The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1884-12-05

rose to make his commencement speech.
He, the aristocrat of his class, had chos.
en- to speak Against Caste and
though he spoke with the enthusiasm
of an untreid man, it was with devoted
honesty of purpose, of which his earn
estness was witness. and Of which his
future was to give ample proof.
Through the bewilderment of applause
that greeted him as he finished he saw
only the glad, smiling face of Alice
Wentworth nodding approval; of the
rest, hundreds though they we're he
saw nothing. Her congratulation was
enough.
Then came tender scenes, and Alice
Wentworth was to be his wife. Another
change, and he is in the midst of ruder
scenes. There is war, civil war, andha
is q soldier; once more he seems to be
in Virginia, and there are marches and
counter-marches, camps and barracks,
battles and retreats, and all the great
and little miseries of long campaigns.
The silver leaflets of q major are ex-
changed for the golden eagles Of q col
onel, and all the time, amid sterner du.
ties, he finds time to write to Alice
Wentworth, and never a mail comes in.
to camp but he is sure of letters dated
Home" and full of words that make
him hopeful and brave.
Negro troops are raised, and, true tc
his principles and to himself, he re.
4, signs his commission to take q lower
rank in a colored regiment. Now the
scenes grow dim; confused sounds fa1
off disturb him: low music, familiar YET
strange, TO- distant, now at his very
ear, attracts him; a wierd, shadowy
mist encloses him, concealing even the
things which were visible to the minds
eye, and memory and thought have ell
most ceased. Thus he feels himself
drifting away-drifting away like a boat
that has broken its moo,ings and drifts
out with the ebbing tide-whither?
But the rich, warm, lnsty blood of the
African quickly does its work. The
heart, which had almost ceased to beat,
because there was not blood enough for
it to contract upon, reacted to the slim
illus, and rs it revived and sent the new
life pulsating through all the body, tie
whole man revived. Fournier, under
n pretext or another, but really by
force of his relentless will, kept his VIC
tim by him for years after their escape
from the south. He noted from time TIC
time certain curious changes that took
placein his physical nature, and record
ed his observations with scientific pre-
cision in a book kept for the purpose,
for the renewal of life had entailed re-
suits of an extraordinary character, as
the reader may have already anticipa-
ted. At length he wrote: "My hy-
pothesis is verified: it has become a
theory. My theory is proved; it is a
| physiological law. Climatic influences,
acting upon man, bring about physical
changes exceedingly slowly, because
they are resisted by an inveterate habit
of assimilation which pertains to the
blood"
That day Shirley was free. His res
cuer had finished his experiment..
Alice Wentworth had never believed
that her lover was dead. She had
heard all with a troubled heart, but
while his distant kinsmen, who were
eirs-at-law, put on the deepest mourn
ing and grew impatient of the laws de-
lay, she simply said, II will wait until
there is some proof before 1 give him
up" And in her heart she said, "He is
not dead" Even when years had pass
ed and the war was over, and her agent
had searched everywhere and found no
trace Of him, she did not cease to hope
that he would yet appear. So, when
at length a letter came, it was welcome
and expected. Not surprise but joy
made her start and tremblc as the old
familiar s1perscription met her eyes.
Such a letter!-flled with the spirit
of his love, breathing in every word the
tender, passionate devotion of an earlier
day, and yet so sad. Tears dropped
down through her smiles of Joy and
blurred the lines she read at first, but
smiles and tears ceased as she read on.
he had written many, many times, but
he knew she had not got his letters. He
had been a prisoner-not only prisoner
of war, but afterward prisoner to u man
whose will was iron. It could hardly
be explained. This man had not only
saved his life, but he had also rescued
him from the horrors of a southern pris-
on-would God he had let him die!-
and they had been living together in q
ranch in a far-of Mexican valley.
Then the letter read on:
"In my heart I am unchanged; my
love for you is ever the same; yet I am
no longer the Robert Shirley whom you
knew. That has come upon me which
will separate nj from you for ever; !
can not ask you now to be my wife.
You are free. 1t is through no fault OF
mine. It is my burden, the price Of
life, and Unjust bear it. God bless YOU
and give you all happiness!
ROBERT SHIRLEY"
When she had read it all she bowed
her head and wept again, and the face
that had grown more and more beauti-
ful with the years OF waiting was radi-
ant. Who a fathom the depth of a
woman's love? Who can follow the
subtle workings of a woman's thoughts ?
Who can comprehend a woman's bound
less faith? Her course was clear. Ii
misfortune had befallen him, if lie
Were manned, disfgured, crazed, aver
if he were loathsome to her eyes, she
loved him, and she must see him; she
would see him and speak to him, and
love him still, ven if she could not be
his wife. What would she have done
If she could have guessed the truth?
As it was, she wrote upon her card, "If
you love me com to me-" and sent it to
him. And in answer to the summons
he stood before her-not disfigured, not
MANNED, not crazed, not lothsome in
any way, yet %irrevocably separated
from her, for DIR. Fournier's expert
ment had succeeded, and Robert Shir.
ley was a mulatto!