The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1883-12-06
BEVERLY St. VARNAAM'S Vow.
BY ALMA l.. M'KEE.

All utUlC room WIFI Few comforts
within ia fire burning upon the
hearth, and it's light alone making OBJ
jects visible, and its Pickering flame
cau-ing the rude furniture to dance like
huge specters upon the wall-a low cot
bed upon which lay a young woman
dying, and by her side an aged nurse,
patiently waiting for the pulse to cease
its beating-all these together made a
sad picture, while the wailing wind
without sang n mournful requiem for
the soul lowering upon the brink of the
grave.
Suddenly a slow, hesitating step was
heard upon the dark stairway, and then
light knock at the door
The nurse said, shortly, "Come in!
The door softly opened and man
stepped within-a man whose appear
ance and dress seemed out of place in
that humble attic chamber.
my name is st. Varnham. i seek
one known as Mrs. Ormsby," he said,
almost in a whisper.
what is left of her lies there" said
the nurse.
The man crossed to the cot and then,
kneeling, bent over the emaciated form,
and gaZed into the thin, white face, once
so beautiful and bright
Ella! my poor Ella! do you not
know me?' he groaned rather than
said ELLA! come arouse yourself, for
have come to take you home"
There is one mightier than you be
awaitin' to take her home, and she'll go
with him afore long"
Whom mean you, woman?' fiercely
said the man.
The angel Death" was the cool re-
ply, and the strong man shuddered.
She cannot live, then ?"
"She don't want to"
But is there no hope?"
None; she won't last an hour. What
is she to you?"
Before he could answer, the eyes of
the dying woman slowly opened, and in
them was flash of recognition, while
in whisper came from her the words
"Beverly-my brother-forgive-
Ella, my poor sister, l have nothing
to forgive you.
And Arnold forgive"
Never! l vow he shall die for this,
80 help me"
BE still; she is dead"
1t was the nurse who spoke, and
Beverly st. Varnham saw the eyes
staring into his own in terror; but it
was the stare of death.
Burying his face in the pillow, Bev-
erly st. Varnham knelt for long time
in silent grief, the patient nurse still
waiting.
At length he arose, and she asked
again, What was she to you?'
"My sister-the idol of my home,
but who left me for the false man who
brought her to- this-brought disgrace
upon her and left her to die in this
fearful place; but he shall die for his
work of ruin and DEATH"
"She asked you to forgive him"
IL cannot / will not But here,
see that she is prepared for burial
will send grave clothes and an under
taker. Here is gold for you, and-but
you were kind to her, though you knew
she had nothing to repay you for your
kindness"
I'm getting old, but my heart amt
dried up yit."
"You poor old soul, in me you shall
find friend, and with me a home. 1
am rich, and L have need of house
keeper, for am bachelor, so go with
me, for l wish it"
I'll go, for this here room haint a
palace; but its been my home for years,
for i haint but little to live on.
"You shall have no reason to want in
the future"
And Beverly st. Varnham left the
room.
The following day Ella ST.
Varnham, the betrayed and deserted
girl, was borne to the home of
her childhood, lordly estate in
Southern State, and III the burial
place where were the ashes of her pa
rents was laid TO rest forever, while
two persons bent in deep sorrow above
her grave-these two were her brother
and Alice Kent, the old nurse, who,
with grief for the maiden whom she
had loved deeply, and delight at the
new home she had been brought to, was
terribly confused in her ideas.
A small group of men were assembled
together in a small opening of the
forest that fringed the river bank.
There was six in the party, and apart
from them stood two carriages, the
coachmen silent and scared looking,
for Their black faces we're ashen in
hue, and their eyes rolled nervously in
their sockets.
Presently there was a movement in
the group, and two men stood apart
from the others, and in their hands
were pistols.
One of these men the reader has seen
before, bending over the dead body of
Ella ST. Varnham, his betrayed sister;
and, as he stood there, stern, deter
mined and revengeful, he still looked
the splendid man that he was.
The other was Arnold Ormsby, also
one of natures noblemen in appear
ance, for his face was faultless in
beauty, but in heart a devil, and a
devil that lighted up his face with foul
intent to kill.
A moment of dead silence: then the
deep voice of second, and then the
sharp ring of the pistols. Arnold
Ormsby staggered back, vet seemed