Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1885-05-15

We walked as in dream, from which
we were only recalled by the sight Of
houses and people.
..PaulineiH | whispered. lean YOU
leave this place tonight We will go
| to London
..And afterwardsn she asked. visit
| fully.
Can you ask me9 To Italy. of
course
She thanked me with look and pre-
sure of the hand. We were now at her
home. she left me, passing Priscilla.
whose honest eyes We're now glowering
at me. Priscilla had called me a fool;
must be revenged.
Priscilla. said, gravely, 4 am
going by this evenings coach. L will
write when l get to London
had my revenge in full. The good
old soul almost fell weeping at my feet
'-Oh, Master Gilbert, don tee, don tee
60, sir, That poor young lady. Miss
Pauline, what viii she do? She loves
the very ground you tread upon"
had bargained for reproacheS, not
sentiment of this kind laid nv hand
upon her shoulder.
But Priscilla, Miss Pauline-Mrs.
Vaughan, my wife, goes with me-.
Priscilla's tears came more copiously
than before, but they were tears of joy.
Ten days later and Pauline stood be-
side her brothers grave. BY her own
wish she visited it alone. waited at
the gate of the cemetery until she re
Joined me. Her face was very pale, her
eyes showed traces of many tears. but she
; smiled as she met my anxious glance.
Gilbert, my husband" she said.
Il have wept, but now l smile. The
past is past. Let its darkness be dis
persed by the brightness of the present
and the promise of the future. Let the
love l bore my brother be carried into
the greater love l give my husband.
Let us turn our backs on the dark shad-
ows and begin our lives.
HayeI more to tell? One thing only.
Years afterward l was in Paris. The
great war had been fought out to the
bitter end. Traces of the conflict be-
tween the two races had almost van
ished, but those of the second and inter
necine contest were visible everywhere
The Gaul himself had destroyed what
the Teuton spared. The Tuileries, with
sightless, empty eyes, gazed sadly to-
ward the Place de Ia Concorde, where
stood the statues of the fair lost prov
inces. The Vendome column lay pros
trate. The fair city was charred and
blackened by the incendiary torches of
her own sons; but the flames had been
some time extinguished and ample re-
venge had been taken. A gay yo,SSg
officer, friend of mine, took me to See
military prison. We were chatting
and smoking in the open air when a
small body of soldiers appeared. They
were escorting three men, who walked
with fettered hands and bowed heads,
"Who are tAey?" l asked
''Blackguard Communists.
Where are they taking them?''
The Frenchman shrugged his shout
ders. where they ought all to be
taken-to be shot, the brutes!''
Brutes or not, three men who have
but minute to live must be objects of
interest if not sympathy. Hooked close
ly at them as they passed us. One of
them raised his head and stared me in
the face. 1t was Macari!
/ started as his eyes met mine, but
am not ashamed to say the movement
was caused by no feeling of compassion.
Ceneri, in spite of myself, pitied, and
would have aided had it been possible,
but this ruffian, liar and traitor should
have gone to his doom even if | could
have saved him by lifting finger. He
had passed long ago out of my life, but
my blood still boiled when l thought of
him and his crimes. | knew not how
he had lived since last saw him-knew
not whom or how many he had be-
| trayed; but if Justice had been slow in
claiming him, her sword had at last
reached him and his end was close at
hand.
He knew me-perhaps he thought I
had come there to gloat over his pun
ishment. A look of bitter hate crossed
his face. He stopped and cursed me.
his head and cursed me until one of the
soldiers smote him in the mouth. The
action may have been cruel, but there
was little mercy shown to Communists
in those days. The guard and their
prisoners turned round an angle of the
building.
Shall we see the endP" said my
friend, Tipping the ash off his cigar.
mo, thank YOU"
But we heard it. In ten minutes the
rattle of rifles sounded, and l knew
that the last and guiltiest of Anthony
March murdererS had found his de-
serts.
remembered my promise to Ceneri.
With great trouble | managed to get a
message sent which | believed would
reach him. Six months afterward a
letter stamped with hieroglyphical post
marks, was delivered to me. 1t told
me that the prisoner to whom l had
written had died two years after his ar
rival at the mines. So the lesser Grim
inal had not the satisfaction of knowing
the fate of the man who had betrayed
him.
My tale is told. My life and Pauline's
began when we turned from that ceme
terry and resolved to forget the past.
Since then our joys and griefs have
been the same as those of thousands.
As write this in my happy country
house, blessed with wife and children,
/ wonder if l could ever have been that
blind man who heard those fearful
sounds and who saw afterward that ter
rible sight Could it have been who
rushed from one end of Europe to
the other to set at rest doubt which
blush at even harboring? Could it
have been Pauline, whose eyes now
shine with love and intelligence, who
lay for months even years, with the
sweet bells of her intellect tangled and
out of tune?
Yes, it must be so; for she has read
every line l have written, and as We
peruse and revise this last page her
arm steals round me, and she says, in
sisting that / shall record her utter
ance:
Too much, too much of me, my
husband, not enough of what you did
and have always done for mel"
With this, the only difference of
opinion that exists between us, my tale
may end.