The weekly register. [volume] (Point Pleasant, Va. [W. Va.]) 1862-1909, 1880-07-07

Vstp ~ y cledll sii ~ dtln nlyse1L I'LL
smiles TO receive him when the clock
struck one. Bat hedidn't come.
lpGt up the untasted dinner and
prepared supper, aud lit a,brigbt fire
50 the littls parlor.; He should have
q pleasant Welcome. Eight, nine,
ten o'clock, andI put upthe untasted
supper and baby and went to the
narsety to wait and watch. How
the little thorn in my heart pierced
.andsrankled. Tom had broken his
promise and my unkindness was the
catisel Nothing else rang in my ears
through the long houfsss
hoat 2 qrloes j heard { Sags
low and went 70 the window. There
was man on the porch; Icould see
him in the dim light.
"Tom, is that yot?" I asked softly,
putting out my head.
Yes; open the door, Lucy; quick,
the police are after me-"
My heart sank. Tbs police after
him! What could he have done? j
ran down swiftly and unlocked the
door. But as | did so two men, wear
ing official badges stepped upon the
porch, and one Of themlaid his hands
on TOMS shoulder and said
q arrest you, sir"
"For what?" | cried.
"ITor murder.ns
The floor seemed sliding from be-
meath my feet, and ] caught at the
door to steady myself and looked at
Tom. AT that instant the officer un.
covered his lantern, and oh, God
there was blood on my husbands
hands.
All the rest is blank. When
came to myself again, l was in my
room, and kind, compassionate faces
were around me. / asked for Tom.
He was in prison awaiting his trial.
There had been a quarrel at the tay.
ern, and Tom had struck his antag.
onist. The man wasn't dead, though
they thought he was at first but ne
was badly hurt about the head. But
ifhe recovered-well, it would not
go so hard with Tom.
i arose and went tQthe prison; but
they would. not admit me. Noone
was to see my husband till after the
-ssiisdt Ahother-day creptbs5 a night,
and when morning came / went
down to the door and opened it, with
4 vague feeling Of expectation which
alwaysaccompanies severeafllictions,
and looked out. The sun was rising
grandly and brightly over the black
stone Jail. The frost hung thick aud
sparkling over everything, even on
the scrap of folded paper that lay at
my feet. stopped and picked it up
idly, as We catch at a straw or twig
sometimes, without any motive or
power of volition. The superscrip.
tion caught my eye; it was my own
name, and my husbands hand writ
ing. Ftore it open and read:
DEAR LucY-I have broken out u
Jail and am going-well, no matter
where. 1didn't strike HasLingswith
an intention 10 kill him | was in.
toxicated, and it was more his fault
than mine; but he may die, and then
-at any rate, il is best foryou, Lucy,
for me to go. / 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 have in the bank in the
desk; it is enough to make you and
the child comfortable. Forgive and
forget me, Lucy. God bless yon-you
and the baby. ToM.n
This was the end! This was the
reward that my cross word had pur-
chased for mel Truly, truly, the
wages of sin is death, We shall not
need one pang of corporal punish.
ment, one spark Of real fire, to per-
feet our torment if we are lost Con-
science is all-suilicient- remorse, that
worm that never dies. 1t is not for
me to talk about what | suffered in
the days that followed that morning.
Words could not express it, save to
one who had passed through the
same furnace of afIliction. But l
lived, for sorrow and death rarely
walk in each others steps, and nurs-
ed my baby, and did not go back to
my father. l remained ut Toms
home and kent his thinus all about