his proud, pale, passionate face, as
he said some simple words that let me
know, not that he loved me, not that
he wished to know if loved him-as if
that had always been understood but
that he expected me soon to be his
wife. [ loved him-oh, how / loved
him !, said the old lady, clasping and
unclasping her hands again. " But
some evil spirit seized me- : How did
he know said, but that was already
pEghted to Ralph?" We had hung close
to the shore, beneath the great boughs,
and looking up as spoke, saw Mark,
the second brother, sitting in the boughs
oh, SO strange his face looked then
[ beckoned him mischievously,a and in u
moment he had parted all the leaves
and sprays, and was threatening to
spring and swamp the little boat if we
did not let him in. That night at the
homeeof the three brothers, there was a
fearful contest-I the cause. All! this
soft sweet summer night who could
believe it? and could | ever have be-
| lieved [ should sit here calmly and tell
of it to those who were not born? They
had grappled Ralph was killed his
eldest brother was found red-handed.
When Mark came home from his ram
BILE, the officers were carrying that
brother to prison. He never opened
his lips concerning it from that day"
said Mrs Dalrvmple, with a sob IN her
voice He employed no lawyer, al
though the court appointed one; he
refused to plead guilty or not guilty. |
will hurry He was sentenced. to
death: his sentence was committed
to imprisonment for life. AS for me,
| [ would not believe it | never be-
lieved it" aey M
K Never" said Mr.. Stephen, hoarsely.
Never. [ sent Mark to procure me
admission to the prison; he came back
saving it was refused. / wro e; Mark
brought me back the letter unopened.
/ His brother, he. said, would have no
| further communication with us. & At
| length us if worn out with my imporr
tunity, Mark ,eXacted of mea pledge OF
secrecy There was no need! There
was no needl Hetold me that with his
own eyes he had seen the blow struck,
and had gotten away that he might mot
be used as evidence. But | did not be
Eeve it then | gathered all my ready
money; [ went to the prison and gave
it to the keeper, in my ignorance, think
ing it necessary TWAS the day of the
sentence. I was taken to the cell and
left. He stood up hurriedly to meet
$50 changed! So changed -Whlte
as death, but his great eyes burning
and he held out his arms tome. | walt
ed one moment, one fatal mdment.
Tell me first, / cried. oh, just say
yourself that you are Innocent His
arms fell. You toop he said, and he
folded his arms upon his breast, and
stood there, his head fallen, surveying
me from under his eyebrows. !:4ou
teep Oh, don't know what there was
in the words, but | fell upon the floor,
fainting dead away, and | never saw
him again Nothing made any differ
ence to me then Mark was very ten
der to me in those days. [ felt as if he
ought to hate the sight of me. It was
five years before | married him. |
never loved him; but he was nearer
than any one else. I should never have
married him but for messages of some
thing little short of hatred that he
brought me from prison. Why do |
tell you all this, my dears?" she said,
suddenly stopping. And MIR. Stephen
too? Only, perhaps, because you are
part of my life now-you and he-and
this life is as real to me now rs that.
That? No, that is a dream: Us the dy-
ing do not weep, SO the old do not suffer
IN RELYING the past Tits no longer-my
story; there is no sacred secrecy about
it; it is the story OF that young girl of
whom I spoke to you. Well-to go. on:
Perhaps it was because he knew did
not love him; perhaps he wearled of
me; perhaps to see me only recalled to
him his crime. We've were not hap
py together. We lived long live of
Indebtedness. Yet, being his wife, I
tried-ves, / tried-never to fail in my
duty bore with him faithfully. in
those final wears of nervous illness that
wore him to his death and nearly ruined
me. 1t was the last day that, pillowed
in his bed, his CHASTITY face like death
terminated, he told me his secret. All
his life he had lived in luxury; his table
had been sumptuous with meat and
wines: his horses had been fleet; his
bed had been of down; he had. married
the woman he loved; he had wealth,
freedom, all mems honor. His brother, =
she said, again with that dry sob, =" had
prison cot, prison fare, solitude, labor,
chains, all mems contumely apdcon-
tempt; yet, of the two, his brothers
lot had been the best: he had laineon
roses where Mark had lain on red-hot
COATS. Let grief and loss and want
have been his-he had had the proud
inward consciousness Of innocence. For
it was Mark who was the felon, who was
the murderer It was my husband who
had killed Ralph His elder brother, in
that great love of his, had taken all the
burden. and Mark had let him do it. !"
Mrs.. Dalrymple was silent. again, and
we did not disturb her. Have 1 for
given him? do not know. But with
what mad haste wrote out the state
ment,- called witnesses, read it to