The Wellington enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 1867-188?, 1884-10-29
CALLED BACK.
A Wen-Told Story Of Continuous
end Absorbing Interest.
By HUGH CONWAY.
CHAPTER /.

have reason for writing this tale,
or it would not become public property.
Once, in moment of confidence. |
made friend acquainted with some
curious circumstances connected with
one period of my life. believe | asked
him to hold his tongue about them-he
says not Any way, he told another
friend, with embellishments | suspect;
this friend told another, and so on and
on. What the tale grew to at last /
shall probably never learn; but since |
was weak enough to trust my private
affairs to another have been looked
upon by my neighbors as man with
history--one who has romance hidden
away beneath an outwardly prosaic
life.
For myself | should not trouble about
this. | should laugh at the garbled
versions of my story set floating about
by my own indiscretion. 1t would mat
ter little TO me that one good friend
has an idea that was once Commu-
mist and member Of the inner circle OF
q secret society--that another has heard
that / have been tried on capital
charge-that another knows l was at
one time Roman Catholic, on whose
behalf special miracle was performed.
il were alone in the world and young.
] dare say 1 should take no steps to still
these idle rumors. Indeed, very young,
men feel Gattered by being made objects
Of curiosity and speculation.
But l am not very young, nor am /
alone. There is one who Is dearer TO
me than life itself. One from whose
heart, am glad to say, every shadow
left by the past Is rapidly fading one
who only wishes to live her true sweet
life without mystery or concealment
wishes to be thought neither better nor
worse than she really Is. 1t Is she who
shrinks from the strange and absurd
reports that are flying about as TO our
antecedents--she who is vexed by those
leading questions sometimes asked by
inquistive friends; and II Is for her
sake that look up old journals, call
back old memories Of joy and grief, and
tell every one who cares TO read all he
can possibly wish to know, and, ii may
be, more than he has right to know.
of our lives. This done, my lips are
sealed forever on the subject. My tale
is here let the inquisitive take his
answer from il. not from me.
Perhaps, after all. l write this for
my own sake as we'll. also bate
mysteries. One mystery which have
never been able to determine may have
given me dislike to everything which
will not admit of an easy explanation
To begin, | must 60 back more years
than / care TO enumerate; although |
could, II necessary, fix the day and the
year. | was young, just past twenty
live. was rich, having when ] came
of age succeeded to an income Of about
two thousand year; an income
which, being drawn from the funds,
was able to enjoy without responsible
ties or anxiety as 10 its stability and
endurance. Although since my twen-
ty-lirst birthday had been my own
master. had no extravagant follies TO
weigh me down, no debts to hamper
me. ] was without bodily ache or
pain; yet / turned again and again on
my pillow and said that my life for the
future would be little more than curse
to me.
Had death Just robbed me Of one
who was dear TO meP No; the only
ones ! had ever loved, my father and
my mother, had died years ago. Were
my rawlings those peculiar TO an un-
happy loverP No; my eyes had not yet
looked with passion into a woman's s
eyes-and now would never do so.
Neither death nor love made my lot
seem the most miserable in the world.
was young, rich, free as the wind
TO follow my own devices. / could
leave England tomorrow and visit the
most beautiful places on the earth;
those places 1 had longed and deter
mined to see. Now, | knew should
never see them, and | groaned in an
guish at the thought.
My limbs were strong. could bear
fatigue and exposure. ! could hold my
own with the best walkers and the
swiftest runners. The chase, the sport,
the trial Of endurance had never been
too long or too arduous for me. !
passed my left hand over my right arm
and felt the muscles firm as Of old.
Yet l was as helpless as Samson In his
captivity.
For, even as Samson, was blindl