Springfield globe-republic. (Springfield, Ohio) 1884-1887, 1885-02-22

Eleu. Travelled 10 EuSltlu-tO LlVeTpOOl
AS fast as / could. / stayed there for a
week, and during that time made full re-
searches into the life and death of a woman
who, as Mrs. Wilson said, had died on GER
tain date, and been buried under the name
of Lucy Ferrand.
The information / acquired as to her ante
cedents is Of no consequence to my story.
Whatever her faults may have been, her his
tory was sad one; indeed it seemed to me
that the history of any woman who had
been cursed by Sir Mervyn Ferrand's love
was a sad one. However, the result of my
investigations was, in short, this: Ferrand
had married the woman many years ago.
They had parted by mutual consent. With
his cynical carelessness, he had troubled no
more about her; and, stranger still, she had
not troubled him. She died on the date given
by my informant. The question Of identity
could be easily settled so that II ever Philip
pa chose to claim the rights appertaining to
Sir Mervyn Ferrand's widow, she would
have no difficulty in making that claim good.
But trusted that years might pass before
she learned that the man was dead.
made my presence in England known to
no one; in fact, felt that in returning to
my native country l ran certain amount
of risk. For all knew to the contrary,
there might be warrant out against me.
If suspicion as to the author of that nights
work had in any way been directed to
Philippa, l, the partner of her flight, could
not hope to escape free. However, l COM
forted myself by thinking that if danger
menaced us should have heard something
about it, as after our first hurried start had
L. 40 20
abouts. 1t would have been useless. My
mother had friends in England, with whom
she exchanged letters. had an agent and
lawyers, with whom, if only for financial
reasons l was bound to correspond. had
been obliged to write to my stolid William,
and instruct him to get rid of the cottage as
best he could and TO look out for fresh
place for himself. But all the same l did
not care to let it be known that l was now
in England.
While engaged upon raking up evidence
on Philippa's behalf, did not neglect to
make such inquiries as l could respecting
the event which had happened that night
near Roding. l found that, so far as the
general public knew, the crime was still
veiled in mystery. No one had been arrest
ed no one had been accused; no reason for
the deed had been discovered, and as vet
suspicion pointed to no one. Indeed, in
spite of the hun ired pounds reward offered
by Government it seemed that Sir Mervyn
Ferrands murder was relegated to swell the
list of undiscovered crimes. By this l knew
that Mrs. Wilson had kept her promise of
silence; and now that months had gone by;
now that public attention had been turned
from the thrilling affair; now that Philippa
seemed as far or further than ever from
giving any token which suggested the awak-
ening of recollection of what her wrong,
her frenzy, had prompted her hand to do
unknowingly, 1 dared to hope that any
chance which remained of a revelation of
the truth was reduced to minimum. These
results of my investigations and inquiries
gave me immense relief, and my heart was
all but gay as, armed with the proofs Of the
first Lsdy Ferrand's DEATH hurried back
to Seville, Philippa, and the happiness
which l vowed should be mine.
We were married. Philippa and l were
married. Married and few months ago l
sat lonely, miserable and heart-broken,
deeming that the one loved was lost to me
forever! What matters the things which
have filled those months, and made them
the most painful of my life? To-day we are
man and wife, Joined together till death US
DO part!
said no word as to the result of my in
quiries in Liverpool. 1 had no difficulty in
persuading Philippa, who in some things
was as simple and trusting as child. that
it was necessary, or at least advisable, she
should be married under the name which
her first certificate of marriage affected to
bestOw upon her. She signed her name for
the last, it may, for aught know, have also
been the first time, as Philippa Ferrand; !;
and noticed that she shuddered as she
formed the letters.
Although my bride was by birth half a
Spaniard, and although / had by now in
many ways conformed to the Spanish mode
of life, we were still English enough to look
upon going away somewhere for honey
moon as indispensable. 1t would be but
short trip; and as my mother in our absence
would be left at Seville alone, or with SER
wants only, we did not care to go very far
away. 1t so happened that, although so
close to Cadiz, we had not yet paid that town
visit, and thought the present capital op-
portunity for so doing.
To Cadiz we went. and stayed several
white-walled town, rising and shining above
the dark-blue sea, like, as have somewhere
seen it described white pearl in crown
of sapphires; or, as the Gaditanos call it,
tdzitd de plata, silver cup. We liked the
rows of tall terrace-topped houses. We liked
the movement and hustle on the quays and
in the port. We liked the walks on the
broad granite ramparts, and the lovely view
of the busy bay and country beyond it; but
all the same we agreed that Cadiz bore no
comparison TO our beautiful Seville, and the
sooner we returned to that gay city the bet
ter.
Now that had gained my desire, was !
happy? After all that had passed, could /
have been happy during those early days Of
our welded life? As look back upon them,
l sit and muse, trying in vain to answer the
questions to my own satisfaction. Philip
pa loved me-she was my wife; come good,
come evil, she was mine forever. In so
much was happy, thrice happy. Could
have lived but for the present, my bliss
would have known no alloy.
But there was the past! l could not al
together forget the path which had led TO
such happiness as now was mine. / could
be thankful that alone knew all the hor.
rors and dangers with which that path was
alone knew the secret of that
one night. Although could keep it forever,
would it be always a secret?
Yes, and there was the future Behind
the happiness which was mine at present
lurEed a dread as to what the future had in
store for me--for us. 1t was dread which
day by day grew stronger. The greater my
the more dreadful the thought
Of its being wrecked. The feeling that my
house of joy was built upon sand was al
ways obtruding on my most blissful hours,
and not, l knew, without good reasons.
Philippa's very avoidance of speaking OF
her past life lent some justification to my
gloomy forebodings. Not once did Sir Mer-
vyn Ferrand's name pass between my wife
and me. Not once did she ask me for any
further particulars concerning the events of
that night upon which, in the height of her
Short-lived MANIA she reached my cottage.
True that upon becoming my wife, and be-
ginning new and happier stage Of life, it
might be but natural for her to wish to con-
sign to oblivion the wrong, the shame, the
wrought by a Villains craft; yet l
was so mixed up in the catastrophe that ST.