Weekly commercial herald. (Vicksburg, Miss.) 1884-18??, 1885-08-28

driven herl 1t needs but to find Philippe
hfeless on the road to complete the heaviest
tale Of grief which can be exacted from one
mar in one short night Iclinched my teeth
and rushed on.
had the road all the road to myself. No
one was abroad in such weather. Indeed,
few persons were seen at night In any
weather in ibis lonely part Of the country.
1made straight for my W house. The dis
mai thought came to me that unless Phil
lppa kept to the road she was lost to me
forever. If she strayed to the right or to
theleft, how on such a night could l posi-.
bly, find her9 Ny one hope was that she
would go straight to my cottage; so thither
Imade the best of my way. If she had not
arrived, l must get what assistance l could
and seek for her in the fields to the right and
left of the road. It was a dreary comfort
to remember that all the ponds and spaces
OF water were frozen six inches thick.
hesitated a moment when / reached her
late residence. Should I inquire If she had
returned thither7 No: when morning re-
J vealed the CHASTITY event of the night, nv
having done so would awake suspicion,
Let me first go home.
Home at last. In a moment / shall know
the worst. / opened the slide of my lam
tern, which was still alight, and threw the
rays on the path which led to my door. NY
neart gave a great bound of thankfuIness.
1here on the snow, not yet obliterated by
more recent flakes, were the prints of a
small foot. Philippe, as l prayed, but
scarcely dared to hope she might, had come
straight to my house.
NV man onanad tho doo. g.. -
well l had seen those footprints, as nv
knowledge of Philippa's arrival enabled me
TO assume a natural air.
my sister has conner l asked.
Yes, sir; about a quarter of an hour ago.n
we missed each other on the road. What
a nlghtW said, throwing off my snow-cov-
cred coat. "Where is she nowY' 1 asked. =
In the sitting room, sir" Then, lowering
his voice, William added: "She seemed lust
about in a tantrum when she found YOU
weren't at home. l expect we shall find her
a hard lady to please"
William, in spite of his stolidity, occa-
sionally ventured upon some liberty when adj
dressing me.
bis words greatly surprised me. l forced
myself to make some laughing reioinder;
then turned the handle of the door and en-.
tered the room in which Philippa had taken
refuge.
Oh, how my heart throbbedl What would
she say to me? What could l, fresh from
that dreadful scene, say to herl Would she
excuse or palliate, would she simply confess
or boldly justify, her crime9 Would she
plead her wrongs in e~xtenuationl Would she
assert that in a moment of ungovernable
rage she had done the deed9 No matter
what she said; she was still Philippa, and
even at the cost of my owl life and honor |
would save her. .
Yet as l advanced into the room a shudder
ran through me-. Fresh to my mind came
the remembrance of that white face, that
still form, lying as I had left it, with the
pure white snow falling thickly around it.
Philippe was sitting in front of the fire.
Her hat was removed, her dark hair dis
heveled and cleaning wet with the snow
which had melted in it. She must have
heard me enter and close the door, but she
took no notice. AS l approached her she
turned her shoulder upon me in a pettish
way, and as one who by the action means
to signify displeasure. l came to her side
and stood over her, waiting for her to look
up and speak first. She must speak first!
What can I say, after all that has happened
tonight2
But she kept a stony silence-kept her
eyes still turned from mine. At last l called
her by her name, and, bending down, looked
into her face.
Its expression was one of sullen anger,
and moreover, anger which seemed to deepen
as she heard my voice. She made a kind of
c~ontemptuous gesture as if waving me
aside.
"~Philippa," said, as sternly as 1 could,
'speak to meI'
laid my hand upon her arm. She shook
it off fiercely, and then star ted to her feet.
"You ask me to speak to you" she said;
''you who have treated me like thisl Oh,
it is shameful shameful I come through
storm and to you, who were to
welcome me as a brotherI Where are youl
Away, your wretched servant tells me. Why
are you away? l trusted you! Oh, you are
a pretty brother! If you had cared for me
or respected me, you would have been here
to greet me. Mol you are all in a league
all in a league to ruin mel Now l am here,
what will you do? Poison me, of course!
kill me, and make away with me, even as
budb JULIET uOCtOE hlll6u anu LlHu6 away
with my poor child9 He did! Isay he did
saw him do it! "A child of shame, he said;
so he killed it! All, all, all-even you
you, whom l trusted-leagued against mel'
She was trembling with excitement. Her
I words ran one into the other. 1t was as
much as l could do to follow them; yet the
above is but a brief condensation Of what
she said. With unchecked volubility she
continued to heap reproaches and accusa-
tions, many of which were of the most ex-
travagant and frivolous nature, on my
head. At last she was silent, and reseated
herself in her former attitude; and the sui
len, disconnected, ill-used look again settled
on her face. "a.
And yet, although l, who loved her above
all the world, was the object of her fierce
reproaches, no words / had yet listened to
came more sweetly to my ear than these.
A great joy swept through me; a tide of
relief bore me to comparative happiness.
Whatever dreadful deed the poor girl had
that night accomplished she was morally
innocent Philippe was not acco untable
for her ~actionsl
As a doctor I read the truth at once.
The rapid flow Of words, the changing
moods. the vehement eXcitement. the sullen.