Buchanan County bulletin. [volume] (Independence, Iowa) 1869-1891, 1878-11-29

I am sorry to tell you that the bank in whicl
your money-the gift from your mother-wa
keep it from you until could replace thu
amount, but all such dreams are over.
'Berenice, forget me if you will, and for
give me that l loved you-not wisely, but too
well. FREDERICK
This was the letter. grandma went
on, which came to Bernice that Thanks
giving morning. She read it through
with wide, stony eyes, Send the twins
to my mother, she repeated, in husky
whisper; he bids me send them to his
mother! He has not taken them, then!
Who has? Oh, merciful Heaven! where
are my children?
:" She asked the question in vain; she
searched in vain through all the weary
weeks and months that followed; not a
sign, not a clew, not the faintest trace
could she find to her lost babes They
had vanished as strangely as if by the
agency of some unearthly power; and
she did not receive a line to tell bel
in what strange land their father wan
dered. Poor Berenice, her punishment
had followed swift upon her sin!
Five years went by" continued
grandma, setting her dainty feet on the
fender, the diamond buckles blazing in
the freight; five dreary, endless years
and not one word, in all this time, had
Berenice heard of her husband or chill
dren.
oh. grandma five years."
| Five years, my dears-a long time;
but she lived through it, hoping and
waiting and watching in vain. She
had returned to her native city; her
mother had died, and Berenice lived
alone with single servant. The wealth
she had so coveted in her girlhood was
at her command now; her uncle had
died, and left her handsome fortune.
What, alas! did it avail her? She would
have resigned it all, and toiled for her
daily bread, to buy back one hour of
the vanished days when she had her
husband and her babies.
One wintry afternoon, as she sat
alone by her tireside, dreaming of the
past, her servant brought up note and
stated that the bearer waited in a car
riage below
Berenice tore it open and found a
single line. If you would hear of your
children, come to me at once.
She went without an instants delay.
through the storm, to distant part of
the town, and, when she aligh ted, up the
steps of large, gloomy dwelling.
In a dimly-lighted room an old man
lay dying. One glance at his rigid face,
and Berenice knew him; he was her
Midas of old, the lover with whom she
had broken faith so many years before,
Z W hon bn nhnca 10 for 1o1,n
er than wealth.
He looked up at her as she drew
near his pillow, his sunken eyes glitter
ing with wicked triumph.
You know me, beautiful Berenice?
All, | see you do! But you never
dreamed it was my hand that robbed
you of your children? did it, |
swore to have my revenge when you
played me false and married beggar,
and | kept my oath-I stole your twin
babes!
Where are they? Oh, in Heaven s
name | implore you to tell me, prayed
Berenice. If you only could know
what | have suffered
His shrill laughter interrupted her.
Suffered Didn't | suffer too?
The old may love as well as the young.
| loved you, Berenice, and you had no
pity for me- Now | will have none for
you. | stole your children, but until
your dying day you will never know
what was their fate, whether they lived
or died. | tell you you shall never
know! | hold the secret, and | am dy-
ing; it shall die with me. All! All! my
revenge is sweet! But my beautiful
Berenice, he went ON, for the sake of
the past and the fond love l bore you, |
have made you my heir; when die, all
my wealth is yours. You always COW
eted gold, you know, Berenice; take it,
now, to your hearts content-hug it to
your breast-let it fill the place of your
/ lost babes!
1t was in vain that Berenice implor-
ed and cntreated. The old man grew
frantic, and in few hours he died. his
lips shut close, the secret of her lost
babes untold.
And she was his heir All his
wealth of houses and lands and chink-
ing gold he had willed to Berenice.
Her punishment was truly greater
than she could bear.
Two years were added to the five
She had done all that woman could do
but no tidings had come to her of hus-
band or children. She was alone with
her great wealth.
d" Two years, and Thanksgiving day
dawned upon Berenice in the great city
of London. Hcart-sick and desolate
! she wandered out for walk
''The yellow fog choked her, the winds
beat her back, the motley crowd jostled
her: but she kept on. Her heart lay
like lead in her bosom, dreary, half
formed idea in her half f-maddened brain
that she would wander on to the yellow
river and end her troubles, as so many
wretched creatures had done before her
Il say, Tom, look at that window
Don't it make your mouth water? lisped
a child's sweet voice.
1 Something in the voice went to Bere
nice's heart. She turned and looked a,
the little pair before the window-two
children, a boy and a girl, clad in rags
I their little faces wan with want and blue
with cold
See the jam-tarts, said the boy ant
oh! Nan, look at them hot cakes!-
Wouldn't one of EN- go down nice?
''Bercnice choked with tears as she
drew out her purse.
Come, my dears, she said, taking &
hand of each; come in with me and yol
shall have all you want
''They followed her in wide-eyed won
der, but at the counter the boy drew
back.
Think of granny, Nan, he said; ther
turning to Berenice, he continued, please
ma am, we'll do without the goodies, il
you'll give us a shilling for granny
She's dying, granny is, and there's NJ
fire nor penny to buy her a loaf
you shall have the goodies, and thel
I'll 60 with you and see about granny
said Berenice, something in the boys
frank, fearless eyes making her hear
thrill with absolute pain.
She bought great bundle, and fillet
their eager hands, and then they set ou'
through the yellow fog to see abou
granny.
They found her in a miserable attic
on bed OF straw; an old, shriveleC
creature, with racking cough.
That's granny, said Tom, as they en-
tered the room; then he darted to th'
bed. say, granny, we've had luck thi
time; we've fetched fine lady to SCI
you.
And she's brought lots O good things
| Il, -. l...1o NJ,