Macon beacon. [volume] (Macon, Miss.) 1859-1995, 1878-08-17

the states. / chanCed 10 mention my
name.
"We've got a namesake of yours in
camp" said one fellow
"Have your / said carelessly. at
isn't common name"
"No, and that's where it's odd" said
he; besides, you somehow remind me of
him, though you're much older than he.
By the way, there he comes"
/ turned-something, knew not what,
shot through me. ] rose, and knew my
brother
My heart gave one bound. | forgot
my wrongs. saw only my dear other
self, the companion of my boyhood, I
sprsng forward.
"Robert dear old boy is it you?"
He looked at me eagerly-incredu-
lousy.
Ralph it can't be you"
"It is" | cried; snd--well, / don't
know as / am ashamed of it--I embraced
him like school girl, and wept.
And 30 did he, poor fellow, though he
could hardly believe the wrecked old
man was his brother.
But what struck me, even then, as
strange he did not shrink from me, nor
act as though he had injured me.
"Robert," l said, when we were alone
and calmer, Owe forgiven you long ago.
We won't speak OF the past. Let me
only be happy in the bliss OF seeing you
ence more. I'll never come around to
trouble you"
"Forgive me-" he said inquiringly.
W don't understand. You'll never
trouble me and we'll not speak OF the
past? Why didn't you write to us,
Ralph2 Your poor wife"
Don't speak of herr" cried in sud.
den agony. 81 can bear anything else
spare me that"
"But, Ralph, there's something very
strange here, Why didn't you let US
hear from you? Why can't l speak OF
her? Since you are not dead--as we
supposed-why did you desert herr"
desert her! My God~ and | fairly
laughed.
Ahorriblelaugh, I dare say, for Robert
turned pale. ! could see he thought |
was mad. resolved to control mvself,
and since We must have it out, talk it
over. So after turn or two, ] came
back and stood by him Gnce more.
'Now, Robert, il there is any mistake
here, let US understand it at once. ] left
you, twenty years ago, in charge of my
wife, in San Francisco"
You did, and L"
" And you" interrupted, "took good
care OF her, and did not hear from me :;
and she grew tired of waiting and loving
a shadow aud you-and YOU loved
her!
Holdn he shouted, his eyes blazing.
" VINO told you that infamous lie %
" And she,' | went on, not needing
him, she grew faint and tired; she saw
your love and she he-returned it,
Robert seized my arm as though he
would murder me, but went on coolly:
"Hush till have done. When you
received the money | sent, you were too
far gone to 90 back She got divorce; !;
you married her and left the city. l
don't blame you"
"And you you've believed this for
twenty years?' he said, calmly, now,
though it was the calmness of a smoth-
cred volcano.
al have"
"You have for twenty long years be-
lieved that your wife and brother were
infamously false to you ?"
81 have"
"Then, " hear me, Ralph, while swear
and his form seemed fairly to dilate
and grow grand, as he said-soiemnly,
The whole story is most infamous
falsehood Your wife is as true 20 you
to-day as she was the day you left her.
twenty years ago"
"What do you mean ?n l cried, franr
tically, overwhelmed by his manner and
his words.
"What do l say, Ralph? ?" Oh there
has been some great mistake Hear my
story. After you left us, ! struggled on
with the business, though not succeed
ing very well. Susy dropped at first but
soon grew cheerful and began to plan for
your return"
These words brought the dear little
creature so plain before my eyes, that |
sank to the ground and covered my face.
CAS- weeks and months and years
passed on" he went en- slowly, cher
cheeks grew thin and pale, and hungry
look came into her eyes. saw she was
pining, and wrote letter after you, but
no word could we hear. There came to
me in little envelope, directed to both
of us, a draft of five thousand dollars,
with not word to tell how or from
whom it came. OF course we knew it
was from you, but whether gift or legacy,
who could tell?
We instituted new inquiries. Moth
ing that love could suggest was left un-
done. At last we were forced to con-
clude you were dead. By my advice
the money was invested in small farm
some distance from San Francisco, and
Susy went to live on it, while started
out ON a sort OF vagabond, wandering
life, in hopes at least to find your grave,
for we never believed you were alive
these long years, and never let us hear.
That lie | have lived for fifteen years,
returning once in three or four years to
see to tine comfort of Susy and now |
find you--"
You find me-" | interrupted, "a
wreck--a miserable wretch, who has
blasted three lives by his criminal weak
ness, his childish credulity in believing
evil, and who will soon rid the earth OF
his presence" and | started to go, for
despair had seized upon me.
That | should have believed that hor-
ror for so many years, and tiud it y
stupid mistake; that | should have
thrown away my lie, the blessed love
of my true wife, the warm affection of
nv brother, for an idle scandal. 1t was
Etoo much to endure.
Robert laid a OBTAINING handson my
arm.
"But Susy, Ralph what shall | say
to the loving woman who has suffered so
much for you ~
Let her still believe me dead" said
gloomily.
"Nay, brother; let me rather restore
you to her, Ralph, 20 home, aud let us
be so happy together as to partly make
up for these years of mistakes and error
and grief"
Well, he persuaded me, and soon was
eager enough myself Now the gold |
had despised WAS valuable, as it could
add to Susy's comfort 7 gathered itup,
r.