The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1886-04-02

ment and then sank TO the floor.
Assisted by her father and an old negro
nurse she reached the levee Just as the
boat was backing out. As long as
Deadman's Eddy was in sight the flutter
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 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 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
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 a drunken man. There had
been sharp skirmish near there the
evening before, and it was thought the
solitary figure coming through the
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 a
captain at that. He had received a ball
in the center of the forehead, which had
fractured but had not penetrated the
skull. He could not talk inteligently,
and his movements showed that his brain
lacked coordination. The expression
had gone out of his eyes, and his coun-
tonance 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 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 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.
= Il r
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, whisted
| 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
lively, to listen to the joyous outburst.
Inside the chapel of the Ursuline cChvent
| 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 queenly
| figure robed in the habiliments of a
bride. From that hour she was to be-
come bride of the Lord, and
henceforth as nun, to devote
herself to the obligation of recluse.
For her the world was to be dead
forever. There is always something in
etfably 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 worldly life again. There
were few dry eyes in the little building,
and even until to-day many recall the
morning when that beautiful young
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
sweetness for her.
That very morning, in the operating
ward of the charity hospital, that skill
full surgeon, Dr. Stone, was 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 care
full examination the cicatrix of 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 as one OF
pressure on the brain by portion of the
| a b., ,,.x
and remove the cause of the trouble
The operation was successful, and the
patient was removed to his cot in an
other ward.
The next morning he had fully recov
,sed from the effects Of chloroform. He
called the nurse to him. He asked
where he was, and was told. A new
light shone in his eyes. He sent Tor the
house surgeon. Everything had come
back to him. The vanished years of OBJ
iviousness dawned upon his re-awak-
ened memory. He remembered his
parting on that front gallery, the war,
the skirmish, and his affianced wife,
He begged the doctor to send for his
friends in the city. Surely some of them
could be found.
On the third day old Zenon CavellieI
visited the hospital. In the man with d
bandage about his head he recognized
one he had known five years before
The sick man turned over ON his bed and
looked at the visitor. He raised himself
on his elbow and his lips moved
"Where is Marguerite?' We're his frs,
words.
} The old gentleman hesitated but the
invalid begged so hard. At last, with
tears in his eyes the visitor answered
"She has taken the veil ut the convent
and has left the world"
! The head dropped back, the eye closed
! the hand fell listlcss ON the white sheet
. The nurse hurried to the surgeon, Their
! was IA rapid movement of feet ON tn,
sanded floor, and the gray-haired physi
clan appeared, He shook his head sadly
"'Tis too bad" said he; You have spoiled
that operation. Heart disease. That di,
the work! Some shock to his nerves, eh:
The driftwood still is carried round an'
round, in the currents of Deadman'
Eddy. The orange trees put on thei
bridal crowns each spring, as before, ant
the mocking-birds still warbe their ori
sons in the tall pecan trees, but neve
more will that queenly figure in white b
seen on the broad Veranda of the ol