The Cheyenne daily leader. [volume] (Cheyenne, Wyo.) 1870-1884, 1878-04-20
In his arms, and then of listening to the
rumble Of wheels with a dreadful. delirious

In his arms, and then of listening to the
rumble Of wheels with a dreadful. delirious
alright. At length the roaring the
whirring censed, and / heard no longer the
steady. maddening thud OF hoof-beats. the
roll of wheels, nor the hard drawn breath OF
galloping horses. There was a pause ir
the Journey n gush of balmy WIND COO
with dew and delicious with the perfume O.
flowers swept over me. i heard the muir
mur of voices, and peep'ng cautiously
tbrouoh the curtains of n closed carriage
where I found myself alone. j saw through
the dusky. yellow haze of dawn, the dismal.
iron.barred portals OF n mdG-house. On the
lark. mouldy steps OF the entrance stood
Count Beresford in n confidential confer
ence with a strange man, whose visage OF
stone and smirlS of cunning seemed to chill
my blood to ice. They turned and camc
towards the carriage. There was n cruel
the bestial front Of his companion n savage
seeming of qualification. and of obsequious-
ness also. II l had heard their words, l
could not have known more fully the i'm
port of those soft whispered sounds. My
handsome, dark-haired husband was tired
of his unrecognized wife, but coward to
the core of his false, black heart, he dared
not take the life Of the bride he despised'
and so had determined TO consiRn her &c
the keeping OF that demon visaged master
of the gibbering wretches whose shrieks anc
curses l could hear within those horrible,
iron walls. Purposely | lay like one dead
as they approached. They bore me within
the portals aud laid me upon the damp, icy
floor Of the hall, until the two-the lacke!
of crime md the lackey of the criminal
should drink to my destruction in nn ante
room near where / was lying. / could Sc"
the glitter of crystal and the CLEAN OF
amber wine and ms the uplifted glasscs
clinked rim to rim. | sprang noiselessiy tc
my feet. and fled through the yellow dusk
of the dawn. Perhaps it was instinct that
guided and guarded me on the long and
tortuous way back to this place. ! reached
the house and this room on another just
such night and hour as this. The same old
moon hung glittering over tho purple
mountain peaks. Just the same lustre oil
pink and rose and gold and sea-foam white
Law on garden md field. At that window
by tho pier-gloss yonder, | looked in and
saw my husband sitting where you sit now,
and embraced on his false bosom he held
his new wife-a brown-eyed, red-lipped grl
whom he had brought with him from over
the sea | watched them until my eyes
were scared by the sight of her sweet trust
and his diabolical treachery. She slept nj
last the soundless, unbroken sleep of in
hDNNllt blAAA Ivy aAtA . %%@A
He pushed the window sash ajar, and came
to my side where i stood among the roses.
Even ut that moment | loved him. | loved
him even when he wrenched a dagger from
his bosom and plunged it in my heart as l
wept kneeling at his feet. He did not with
draw the murderous blade, but he lifted me
in his arms and bore me TO the loot OF
the dead cracking tree behind me now, and
there, while his new bride slept, he dug a
shallow grave and tossed me in, and COW
cred ME over with the green sods of the
garden. At dawn he and his ~brown.eyed
bride were miles away on their return to
England. And there | lay ut the roots Of
the young 1.-the tree, and my dead flesh
gave strength to its branches, and my blood
gave the crimson to its bloom. But the
last red drop has been sucked out of my
dust. See I. the tree is n dead thing
only one flower remains on its topmost
bough."
The Eolian voice died away, the vapory
haze dissolved, the shadowy hands and
spectral eyes vanished, and i law only a
iclured woman 1" satin and pearl. smill' =
out Of a gilt.framed canvas shook back
my hair. and looked about me, M n warm,
tawny CLEAN of light dazzled my scorched
sense of vision. Harsh, mumbling tones
ycxed my hearing. / had been sleeping,
and my Anticipated servant was trying to
arouse my stupefied perceptions to the
brightness of n newborn day.
"Mcrcy me, miss" she cried " how
Tread lily tired you must have been last
night, TO be surei And you did not heal
the storm ? Why there has been not another
like it since / was born. The thunder was
like an army Of artillery, and the lightning
was like bursting bombs. Look at the old
tree by tho window, miss 1t is ripped up
by the roots, and every root is deaa. nId-
such n strange thing there is n not of
blossoms on the oldest and talles, % IN.
/. suppose it grew there because thu -Ich
was nearest her picture"
| stopped her loqu~nciousness, WIN, ~
strained nerves thrilled with eagerhos
g What became Of Geneva Roman ?"
| asked. "Do you remember her -
MERCY me, no." replied the wn'uin;
but my mother was her maid bcfuu, ,ie
poor lady died in the mad-house."
what made her insanep" ! imputed.
Il suppose it was the will OF Col was
the answer.
What became OF her husband ?" I
asked again.
"She never had one, miss" was the re.
Spouse.
but what has the gardener found l
should like to know"
She hobbled to one OF the windows beside
The portrait, and pushed it open. In the
glory of the golden dawn, l stepped out,
and, standing in a tangle of dew-wet roses,
looked dow upon the fallen tree with the
.uft of bloom upon one rotted and dissev-
cred limb, and upon the gnarled, lifeless
roots that had been torn out of the earth
oy the might of the midnight storm. And
I saw, embraced in that network of roots,
she slender bones of n human skeleton, and
, rusted blade, upon the hilt Of which n
Single diamond shone like u star.
No one ever identified the remains No
me ever presumed to guess how they came
there. And the mystery Of hat night is n
mystery still. Could it have been wholly n
dream Or did IN incident Of somnambu-
ism vivifcd by a morose imagination put
INTO so tragic a form the story of " Geneva
i,omaine's Fater"
xanl .aN l~,- ara iafnra ttn