The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1886-04-08

nurse sne reached the Ievee Just as the
boat was backing out. AS long as
IDeadman's Eddy was in sight the flutter
of 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 near 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 near Culpepper
court house, Virginia, were surprised
just after daybreak by the appearance of
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 drunken man. There had
been sharp. skGmish near there the
evening before, and it was thought the
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
were surprised to discover that the unfor-
tunate fellow was a Confederate, and
captain at that. He had received 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
lack ed coordination. The expression
had gone out of his eyes, and his coun-
tenance was pale and wan. He was
escorted to the rear and placed in hos
pital in Washington City, from which he
recovered from the wound, but the pres
sure of a 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 gave him employment as
gardener in the neighborhood of Wash
ington; and he brought to his new posi-
ton a strong frame, willing heart and
happy disposition. He was looked upon
with much curiosity by all the neighbor-
hood, for his bearing and features showed
he came from patrician blood.
-
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
silenced 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 yeaI s cornstalzs out
in the fields turned their heads first on
one side and then on the other media
lively, to listen to the joyous eutburst.
Inside the. chapel of the prsuline convent
there was gathered 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 the altar knelt a qneenly
figure rebed in the habiliments of a
bride. From that hour she was to be-
come a bride of the Lord, and
as nun, to devote
herself to the obligation of a Fecluse.
For her the world was to be dead
forever. There is always something in
effably 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 home happy
passed out the chapel door never more to
look upon a worldly life again. There
were few dry eyes in the little building,
and even until to-day many recall the
when that beautiful young
gave up the aame her family |
knew her by and was rechristened Sister |
Ursule. Hope defer ed had made the |
heart sick, and the world had lost its |
sweetness for her.
That very morning in the operating |
ward of the Charity hospital, that skill |
Pul surgeon, DR.. Stone, was performing |
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 |
of his head, and after a care
'ul examination the cicatrix of wound |
IN the forehead was discovered. The |
DdIlCnJ IOtQ VI "a IlculOIJ anu
could not give anything of his history.
The doctors diagnosed the case as one of
pressure ON the brain by a portion of the
frontal bone, and resolved 20 trephine
and remove the cause of the trouble. J
The operation was successful, and the
patient was removed to his cot in an
)ther ward. |
The next morning he had fully recov-
cred from the effects Of chloroform. He
,alled the nurse to him. He asked
where he was, and was told. A new
light shone in his eyes. He sent for I'll.
house surgeon. Everything had come
back to him. The vanished years of OBJ
iviousness dawned upon his re-awak-
sned memory. He remembered his
parting on that front gallery, the war,
5he skirlnish, and his affianced wife.
He begged the doctor to send for his
friends in the city. Surely some of them
Gould be found, e
On the third day old Eenon Cavellier
visited the hospital In the man with a
1andage about his head he recognized
)ne he had known five years before.
The sick man turned over on his bed and
ooked at the visitor. He raised himself
IN his elbow and his lips moved.
Where is Marguerite?" were his first
words. -L
The old gentleman hesitated, but the
Invalid begged so hard. At last, with
ears in his eyes, the visitor answered:
She has taken the veil at the convent,
md has left the world.H
The head dropped back, the eye closed,
he hand fell hstless on the white sheet.
The nurse hurried to the surgeon. There
vas a rapid movement of feet on the
anded floor, and the gray-haired physi-
ian appeared. He shook his head sadly.
'Tis too bad, [" said he; ~You have spoiled
hat operation. Heart disease. That did
he work! Some shock to his nerves, eh?s
The driftwood still is carried round and
ound, in the currents of Deadman's
Iddy, The orange trees put on theiy ]
ridal crowns each spring, as before, and
he mocking-birds still warble their orr
ons in the tall pecan trees, but never
more will that queenly figure in white be {
90, ~, kbo broad varanda of the old |