, 1886-06-01

AcnfS a-peld oil young MolaiSon oil the al
dining parish. Edouard Montpre caught
the infection. Forty young men ten
dered him their c%aptaincy, and in three
weeks he and his men were on n steam
boat bound for the Crescent City.
The parting of Edouard and Marguerite
was most tender and affecting. The men
Of the company, long afterward, around
the camp fires in the mountains of Nir-
ginia, frequently talked of it, and not a
little of the love and solicitude for their
captain was due to their knowledge that
he had left behind the most loving and
noble girl in the state.
The boat blew n long and discordant
whistle, as if impatient of the delay
caused by DE Montpre's leave-taking. He
realized that the supreme moment had
once He bent tenderly over her and
whispered. Ma cherie, l will be with
you soon again. 1t may all be over in a
month. Look for my return on every
boat. Think of me often, my darling. 1t
is for you and II people / 60" He
kissed her, muttered a tremulous
Marguerite stood m~otionless for n mo-
ment and then sank to the floor.
Assisted by her father and an old negro
nurse she reached the levec just as the
boat was backing out. As long as
Deadman's Eddy was in sight the nutter
Of a white handkerchief could be dis
cerned against the background Of green
willows growing on the bank.
Boats passed and repassed. Some
times they would stop neal the Cavellier
place, sometimes they would go on, but
none of them bore her lover back to her.
She waited weeks, months, years. Each
day that figure in white could be seen
seated in the shade of a live oak in front
of the old plantation house, keeping its
watch for that BOAT that never came.
The Federal pickets lear Culpepper
court house, Virginia, were surprised
just after daybreak by the appearance of
a man staggering along alone, without
rifle or accoutrement. The mud on his
dress completely hid the color of his
uniform. His face was bloody and he
reeled like n drunken man. There had
been n sharp skirmish near there the
evening before, and it was thought tho
solitary figure coming through the
misty woods was some Union
soldier left on the field who
had recovered sufficiently to get
up. The men went out to meet him and
We're surprised to discover that the unfor-
tunate fellow was a Confederate, and n
captain at that. lie had received a ball
in the center of the forehead, which had
fractured but had not penetrated the
skull. He could not talk intelligently,
and his movements showed that his brain
had gone out of his eyes, and his coun-
tenancc was pale and wan. He was
to the rear and placed in n hos
pital in Washington City, from which he
recovered from the wound, but the pres
sure Of n particle of bone on the brain
left him lacking his memory. He could
tell nothing of his past. 1t was as if it
had never existed.
When the war closed he was released
from prison. He knew not where to go,
for he could not recall from whence he
came. An old gentleman of southern
proclivities W. him employment as a
gardener in the neighborhood of Wash
ington. and he brought to his new posi-
ton a strong frame, willing heart and
happy disposition. Ue was looked upon
with much curiosity by ill the neighbor-
hood, for his bearing and features showed
he came from p~atrician blood.
. = = 4
1t seemed as if all natures minstrelsy
had joined TO greet the beautiful morn
ing. The tinkling of COW bells in the
pastures behind the convent, usually the
first notes of approaching dawn, Were
silenccd by the twitter of birds in the
great pecan trees. Mocking birds and
%oriole, the cardinal and pape, whistled
so cheerily that even the blackbirds,
half doing on last years cornstalks out
in the fields. turned their heads first on
one side and then on the other media
to listen TO the joyous outburst.
Inside the chapel of-the Ursuline convent
there was gathered a silent congrega-
ton. mostly of ladies. The yellow light
of this spring morning poured through
the windows. adding something of the
supernatural to the appearance of the in
terror. The tender, tremulous notes of
the organ, the almost weeping voices of
the choir, and the agitated tones of the
good priest visibly affected all present.
In front of tine altar knelt a q%ueenly
figure robed in the habiliments of a
bride. From that hour she was to be-
come n bride of the Lord, and
henceforth as a nun, to devote
herself to the obligation of a recluse.
For her the world was to be dead
forever. There is always something in
sad in the ceremony of taking the
veil, and in this case circumstances made
it unusually touching. A young lady
endowed with wealth, beauty and every
thing that could make n home happy
passed out the chapel door never more to
look upon Il worldly life again. There
we're few dry eyes in the little building.
and ever until to-day many recall the
woman gave up the name her family
knew her by and was rechristened Sister
Ursule. Hope deferred had made the
heart sick, and the world had lost its
-wectness for her.
That very morning, in the operating
ward of the Charity hospital, that skill
full surgeon, DIR. Stone, "a performing a
most delicate operation. A poor fellow,
shortly before arrived on a New York
steamer, had applied for admission to the
hospital. suffering from neuralgia. He
complained of his head, and after a care
ful examination the c~icatrix Of n wound
in the forehead was discovered. The
patient told of his lack of memory and
could not give anything of his history.
The doctors diagnosed the case rs one OF