Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1885-02-27


I stayed up the whole night Oh that aw-
full night! shall ever forget it? The soli-
tude-the raging snow storm outside-the
poor creature, to whose side l crept noise
lessly every half an hour She lay there
with face like marble, calm and beautiful.
The long, dark lashes swept her pale cheek
The only movement was the regular rise and
fall of the bosom. Oh, happy oblivion! Oh,
dreaded Weakening! As | looked at her, in
spite OF the love 1 bore her, believe that, had
thought such prayer would be answered,
l should for her sake have prayed tibet those
lashes might never again be lifted.
Morning at last broke on my dreary vigil.
Philippe still slept. returned to the sitting
room and drew back the curtains from the
window. Yes; it was morning-such a
morning as leaden, wintry skies can give.
1t was still showing as heavily, if not more
heavily, than it had showed last night For
twelve hours the fakes had fallen without
intermission
There was little wind now; it had dropped,
knew. about an hour ago. The world, so
far as l could see, was clad in white butt the
snow lay unevenly. The wind had blown it
into drifts. On my garden path its depth
might be counted by inches; against my gar
den wall by feet.
William now made his appearance He
prepared some breakfast for himself, and
then, having done justice to it. started for
Roding. 1t occurred to me that he might
be the first to find the object which lay on
the roadside.
Except that so doing might delay him and
cause him to miss the train, this mattered
little. l was now calmly awaiting the in
evitable. Some one must make the dis
&c 7 tad he T
said to him:
Remember this is life and death Moth
ing must stop you" He touched hisshat in a
reassuring manner, and tramped off through
the snow.
returned to my patients bedside and sat
watching her, and waiting ft,rsher to awake
She had now slept for nearly eleven hours
and l knew that return to life might take
place at any moment l longed for. and yet
dreaded, her awakening. When the effects
of the opiate were gone, how should l find
herr Alasl l knew that the chances We're a
thousand to one that her brain would still
be full of strange delusions; that she would
turn from me, as she turned last night with
loathing and anger But my greatest fear
was that she would. upon coming to herself
or rather 80 her poor insane Sc f, be conscious
of the act she had accomplish I'd. twas tllg
Iear OF this which made me- wish that the
opium would hold her in It's drowsy grasp
for hours longer.
This wish was granted. Hour after hour
l sat by her motioness form. Now and
again glanced from the beautiful, sense
less face, and looking out of the window
saw the snow still falling. Would my mes
senger ever be able to reach town; if he did
30, would he be able to return? | was bound
to have woman's aid The presence of the
toughest daughter of the plow would be
welcome to me when Philippe awoke. And
it was now time she did so.
Although felt her pulse almost every
other minute, an could find no reason for
alarm, l am bound to say that her long
sleep. protractad far beyond any had in
my experience seen produced by the exhibit
ton of narcotics, rendered me very uneasy.
SHALL I am sure, scarcely be credited when
l say that Philippa's Inconsistencies lasted
for IL hours-:rom 8. 80 at night to 1.30 on
the following afternoon. | began then to
think the duration abnormal, and deter
mined to take some steps towards arousing
her.
But l was spared the responsibility. She
stirred on the couch. Her turned languidly
on the pillow. Her dark eyes opened,
closed, and opened again. She looked at
me in dazel manner, not at first seeming
to know me, or to understand why l was
near her, or where she was. A prey to the
widest anxiety, Ileaned over her and waited
until she spoke.
Little by little her bewilderment seemed
to leave her. Her eyes rested with curious
inquiry upon mine. 'Basil, she said family,
but in tone of surprise, ''you here? Where
am II"
''Under my roof-your brothers roof,' I
said.
"Ah! remember" she said, with deep
sigh. Then she closed her eyes, and once
more seemed to sleep.
What did she remember? 1t seemed to
me too great mercy to expect that those
hours of oblivion had effected q cure, but
my hope was that she did not remember
what had happened when she met Sir Mer-
vyn Ferrand on the road. l was almost
trembling with excitement. l was longing
to really know in what state her mind was.
Besides, l thought she had slept as long as
was good for her l took her hands and
called her by name
Once more she opened her eyes. They
expressed no fear Of me, no dislike to me.
They conveyed no reproach. They were
calm, sad weary, but gave no evidence of
any mental disorder.
Have been i'll long, Basil?' she asked.
''Not very long. You are going to get
better soon."
81 came to your house, did I not?"
"Yes; and here mean to keep you Do
you feel weaks
very weak, Basil. have dreamed such