Gloucester County Democrat. (Woodbury, N.J.) 1878-1932, 1885-12-24

nen tne morning uaWutC tne cA plcssiOh
on his own face was no longer that OF a
wolf. He had spoken but one word,
perhaps"
At daybreak, with step that defed
fatigue, he was making his way swiftly
toward Washington.
On reaching that city he learned where
Colonel Gallatin lived, ans It once pre-
sented himself at the door.
ssTell YOU. MISTRESS he said to the
servant, ''that have news Of David
Double." In answer Mrs Gallatin raE
down the stairs and drew the strange
guest into the drawing room. Without
a word he placed the letter in her hand,
and looked in her face. It was a face
which fold Of many joys and sorrows.
No sooner had Mrs. Gallatin read the
letter than she darted upon Nighthawk
a look that forbade disguise.
"David, forgive mel' she cried, and
sank at his feet. 1t was a strange sight,
the lady in rich attire kneeling to the
Ghoul-a sight that would almost call
for explanation on our present stage.
The letter was simple and contained
but these words:
Tomorrow shall be free. shall
fly to you on the wings of Iove.-DAvID
DOUBLE"
Edith" said Double, looking sternly
at the woman at his feet, ''you Eever re-
ceived my letter."
"Alasl" she sobbed, "they showed me
letters from the warden of your prison,
saying that you had been killed in try
ing to escape"
''Forgeries" cried Double, ferccly.
81 fell sick at the news; but I did not
doubt. They took me abroad; and long
afterward, thinking you were dead, ]
married"
''Your husband"
81 have no husband"
"You say true" said Double; "Col.
GalIatin was killed yesterday"
'.He deceived me; he was never my
husband" said the widow, fercely.
"And your fatherl" asked Double.
''He, too. is dead, !" she said, bursting
into tears Son his death-bed he begged
me to forgive him. Had I known, !
should have refused"
She sank upon chair and covered
her face with her hands.
AS Double stood looking at the
weeping lady, the pictures of his
youth, so near and yet SO far,
stole softly before him. The son of a
Scotch Presbyterian minister, at fifteen
he had been left without kith or kin.
He had emigrated to this country and
became bankers clerk At twenty he
had met beautiful girl, Edith Tappan,
and conceived for her an idolatrous pas
sion which was returned. Her father,
large merchant, had, in the frenzy Of
panic, forged notes to tide over sudden
danger. Double had inherited the idea
of self-sacrifce, and to save his be-
trothed's family from ruin, declared
himself the forger. His sentence had
been light, and he was to marry Edith
and go abroad with her under changed
name, as soon as he was free.
Before that period, asitnow appeared,
Edith's father, and rich admirer, Col
onel Gallatin, successfully conspired to
make her believe him dead. A year
later she had married the colonel.
A day before his release Double had
given a prison mate, whose escape he
had aided, letter to Edith. This let
fer the rascal had not delivered, but, on
seeing how the wind lay, had kept it to
blackmail Colonel Gallatin. He had
forced the colonel to give him a com
mission in his regiment. It was the
coloneps effort to steal this letter from
its wounded owner that led to the col
onels death. The blackmailer, in his
struggle to retain it, had drawn pistol
and shot the colonel through the heart.
The effect of what Double thought
Edith's treachery upon himself had been
terrible. His fall was as great as his
height. He took strange pleasure in
whatever was foulest and most debasing.
Since his release from prison he had
never seen Edith till on that recent day
at Washington.
But Mrs. Gallatin looks up. Explana-
tions, mingled with tender words, foli
low. It seems to Double that the evil
years Of his life are peeling off like dead
layers of bark from tree.
AS they were speaking boy Of four
ran into the room.
HWhat is his name2n asked Double.
s'David Double" she answered. "I
now see why he never called his son
by name.n
The wanderer burst into tears
A year later they were united in mar
riage, and no one recognizes in the
modest phiianthropist of to-day the mis-
anthrope of Yesterday. JOHN Ssointon's
Paper.
The Longest English Word.
A correspondent of the St. Louis