Wessington Springs herald. (Wessington Springs, Aurora County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1891, 1886-05-21

ering glow from tho dying fire Q
NAMED to cast drear and fantastic
shadows on the ceiling. Many hours
must have passed. 1 must have been
forgotten when the servants retired to
rest, and DIR. West either had not re-
turned, or had not been made aware of
my presence. My position was en-
barrassing. 70 wake up in the middle
of the night and to find myself in a
strange house, was Il new experience.
| CROPPED about the room and felt for the
door by which I had entered. 1t was
locked. Bell Of any sort l could find
none. | tried to raise my voice, but
the death-stillness and darkness of the
room seemed to stiile me. l found the
window. and looked out. 1t opened
high above a courtyard closed IN by
walls. Again I tried the door. Then
L remembered that it was Il sort of pas
sage-room; that there was a door
lealling from it to an apartment be-
You'd. l managed to find this door,
covered as it was with heavy tapestry
hangings. Feeling very much like a
thief, 1 tried the handle. 1t turned in
my hand. and the door yielded noise
lessly. Beyond, 1 saw a large square
chamber, evidently a bedroom; but
the bed was unoccuplcd. 1t was a
quaint and Misunderstanding room. with
high oaken skirting and paneled cell
ing. A couple of candles burned on the
dressing-table, and threw Il faint light
over the dark furniture and the tapes
tries that hung against the walls.
Once more 1 tried to call out; but my
tongue seemed dried up, and my voice
refused to be heard. Presently, to my
relief l heard a human voice. 1t cvi-
IDENTIFY came from al apartment beyond
the one into which 1 had ventured. I'm
PEELED, l hardly knew how. Iresolved
to venture farther; and as my footsteps
fell noisclessly on the thick carpets, I
could hardly believe that l was not van
dering in u dream through the myste-
rious chambers of the dead.
Yet more and more distinctly l heard
the sad low voice that had caught mv
ear; and l approached stcalthily, and I
confess with something like awe the
door, which, as l perceived, opened
from the bedroom to the chamber whence
the voice proceeded. Here, as before,
a curtain of antique tapestry, reaching
from the ceiling to the floor, concealed
the aperture; and trying cautiously the
door, [ found that it opened toward me.
This gave me time to reflect before in
truding, with stealthy steps, in the dead
of night, into the privacy Of this inner
most chamber. Like a guilty creature,
[ stood and listened. The voice-for
there seemed to be but one-wa close at
hand. 1t was 4 strangely melancholy
voice, yet pc assessing Il fascinating power
that chained me to the spot.
"Will Won never, never speak to me
again, mydarling, my darling." heard
the words too plainly to mistake or for
get them. "Will you never speak to
me again! Year after year, as the day
comes round, l have prayed to God to
grant me but one sweet word-one word
to tell me of your love! Oh, my dar-
ling, my darling, have lprayed in vain'
Will those lips never again open with q
smile, those eyes never again look into
mine, even when [ come to you on my
knees, as LIDO this Christmas morning!!"
These strange words reproached INC.
Into what sacred precincts had I in
truded? What heart-brcaking grief was
l desecrating?
Suddenly the tone of voice changed.
The sad pathos gave way to accents of
Joy. ..Sec! see, my beloved one; here
are gifts worthy of a queen. Did l not
toll you that the time would come when
all our struggles would be over; when
there would be no more fighting for
very bread; no daily care; no
more dread of the future; no fears for
success, because it would be already
mine! All, Gertrude, my wife, my
darling, you were good and patient to
me in those days. If the clouds were
dark, your eyes wore always bright; if
the heavens were overcast, your smile
drove away the storm; your voice was
the music of my life, your ceaseless
trust was my lodestar. But all has
changed. Those days have passed. I
rich now; they say l am famous.
The day is now too short for my work,
and the night too short for rest. And
yet | need rest. I feel 1 cannot live
much longer if l may not rest. My brain
is ever reeling with its WEAKNESS, yet 1
can not sleep. Night after night is one
long vigil. No sleep, no rest, no peace!
| have been waiting for this night, tor
you, my love, for you! And now the
hour has come. It is Christmas morn.
Hark! already 1 hear the sound of
the Christmas bells. All! no wonder,
for my wife, my beloved, has come back
to me at last-come back to me from
the dead!" ..
In feverish excitement, l listened. But
there was no answer-not Il sound when
that trembling voice ceased to break the
stiffness of the night.
Presently it began again. ..They tell
me it is thirty years ago. Nonsense!
That is only a dream. 1t was y~ester-
day-yesterday, that you spoke to me
for the last time-yesterday, that you
babe me goodbye, and kissed me when
l went away. And to-day you are as
you were then. No change, no change.
at all. You are as young and as
as when | first took Your hand in
mine and called you wife,
Then there was a pause, and I was
conscious OF some movement beyond
the tapestry behind which l was guilty.
What followed startled me, but it
called me back to life. With Il voice
lr;1f;,r ~. u,;&l ,,,D+;on {ho $50.