The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1877-08-14
selfrf Story.
JOHN VAN DELEUR.
by MRS, E BURKE COLLINS.

incense from It's snowy censor, swung by
unseen fairy bands. The night in all Its
perfection lay gloriously fair, unmarried
by any sound to break the perfect out.
lines of the picture, save the musical
voices of the insect world, and the oeca.
sional cry of a. whippoorwill in the
neighboriug forest. sH
We. stood together beneath wide
spreading magnolia tree--John Vande-
leur and l The moonlight glinted on
his stern, white face; his dark eyes were
bent upon my own; both his hands
grasped mine-grasping them with the
eagerness of despair.
"Jessie," he said, at length breaking
the silence that lay between US two, 81
am going away tomorrow
/ felt my heart bourd madly. and then
stand still, with underlined terror. We
had been so happy in all that long ,dreary
summer, away from the noise and din OF
the world, shut in by fine forests, and
green banked lakes and waving verdure.
1t had been like beautiful idyl, and
like all such episodes, had to end some
time But it was a hard lesson that |
had learned in the interim. / knew that
during those few short weeks | had learn.
ed to love John Vandeleur; and I knew,
also, by look and tone, and the caress
ing manner, which stood instead of
speech, that he loved me- But l felt
that a shadow stood between us-a dark,
impenetrable shadow did not know
how impenetrable until that night when,
out in the pale faced moonlight,w we stood
beneath the magnolia trees.
l saw him gasp for breath as his eyes
met the look of pain in mine; he trem-
bled violently, and dropped my hands
with passionate gesture.
"Jessie!" he cried suddenly, facing
me in desperation, "you love me, and l
-oh, God! / love you SO! Aud yet
/ am going 20 break your heart".
He laughed bitter, hollow laugh
then hastened on:
"Ths summer has been dream OF
Heaven TO me; wild, hasheesh dream.
In which such wretches as / ought never
be permitted to indulge. All, well, it is
over now! Jessie, say that you love me
-once-just oncer 1lE}84F 81
/ looked into his dark, fad eyes.
81 dow answered firmly.
Aye, come what might, that was true,
and earnest, and unalterable He threw
both arms around me, and drawing me
closer to him pressed one kiss upon my
lips. No one else has ever kissed them ;
no one else ever shall.
"Can you bear to hear my story to.
uight?t he asked, as | loosened the
clinging arms, and stood before him, try
ing hard to calm the wild, tumultuous
throbbing of nv heart because" he
continued "you must know it; and Ii
shall go away to morrow"
81 can t bear it" f as
My voice sounded far away and faint.
He pushed the dark hair from his fore
head, and turning his face away from
my eyes, leaned against the magnolia
tree.
"Five years age" "-he began, in cold,
dreary tone, "while travelling in Europe,
I met the woman who has ruined my
whole life. / cannot tell you how she
entangled me in her meshes, throwing
the net around me with consummate art
snd skill suffice it that she succeeded in
her schemes, and / was bound to her
hody and soul, in chains of CALLING IRON
You cannot imagine what my life has
been since then, until a few months ago,
when | received a letter from a foreign
land telling me that she was dead, and
was free Then l met you, and our
friendship grew and ripened every hour
into something that can never die To
day, JESSIE" he paused, and clencheo
his hands fiercely together, "to.day | re
ceived letter from her, this woman, ms
vife! do you understand telling me
that the report of her death was mis-
take, and she is now on her way to this
country to join me.
"Ah, God! you cannot dream of thu
agony that has been mine since then!
am wild with anguish and despair; i
seems as if / should go mad or die"
He paused, and once more turned hii
eyes toward me- The moonlight wa:
pallid on his face, and showed the dread
ful suffering which was his I did no
speak; had no words; who coulc
speak at such time? 'p
| "Jessie," he went on brokenly, "while
she-that woman-lives, / am fetteret
with heavy chains. l cannot appeal tt
the law for my freedom; for, vile as sh
lis, she operates within its pales, and jus
tice cannot reach her. There is no hope
lJessie, none; we must bear our heav,
burden as patiently as possible .remem
iberiug that life must end some time"
Then he drew me to him for mo
ment, and gazed silently into my eyes
tno word passed his lips; he pressed m
hands convulsively to his heart, and the
turning strobe away in the moonligh,
and saw him no more.
All that night knelt at my windov
with my head upon the sill, in franc
of woe and agony; when the mornin
came arosesfrom my knees and throw
ing myself upon the bed slept from shee
exhaueiion.
A few weeks later, in company wit
my mother (she was all / had in th
Z world, J. | started for Europe. i hope
in other lands, and amid new and chan!
ing scenes, to find some surcease to m
sorrow. did not know then how har
it is 10 rid ones self of haunting grie
for sorrow follows, like gaunt specie
whitbersoever your footsteps tend;
stalks by your side, and Graves admi
tance to your hearth. and will not be d
MED.
We were on the sea at last-the bea
tiful, smiling, treacherous sea, so cal
> and blue and peaceful above, but wi
such depths OF woe and despair with
Its bosom, when the white faces turn u
9 ward To the light, and the sea moss Ia