The clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1883-1888, 1886-12-22

of him-the sobs that shook her frame
till the bed trembled under it-none of
them reached his ear.
1t was not any remembrance of the
lovely young being who had hung upon
his arm, and sat beside HIM in flower
lit portieo but short time before; her
beauty had pleased him, her converse
ton had whiled away little of that
time which was often spent in bitter
thoughts, since he began to receive the
letters from Ross and 60 yield credence
to the reports regularly sent him of the
estrangemeut and faithlessness of his
young wife.
She had fled now fled from his
| friends roof, and come northward no
doubt TO obtain greater freedom, and
escape the vigilance of those he had
placed about her Thus ran the last
letter that Clark had received from his
friend.
Clark read the letter over, after he re-
turned home that night, for something
seemed constantly whispering of Zuli-
ma; he could not drive her from his
mind. 1t seemed to him as if some
great mistake had arisen, as if he had
not read the letters of his friend Alright.
No; when he perused this letter again,
it was clearly written; nothing ambigu-
Gus was there, nothing limited; his wife
had ceased to love him; she had fled.
Still there was something at his heart
that would not be thus appeased: the
mysterious presence of this young crea-
ture seemed to haunt his room, haunt
the innermost chambers of his heart
He thought of the letter she had written
him. and which he had burned while
under the terrible influence of his
friends epistle. He began to regret
now, to wish that he had at least seen
the contents of that letter; still his
friend was dispassionate, just-why
should this calm report be doubted? a
report evidently wrung from him by q
strong sense of duty.
Mr.. Clark slept little that night; his
better angel was abroad Zulima, too,
was weeping beneath the same roof
he knew it not, but still he could not
sleep.
In the morning Smith came to the
| chamber where Mr.. Clark was sitting at
breakfast. His face was sad he seemed
i'll at ease.
81 thought it best to come and bring
this news to you first; it might save you
from great enpdFTdSSuieHGs
"What news?-what embarrassment
said Clark, who had no idea that Smith
knew anything of Zulima, or her con-
nection with him. "Surely nothing has
gone wrong in the business
"No; but the young lady who says
she knew you in New Orleans-that she
has claims upon ycu
Mr.. Clark turned deadly white; this
sudden mention of his wife unnerved
him.
"And she in Philadelphia?-where
is she?-how came she to find you outY'
81 do not know; she sent me note
and | went to her hotel"
"Was she alone-was she alone p
questioned Mr.. Clark, starting up.
"No, not quite alone" replied Mr..
Smith, with a meaning smile; Il saw
only one person with her, young and
remarkably handsome man"
Mr.. Clark sank to his chair as if bull
let had passed through his heart. "Go
on" he said, after moment; '>go on, |
am listening"
"This lady, sir, seemed determined to
see you; she came on here-she Is now
in Baltimore"
"And her companiong' said Mr.. Clark
with a CHASTITY smile.
oNo.S replied Mr.. Smith, think she
would not do that She wishes to SEE
YOU; do not know what her object is. >
81 will not see her; | will never SET
her again" said Nj Clark, and his face
looked like marble. eff she needs any
thing. supply her; she is, sir, the mother
of INV child; she is-but [ will not tall
of il: let her want for nothing-she is
my wife" -. ~, d.
"No, it is enough"
Mr.. Clark rang the bella man en-
tered.
aHave my carriage brought up a
once: I shall set out for Washington
Mr.. smith, you know how to act. Saw,
me from repetition of this; you set
how il tortures me. / loved that young
creature Il thought, fool, madmaI
, that I was-but she seemed to love me.
Mr.. Clark went into another room; h
. could moi endure that other eyes should
witness his emotion. The coachinar
now came up; his proud master under
stood that everything was ready, anC
without speaking word, left his apart
ments.
! lie stepped into his carriage; he wa
gone-gone without hearing the wilC
shrek that broke froDl the lips of tina
poor Young wife, who had caught ont
glimpse of him from her window. Sh
J. shook the sash-she strove to call afte
; him: but her arms trembled-her voic,
was choked with all her effort she mad
r but little noise; those in the next room
heard nothing of it, till she fell heavil.
: on the floor.
Mr.. Smith found her there, lying lik
/ a corpse rigid and insensible. Then hi
5 heart smote him-then would he hay
Q given worlds that the falsehoods whic
: brought all this misery had not been ui
, tered. He had tried to think i'll of hi
i victim, to believe that between her an
f her husband there was neither love no
t sympathy; how had the last hour unde
l ceived him. MaddeRed by doubt an
jealousy, his benefaetor had not even al
r tempted to conceal the anguish occs
= stoned by what he deemed the perfid
. of his wife; and she-was she not ther,
E cold as marble, white as death, prostrat
!. at his feet?
e But he could not go back-his eyi
/ work must be fully accomplished; no
3 to shrink or waver, would be to expos
; himself; that he could not contemplat
e for moment. Zulima became sensibl
q at last. 1t was long time, but finall
: she opened her eyes, and sat up.
i ssHe is gone" she said, lifting he
e heavy eyes to Smith: "he is gone, will
!, out one word Of explanation"
a "What could he explain, but ths
: which be would not wish to say face
d face with his victim? He has deceive
e you with a mock marriage. L knew ths
it would prove SO. You are free, yo
o are wealthy, if ycu choose. Be resigned
a there is no redress"
i NO redress zulima repeated tt
IS word over and over again. mo redress
p | thought myself his wife; am tt
4 mother of his child. Oh, God! Myr
r Myra, my poor, poor child
Il =
i They were parted-Zulima solemnl
Ie believed that she had never been tt
5, wife of Daniel Clark, that she was free
20 oh, how cruelty free-and another love
sr her.
d Wounded, in her pride, broken
le spirit, outraged, humiliated, utter
alone; was it strange that the poor tor
n heart of that young creature, at lengi
Is became grateful for the affection th.
W her grief and her desolation had excl
/. ed? She told him all, and still tn.
,r young man loved her, till he besougl
her to become his wife; and she, unha
ie py woman-consented
b, There was no secreey-no private ma
E. riage now; in the full blaze of day
le robed in satin, glossy and white as Il
leaves of a magnolia, her magnificel
Y, tresses bound with white roses, b.