Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1880-07-05

en- his promise, and my unkindness was
the cause. Nothing else rang in my
ears through the long hours.
About two o'clock [ heard a noise be-
low and went to the window. There
was man on the porch l could see
him in the dim light
Tom, is that you," asked softly,
putting out my head.
"Yes; open the door, Lucy quick,
the police are after me-
My heart sank. The police after
him ! What would he have done? l ran
down swiftly and unlocked the door.
But as did SO, two men, wearing of
fetal badges, stepped upon the porch,
and one of them laid his hand on Toms
shoulder and said:
81 arrest you, sir"
"For what?" asked.
"For murder
The floor seemed sliding from beneath
my feet, but l caught at the door to
steady myself and look at Tom. At
that instant the officer uncovered his
lantern, and, oh, God there was blood
on my husbands hands.
All the rest is a blank. When l
came to myself again, l was in my room
and kind, compassionate faces were
around me. l asked for Tom. He was
in prison, awaiting his trial. There
had been quarrel at the tavern whith-
er my cruel words had driven Tom, and
Tom had struck his antagonist The
man wasn't dead, though they thought
he was at 6rst-but he was badly hurt
about the head. But if he recovered
we'll, it wouldn't go so hard with Tom.
arose and went to the prison; but
they would not admit me. No one was
to see my husband till after the trial.
Another day crept by; night; and
when morning came went down to the
door and opened it, with vague feel
ing of expectation which always accom-
panies severe afiiction, and looked out.
The sun was rising grandly and bright
ly over the black stone Jail. The frost
hung thick and sparkling over every
thing, even on the scrap of folded paper
that lay at my feet. l stopped and
picked it up idly, as we catch at straw
or twig sometimes, without any mo-
tive or power of volition. The super
scription caught my eye; it was my
own name, and my husbands handwrit-
ing. l tore it open and read:
DEAR Lucy / have broken out of Jail,
and am going-well, no matter where. !
didn't strike Hastings with an intention
to kill him. / was intoxicated and it
was more his fault than mine; but he
may die and then-at any rate, it is for
you, Lucy, for me to go. l never was
worthy of your love. Now you can GO
back to your father and forget me and be
happy. You will find the bonds for that
money 1 have in the bank in the desk; il
is enough to make you and the child com
!, Portable. Forgive and forget me, Lucy
God bless you-you and the baby.
Tom.
This was the end That was the re.
ward that my cross word had purchased
for me. Truly, truly, the wages of sir
are death. We shall not need one pang
of corporal punishment, one spark o.
real fire, to perfect our torment if We
, are lost. Conscience is all sufficient
remorse that worm that never dies. Il
7 is not for me to attempt to talk abou
what | suffered in the days that follow
| ed that morning. Words could not ex
press it, save to one that has passed
through the same furnace of aff1iction
, But lived, for sorrow and death rarel,
} walk in each others steps, and nurseC
my baby, and did the work my hand
t had to do. | did not 60 back to m,
, father. l remained at Toms home, ant
kept his things all about me, even hi
E cap hanging on the wall. Forget him
3 Does love ever forget?
| Hastings did not die. He recovered
t and made public statement. He wa
| more in the fault than Tom was. The
he put notice in all the papers, tel
ling Tom to come back; but he did no
D come.
t The winter passed away with long
long nights of bitter remorse, and ten
a der recollections of the dear husban
e whose strong arms had once been m
stay and support; the spring came-th
0 summer-another winter; three year
u went by-crept by.
r My child, Toms little baby, grew t
be fairy little thing, with blue eye
n and golden hair and tongue that neve
e wearied of its childish prattling. Al
d day long she sat on the door step, wher
I? the evening sunbeams slanted in, LISP
y ing to her doll and listening, while
d told her of the father who would com
back to us some day. For surely h
/ would come. Most surely Gods mere
y would vouchsafe some compensation
1t some pardon for such repentance as m
l soul had poured fourth.
IS The third Spring was peculiar; some
% how the far-off sky semed to drnn dow