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

"4ou have been feverish and delrous.
People like that always fancy strange
things"
She was, indeed, as weak as a child; but
| for the time, at least, she was perfectly
sane. I could have cried for joy as 1 heard
her faint but collected words. ventured
to hope that l had before me one of those
very rare cases-such as l had seen de-
scribed, but had not as yet met with-where
the patient awakes from long, artificially-
produced sleep perfectly free from all
maniacal symptoms If this We're so with
Philippa, if the return of reason were to be
permanent, l knew that few weeks care
full nursing and judicious treatment might
quite restore her to health. Even as this
comforting thought came to me, remenl-
bered the peril in which she Stood To
morrow-aye, even to-day-the thing which
dreaded might happen, and sweep away
all the good the narcotic had done her
She was now fully awake, and perfectly
quiet. gave her some refteshment; then
seeing she was lying in peaceful silence, I
thought it better to leave her. AS | quilted
her room drew dowu the blind, fearing
that the whirling snow might bring recol-
lections which it was my one wish to keep
from invading her mind.
The long. dreary day wore away. The
light faded, and another night began. Phi
| hppa still lay calm, silent, and almost apa-
thetic. did nothing to rouse her. went
to her side as seldom as possible. I feared
| that her seeing me might recall the events
of the last night, and that recollections SO
awakened might destroy all the good which
l felt sure had been accomplished by the
long hours of oblivion and quiet. Could I
have deputed my task to another, would
! Io,
NJ st anxiously, as evening came I awaited
the appearance of my faithful William and
| the nurses.
Would they be able to reach us in such
weather? 1t was still showing fiercey For
more than twenty-four hours the mad white
revel had continued without intermission.
| Indeed, that storm which burst rpon the
world as turned from Philippa's house on
the preceding night is now historical; it was
| the beginning of the heaviest and longest
fall which the record of fifty years can show.
| For two nights and day the snow came
down in what may almost be called drifting
masses. During that dismal day l saw from
| the window the heaps against the wall grow
deeper and deeper, and even in my preoccu-
pied state of mind found myself marvelling
at the sustained fury of the storm.
AT II O'Clock at night I sadly gave up all
hope of the much needed assistance arriving.
After Il, it seemed that William had found
it impossible to fight against the weather:
so I made my preparations for another night
of solitary watchfulness. | was all but worn
out with fatigue; yet Jared not sleep. II
| the mania returned, what might happen
| we're l not at hand to restrain Philippa's
actions? My hope that the madness had
really left my patient, not, if she were prop
| +,,oo tod 10,
but not yet strong enough to allow me to
leave her for any length of time.
Ny delight then may lie imag ined when,
looking for the hundredth time up the road,
I saw close at hand two flashing lights. and
knew that William, the faithful, had done
my bidding. In a few minutes two respect
| able women from one of the best of the
London nursing institutions were within my
walls.
The train had. of course, been late very
late. At one or two places on the lin e
it had almost given up the battle, and set
tied down quietly until dug out; but steam
| and iron had conquered, and at last it did
get to Rodi1g. There William, knowing
my dire necessity, offered such magnifcen
| bride that he soon found an enterprising
carriage proprietor who was willing to max.
the attempt to force two horses and a car
rage over six miles of road between Roding
and my house. The attempt was successful,
although the rate of progression was slow:
and William triumphantly ushered his
charges into my presence.
| After giving them time for rest and re-
freshment, I explained the nature of the
| case, set out the treatment | wished to be
adopted, and then led them to Philippa l
left the poor girl in their charge for the
| Il
| | stood so much in need
But before going to bed I saw William. I
dreaded to hear him say what gruesome
sight he had seen that morning; yet I was
bound to learn if the deed had yet been
made public.
did you manage to get to Roding all
right this morningg' / asked with assumed
carelessness.
rheerfully.
''Snow deep on the roadY
''Not so deep as I fancisd 'twould be. All
dritted and blown UP to one side, like. !
never seen such thing Drift must have
been feet deep this morning. What must it
be now, wonders Something like the Arctic
regions, l should think, sir?''
| For the first tim for hours and hours a
ray of hope flashed across me. William had
walked that lonely road this morning, and
noticed nothing except the drifted snow! |
remembered how placed the dead man in the
| little hollow at the bottom of the bank.
Could it be that the kindly, merciful snow,
which have already described as beginning
to form in Il winding sheet, had hidden and
buried him? That pure white, shane
less heap, which told no tales, concealed for
a while the dark deel from the world? Oh
that Philippe were well enough to leave this
place tomorrow! We might fly and leave
no trace behind us. She might never know
what she had done in her madness The
fearful secret would be mine alone. A bur-
den it would be, but one which I might
easily find strength enough to bear. Bear
it! could bear it, and be happy; for some
thing told ME that could l but save her from
the peril which menacel her. Philippa and
would part no more in this world until death,
the only conqueror of such love as mine,
swept US asunder.
| Once more l looked out into the night
still the snow-fakes whirled down. Oh,
| brave, kind snow! Fail, fall, fall! Pile the
masses on the dead wretch. Hide him deep
in your bosom. Fall for weeks for months,
foreveri Save my love and mel