Springfield globe-republic. (Springfield, Ohio) 1884-1887, 1885-03-08
THE GLOBE REPUBLIC. SUNDAY MORNING, MARCH 1885

. 1000
much stronger ana Digger than WAS MI
| pistol was loaded.
He came. l saw him in the moonlight
l stood up as he came near and, God forgive
me, pulled the trigger, and shot him through
the heart. He fell like stone, and knew
was murderer.
"Oh, if could would have undone the
deedl stood for long time before dared
to go to the body and steal the things fol
which l had committed the crime. Then
nerved myself and went to take the price
for which, unless God is merciful, had sold
my soul.
Il never took farthing. Just as l was
about to begin heard the sound Of feet. I
looked up, and saw woman or spirit
coming to me. / dropped the pistol In ter
rOr. l felt sure she saw me. l looked at
her under the moon. Her face was white,
her lips were moving, her hair was all fly
ing about. She came straight to where the
dead man lay, then stopped and wrung her
hands. fled away in deadly fear. l ran
across several fields. dared not stop. |
thought that spirit or ghost was following
me.
Il ran on until the snow began. l must
have died in that snOw-StOrm if had not
found half-rOOfed cowshed. l crept into
this, and lay all the night and part of the
next day. / was the most wretched being
In the world.
Hunger at last drove me out l goi
through the snow somehow and reached a
house, where the people saved me from dy
ing OF starvation. But nothing could make
ME go again to the spot where had done
the murder. Nv life since then has been
one of agony. Even now that l am going
to be hanged am happier than have felt
for months. May God forgive my crime!
a pleaded guilty at the trial because
turned round In the dock, and saw the wo-
man l thought was spirit standing uI
ready to denounce me to the Judge. knew
that she saw me that night, and Twas bound
to be found guilty.
Il have confessed all. Every word Of this
is truth. As hope for mercy, 1t is all true
WILLIAM EVANS"
''P. 81 took the above confession down
from the prisoners dictation. 1t should be
all you want. The man seems thoroughly
peni;ent, but do not trouble you with his
Il remain, dear sir, yours faithfully,
STEPHEN CRISP"
We read the last lines; the paper fiuttered
down from our hands; we turned to each
other Tears OF deep thankfulness were in
my wife's sweet eyes. Down to the smallest
detail, the wretched mans confession made
everything clear. Nothing was left unex.
planned, except, perhaps, the motive which
induced Philippa to 90 that night to meet
her would-be betrayer once more. This we
shall never know, but her temporary mad
ness may amply account for it. We need
seek no further; the faintest doubt as to her
own perfect innocence is removed from my
wife's mind. Hand in hand, h--rt to heart,
lip to lip, we can stand, and feel that our
troubles are at last over.
Our troubles over! Shall those words be
the last write? No, one scene more-the
scene that lies before me even now.
An English home. Outside, green shaven
lawns, trim paths, and fine old trees. In
side, the comfort and the peace which make
an English home the sweetest in the world.
For when the need was gone; when sunny
Spain no longer was for us the one safe
land, its charms diminished, and we pined
to see once more England's fair fields and
ruddy honest faces. So back we came, and
made ourselves a home, far, far away from
every spot the sight Of which might wake
sad thoughts. And here we live, and shall
live till that hour when one Of us must kiss
the others clay-cold brow, and know that
death has parted those whom naught but
death could part.
Look out; look through this shaded win
dow. There she sits, my wife; a tall son at
her side, fair daughters near her. Years,
many years have passed, but left no lines
upon her brow; brought no white threads to
streak that raven hair. The rich bright
beauty of the girl is still her own. p me,
now as of yore, the sweetest, fairest woman
In the world!
The children see me as l gaze with
thoughtful, happy eyes upon that group be-
meath the trees. They call and beckon me.
My wife looks up; her eyes meet mine, just
raised from these sad pages. All! love,
sweet love, in those dear eyes what was it
once my fate to read? Shame, sorrow,
dread, despair and love. All these, save
love, have vanished long ago; and as l turn
to pen these lines-the last, that look Of
calm, assured, unclouded Joy keeps with me,
telling me that from her life has passed even
the very memory of those dark, dark days !!
THE END.