Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1882-10-21
A SAD STORY.

In a quiet room, high up from
the busy street many years ago, a
strange tragedy was enacted. In
the department soft warmth diff
fused itself over the splendOrs that
rivaled an Eastern palace. The
soft carpet yielded the sound of no
football, and the warm light played
fitfully till it rested like \ halo on
the bright golden cnris and Hebe-
like form OF a woman in the pride
of her beauty. 1t was lovely face,
fair and tender as IA poets ideal.
The large blue eyes were overshad-
owed by long, yellow lashes that
lay upon the cheeks and half con-
cealed the paley-tinted underlids.
Jewels clustered in the curls and
flashed like a sheath of diamonds
from her hand. She was cold but
beautiful creature, silent as death
mOtionle>Ss as "A tenant of the grave.
Was it death
One would think that life would
never desert a creature so rich in
all its graces, so beautiful. But the
heart stood still the white, slender
wrist had no pulse. There was a
lethargy like death upon the lady
a death itself. What could il mean?
No one lived in the great house.
No sign of an inhabitant was met
within the wide corridors and state
ly halls. 1t rose from foliage that
had grown tangled and wild from
neglect, and the green grass crept
through the crevices of the flags
that wound in many a serpentine
l. hal
servants had deserted it, and high
up in back chamber, away from
the feverish noise and strife OF the
street, in the midnight hour sat the
desOlate, lifeless lady, her jewels
flashing, and her face cold but ra-
diant in the mellow gas light. The
hours wore on-the fire burned low,
and the soft, warm air was temper
ed with cold. The gas light played
mellow, but it gave no warmth to
the waXen cheek and the silent fig
ure.
Hours passed, and the door open
ed to admit a man. He came on
tiptoe, with bated breath and anx-
iOus eyes.
What did it mean?
On the table, wherean arm Of the
lady leaned, was a goblet filed with
a colOrless liquid. This he peered
into, and then at the lady.
mot dead yet ~
The words were almost breathleSs,
and the eyes had a scared and wan
dering look.
mot dead yet! How could she
have survived so long? ?"
And again his eyes sought the
colorless face, and his hand the
small tapering wrist.
mo pulse! The great heart does
not beat! She must be dead I"-
And through the yelled window
and out upon the frozen air pealed
the laugh of maniac, which smote
upon the senses with thrill OF
dread that pierced the faculties OF
the woman so still and trance-like,
and the blue eyes opened and the
regal head was raised.
"Where am I?'
"Here, alone with mel" The
man bent low and whispered saw
agely. The tone of the speaker was
a thrill of hate. 1t stung like the
sting of an adder.
"You would not XIII me?"
"Wouldn't /? You are dying
now. For days this poisoned drug
has been doing the work OF death.
"Wouldn't kill you!" he Kissed.
Look ut the heritage you rob me
of-you, the young wife of a do
tard. 1t was Il curious trick that
won you back from your foreign
travels, alone and helpless. But
it did with you, and ] have you
here!"
"Man, you would not murder
me :" and wild fear crept into
the face that burned in the dilating
eyes.
,."What have l done?"
"Robbed me of my inheritance.
sWheedled an old man into disin-
Fheriting his children"
81 did mott loved him."
"And what matters if you did
the end is all the same!"
She then tried to cry out-tried to
scream-but the torpor was on her
again, and the slowly working poi
son was freezing her faculties. 1t
was the last sign of life. Back into
the cushioned chair she sank, and
the man Quilted the room.
The tragedy was completed.
a month afterward the crime was
discovered. The woman so heart
lessly betrayed to death was the
wife of an old citizen, and his son
the murderer.
There are those living who know
the story. 1t created an excite
ment that no ordinary incident
could awaken but family influence
had power to suppress the fact. In
the rawlings of delirium the man
confessed the crime, and, although
human punishment couldn't reach
him, the madhOuse received its
victim. From lips that loved and
cherished her in life the story was
learned.
The memory of the fair young
wife is yet vivid in aged hearts,
and many a tear is shed when the
story of her life and death is told,
and her tomb in the churchyard is
a shrine where a gray-haired pill
grim goes TO weep and revive a
memory that made for an hour an
Eden of his life.
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