The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1886-08-28

them. evil you never speak to me
again Year after year, as the day comes
round, 1 have prayed to God to grant me
but one sweet word-one word to tell me
of your love! Oh, my darling, my darling,
have 1 prayed in vain Will those lips
never again open with a smile, those eyes
never again look into mine, even when l
come to you on my knees, as | do this
Christmas morning
These strange words reproached me.
Into what sacred precincts had intruded?
What heart breaking grief was | desecrat-
ing.
Suddenly the tone of voice changed.
The sad pathos gave way to accents of joy.
HSee see, my beloved one; here are gifts
worthy of Queen. Did I not tell you
the time would come when all our strug-
giles would be over; when there would be
no more fighting for very bread; no more
daily care; no more dread of the future; no
fears of success, because it would be already
mine All, Gertrude, my wife, my darl-
ing, you were good and patient to me in
those days IF the clouds were dark your
eyes were 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.
1 am rich now; they say l am famous.
The day is now too short for my work and
the nig ght too short for rest And yet |
need rest. 1 feel cannot live much Ion
ger if l may not rest. My brain is ever
reeling with its weariness, yet cannot
sleep. Night after night is one long vigil.
No sleep, no rest, no peacel have been
waiting for this night, for you, my love,
for you And now the hour has come.
1t is Christmas morning. Hark already
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 p
In feverish excitement listened. But
there was no answer, not 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 dream. 1t was yesterday
yesterday, that you spoke to me for the last
time yesterday that you bade me good
bye, and kissed me when l went away.
And to-day, you are as you were then. No
change, no change, none at all. You are
as young and as fair as when l first took
your hand in mine and called you wife. "
Then there was pause, and | was con-
so;o,c of Gonna YnovauaDt hovoDd tho TON
estry behind which L was guiltily hiding.
What followed startled me, but it called
me back to life. With a voice thrilling
with emotion, the man once more broke
the silence. ''Gertrude! These are yours.
This is your birthday, and our old wedding
day, and l have not forgotten you. You
do not yet believe that l am rich and fa-
nous, and that your husband has many
friends See These are gifts from those
whom | have rescued from death They
are thank offerings to tbe doctors wife.
Here is bracelet. 1t is set with emeralds.
No rarer could be found. All how charm
ing it looks on that dainty wrist And
here is something Princess might wear.
1t is tiara of diamonds; and it is yours.
All, my wife, let me place it on your browl
Oh, my queen, my queenp
Unable to restrain myself longer l eau
tiously drew aside tho taPeotrJ and PgvIUd
into the chamber beyond it. 1t was COM
paratively small, but richly furnished,
though in the fashion of olden times. 1t
was, thought, ladies boudoir, but, from
where was concealed, only portion Of
the room was revealed to my view. 1t was
not the room that arrested my attention,
but what it contained. On small table,
almost within my reach, lay those very
ornaments-the earrings, the necklet, the
pendant-of rubies and pearls, the loss Of
which had first led me to unravel, if
could, the mystery of the great jewel rob-
berry. | could not be mistaken. The de-
scription given me had been most minute,
An exact counterpart of the set was not in
existence, and here it lay on the table be-
fore me.
As | looked on with astonishment, from
the part of the room could not see there
approached me, slowly and with pensive
step and bowed head, like one walking in
his sleep, the man whom l now almost
dreaded to see-the famous doctor, Gideon
West.
Could he be the author of these myste-
rious thefts? l could not believe it, ant
yet the proofs of his guilt lay before me
No longer hesitating, 1 stepped forward.
So sudden and SO unexpected was my ap
pearance that the man was unconscious o.
my presence until 1 had placed my hands
upon his arm and gasped in trembling
tones: CDR. West-I-arrest-." Bu
the sentence was never completed
With a cry that might have been heard
almost in the grave, the unhappy mar
shrank from me. At that instant turned
in the direction to which he was pointing
with that agonized look upon his face, and
as l did so l loosened my hold and my
hands fell powerless to my side. In thu
corner of the chamber hitherto hiddeI
from me saw one of those old-fashione(
bedsteads, with heavy draperies around it
The curtains were of silk, once pearl,
white, now dulled and faded by age. TIL,
counterpane and pillow, once like driver
snow, were white no more Lying on tn,
bed, with her head on the pillow and he
body partially concealed by the bed linen
1 saw the form of woman--a woman WHIT
must once have been fair aud beautiful tt
behold. Her luxuriant hair fellin wreath
on each side of her face, and was thel
brought together over the bare white throat
Her arms were uncovered by the counter
pane, and, clasping an infant child in thei
embrace, lay folded across her breast,
AS l realized all the details of wha
seemed like a vision, 1 confess that my
nerves failed me- 1 could only look a
that cold, pale face, lying so still on the
pillow, with the child face nesting beside
it; and as / looked realized that the still
ness was the stiffness of death.
Like one entranced | remained motion
less for some moments, when again l wa
aroused to action.
A figure clothed in white-the fact
scarcely less pale than the face of the dead
the scanty locks of hair, white with age
hanging loosely about her shoulders, the
eyes fixed on the bed and the. hands
stretched out supplicatiugly toward it