Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1888-07-06

the tree and he only pointed q skinny
arm at me in derisiOn. ''Dyingl'' he
seemed to mOan-''Dyingj'' echoed the
wind that went sobbiding through his
branches.
One night, when the wave Of life
seemed to surge more strongly IN the
breast. and she had q flash OF
strength I told her loved her. ]
took one OF those burning, attsnuat-
ed hands and said. Live for mel
love youl''
She looked at me with unuutteraDle
Poor boy, you had better never been
bOEn!'
did not attempt to answer her.
AS soon would have answered the
ocean, had it thrown me like weed on
the rocks.
I have answered the ocean. had il
thrown me like weed on the rocks.
Still 1 sat by her side-stilI / strOve
to move her easy chair to the most
sheltered cOrner-s6ill I marked with
growing anguish the fading light of her
face. One evening, as 1 was so oc.
cupied, my landladY burst INTO the
room and uttered 'Murderl murder!"
and sank into her char, crying and
sObbiug.
wv no IS II! We DOCn SAID
''Mr. Montague Lewis has been
found murdered in his bed. No one
went to his room till an hour ago,
when his servant got alarmed. opened
his door and found him dead-stab.
bed! Oh, dear! Oh, dear"
WAS he quite deRd?" said Mrs.
Brown, in her calm, sepulchral voice.
"Quite. Oh, what a family and Mr..
Clifford not here; and whatever be-
came of his wife, l should like &c
know? There is something wrong
somewhere and with this profound
reflection our fat and asthmatic in.
formant left US.
These conference.-the murdered
man and his brOther-belong to an
old family in N. They were the
redgauntlets of the neighborhood
Handsome, MISUNDERSTANDING men.
they were reserved to an uncommon
degree, and stunning every one, were
Stunned in their turn. Dreadful
stories Of the bad passions of the race
fingered about in the neighbOrhOod.
Hard, cold men, with conn., pressed lips,
they walked occasionally through the
streets, or were seen in the library,
bowling distantly to an acquaint.
ance and frequently disappearing
from the town for a year OF
so. going no one knew whittier
Clifford Lewis, the youngest brother
was not at home when the murder
took place. a poor old hOusekeeper
was alone in the house. She said she
had heard a noise in the night, had
risen and looked over the stairs.
81 saw man. she said. "gOing out
Of my. masters room; 1 called to him,
and he answered me in my mas ter'6
voice, saying: 1T Is l, Rebecca, do
not fear; 60 to your room again. ]
thought then / knew his voice so well,
and so I went to bed. In the morning
he did not come down; but that often
happened. and he always told me not
to wake him, he was such a poor
sleeper. [ waited till night, and ther
oh that Mr.. Clifford would comet
In a lew days Mr.. Clifford came
The community was shaken with fear.
All that money and the law could DO
to ferret out the murderer was tried
Intellectually.
Mr.. Clifford Lewis, contrary to his
won't, went much to public places,
stimulating officials to do their duty,
and showing capacity and zeal. He
was a strikingIy handsome man and
had one of the most beautiful voices ]
much that 1 came home determined
to describe him to Mrs. Brown.
1 began describing him. She listened
in silence. with her long dark lashes
resting on her wan, pale cheeks.
I was dwelling on the concentrated
energy of his manner and the contrast
in the soft, mellow tones Of his voice.
II should think such men would bs
irresistible to women" I said;
strength in FepOse."
"And so they are, "said Mrs. Brown.
"But have you ever thought what
that manner Indicates? DO you know
what becomes Of the poor victim who
is grasping by that iron hand IN a vel
vet glove? I will tell you. She shrinks.
she trembles, she CrOuChes in submis-
sion; but she escapes-and, turning,
she stings her tyrRnt as a playful, tor
tured, serpent turns and stings!''
How this WOman's voice thrilled
me through! What terrible quality
had it that made my blood freeze in
my brain?
S'They sting! they stingi" she reiter-
ated.
Night came again. The tree told me
q, horrible secret that night. 1t Whisp-
cred a, word that kept sleep from my
ewes. In the dead Of night I heard a
foot on the stairs; I heard a door
shut above my head. These sounds
confirmed my worst imaginings. The
tree beckOned me out into the stormy
night; 1t threw one arm wildly up in
the air and pointed to her window.
The demon beckOned me up.
climbed MP the JAGGED trunk Ofthe old
tree, reaching one OF the long arm-like
branches, and crept along its frail
and swaying support. A dull light
shining in the room showed me that
woman-her pale hands bloody, her
person disguised in mems clothes, her
eyes cleaning with superhuman Iustre
and fendish triumph.