San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1886-09-20


ing him, he speaks aloud.
Florence, you still awake. when all
the world is sleeping
His name falling from his lips touch
eS a chord in her breast, and wakes her
to passionate life.
"YOu too" she SAYS in a whisper that
reaches his strained ears. There seems
= to her subtle joy in the thought that
they two of an the household are
awake, are here taking together alone
in the pale light of the moon.
Yet she is wrong IN imagining that
no others are up in the house, as his
next words tell her.
1T is not matter of wonder in my
case" he responds: "A few fellows are
still in the smOking-TOOm. 1t is early,
you knOw-nOt yet three. But you
why are you keeping a lonely vigil like
this?"
The moon tempted me to the win
dow" answers Florence. See how
calm she looks riding majestically up
there. See"-stretChing out her bare
white arm until the beams fall full up
on it, and seem to change it to pureSt
marble-"dOeS it not make one feel as
if all the world were being bathed in
its subdued glow"
A pale tremulOuS smile widenS her
lips Sir Adrian, pluCking a tall pale
lily growing near him, filings it upward
with such an eager aim that it alights
upon her windOw-Sill. She sees it. Her
fingers close upon it.
Fit emblem of its pOSSeSSOr," says
Adrian softly, and rather unSteadily.
"DO you know of what you remind me,
sitting there in your white robes? A
oil int ,,1t in. -,
gel, too good. too far above all earthly
passion to enter into it, or understand
it, and the grief that must ever attend
upon it."
He speaks bitterly 1t seems to him
that she is indeed cold not to have
guessed before this the intensity of his
love for her. However much she may
have given her affection to another, it
still seems to him ineXpreSSibly hard
that she can have no pity for his suffer
ing. He gaZeS at her intently. Do the
mystic mOOnbeamS deceive him, or are
there tears in her great dark eyesp His
heart beats quickly. Once again he re-
members her emotion of the past even
ing. He hears again her passionate
sObs. Is she unhappy? Are there
thOrns in her path that are difficult to
remover.
Florence, once again l entreat you
to confide in me-" he says, after a
pause.
Il can not" she returns, sadly but
firmly. But there is one thing | must
say TO yOu-think of me as you may for
saying i'll am not cold as you seemed
to imply moment since; l am not
made of stone; and, alas, the grief you
think me incapable of understanding
is mine already You have wrOnged
me in your thoughts. | have here" she
the hand in which she still holds the
dropping lily upon her breast, what l
would gladly be withOut-a heart"
NAY" says Adrian hastily; you for
get. 1t is no longer yours, you have
given it away"
For an instant she glanceS at him
keenly, while her breath comes and
goes with painful quickneSs.
"YOu have no right to say So" she
murmurs at last.
mo, of course not; | beg your par
don," he says alphabetically. 1T is
your own secret"
There is no secret" she declares
nervOusly. None"
81 have offended you. | should not
have said that. You will forgive mer"
he entreats, with agitation.
you are quite forgiven" and, as a
token leans a little further out of the
window, and looks down at him with
face pale indeed, but full of an unutter-
able sweetness.
Her beauty cOnquers all his resOlu-
tiOns.
"Oh, Florence" he whispers in an
impassiOned tone, IF only dared tell
you what"
She starts and lays a finger on her
lips, as though to enforce silence.
Hush" she says, in trembling ac-
cents. you forget. The hour, the
surroundings, have mOmentarily led
you astray. | ought not to have spO-
ken with you. Go! There is nothing
you dare to tell me-there is nothing |
would wish to hear. Remember your
duty to goodnight"
"Stay, | implOre you, for one mo-
ment," he cries; but she is firm, and
presently the curtains are drawn close
and he is alone.
Slowly he walks back toward the
smOking-rOOm, her last words ringing
in his ears-"Remember your duty to
another" What other? He is puzzled,
but. reaching the window of the room,
he diSmisseS these thoughts from his
mind, and determines to get rid of his
guests without delay, so as to be able
TO enjoy a little quiet and calm for re-
Election.
They are all nOisily discussing a sui
eide that has recently taken place in a
neighbOring county, and which had,
from its peculiar circumstances, caused
more than usual interest.
One of the guests tonight is an army
surgeon, and he is giving them an ex-
PLANTATION as to how the fatal wound
had been inflicted. 1t appeared at the
inquest that the unfortunate man had
shot himself in peculiar manner as IL
cause considerable doubt as to whether
he had been murdered or had died by
his own hand. Evidence, however, of
a most convincing nature had con-
firmed the latter theory.
Captain RingwoOd, with revolver
In his hand, is endeavOring to show
that the man could not have shot him
self, just as Adrian re-enters.
"Be careful with that revolver" he
eXclaims hastily; 1T is lOadedl"
"All right, old fellow, know it," re-
how could he make wound herep
why not? Sir Adrian, take the re-
volver for a moment, will your" says
the surgeon, anxious to demonstrate his
theory beyond the possibility of doubt.
81 want to convince RingwOod. Now
stand so, and hold the weapon So
placing it with the muzzle presented in
rather awkward position almost over
his heart.
Il thought fellows always put the
muZzles of their revolvers in their
mouths and blew their brains out when
they committed suicide" Ringwood re-
marks lightly.
"This fellow evidently did not" says
the surgeon calmly. "NOw, Sir Adrian.
you see, by holding it thus, you could