Springfield daily republic. [volume] (Springfield, O. [Ohio]) 1887-1888, 1888-07-07

| Aig gnu uicailiS idutu lTOiu ull utl1ut fOl
ah. loved the wildwood flower | had
found beneath the pines, and she-oh
the memory of her love for mel
She told me of herself in those sweet
days. how she had always lived there with
that fend. seeing no other face but his,
hearing no sound but the shrill cry of the
panther through the dark She wore a
little locket in her breast, with the face
of woman in it-a face beautiful as the
angels. with eyes like Carmas own. Her
father. she said, had told her once it was
the face of her mother, who had died at
| Carmais birth. "And then he struck me,
and went off. and stayed for many days, e"
she said, shivering with the memory of
his brutal blows. 1comforted her as best
could, and fingered on.
One morning. our stock of venison get
| ting low, | started off again in search of
game. Carma stood in the doorway and
| watched me out of sight. | had good
luck that day, and went hurrying home.
ward in the twilight, listening to catch
the first notes of greeting song, but all
was still-too still, | thought. Then,
suddenly, there was one long, wild
scream, one such as called me TO her side
before, and l knew that the fiend had
come back. Rushing madly forward, |
reached the door in time to see the villain
seize my darling by the throat and plunge
long dirk knife into her breast; to see
her totter, fall heavily, and then-then
my senses left me, and knew nothing of
what was doing for some time
When i recovered Twas kneeling before
the dead body of the girl loved. while
close to us lay her murderer, with the
long knife in his blackened heart-for |,
too, bore the mark of Cain.
Somehow knew not howl staggered
to my feet, and seizing my gun, went out,
leaving the dead together in the aceursed
hut.
The next few weeks are blank to me.
but my old friend, Totten, told mo that
one day | was found by some hunters
more dead than alive, in a glen, far off
from the bloody scene. They said | had
lost my way, and had tainted from starva-
tion, where they found me. never told
them otherwise.
Three years after that was in San
Francisco. living with friend, great
criminal lawyer there. He told me of
many things and in his conversation spoke
of a case he had tried two years before of
young girl accused of numbering her
father. Then the tale came out
My darling was not dead. as supposed,
when left her, but rather in that awful
swoon which is twin sister to death. A
party of miners, passing down the canyon
some days after the tragedy, saw the
cabin hid among the pines. and going in
found the cid man lying dead on the floor,
with the girl crouching beside him
When questioned. she would enswer moth
ing. but that the crime was hers. Il
killed him. Yes. killed him; don't you
seer" was all she said when they
spoke to her; SO she was taken to San
Francisco, tried and sentenced-yes, SEN
fenced to prison cell for life, for the
cruel murder of her fatherl Such is the
usual justice of our land. She never fall
tered, never wavered through all the slow
fortunes of those terrible days. shielding
the man she loved at the price of her own
soul, bowling her glorious head to the ac-
cursed blow, bearing the ignominy and
deathless shame of crime, simply, that
the one she loved-and who deserted her
might live on in honor and escape the
storm; for she saw me, saw her lover, |
strike the fatal blow
"And she, does she still live?" gasped |
out. as the lawyer paused a moment to |
pour out glass of wine
the sentence was pronounced. and was
carried across the street to the hospital, |
where she died the next night went /
over to see her there. and, Just as the sun |
went down she half rose up, put out her |
hand, as II reaching toward some one in |
the dark, murmured a name, and then fell |
back, asleep!"
"a namel What namef' whispered |
for my voice had deserted me, and he was
watching me. quizzically. if not suspi
ciously.
what name2 Why, strangely enough,
1t was your own," he said, and then:
Good God, Jasper, what's the matter,
mani Here, drink this and come out into |
the air!"
l drank the brandy he poured out for
me; followed him out into the sunshine
that has ever since been to my soul but O
shadow; out among the jangling bells of
the songs and merry laughter of this
great, busy world, only to hear ever,
amidst it all, the dying meanings of the
woman that loved.
So have l lived, doing what little l
could In my own strange way, to drag out
q life. burdened with this double curse of
Cain, without drawing any other human
heart within the awful shadow of nv sin.
And SO, tonight, as the great sun goes
down behind the purple Hill tops, / stretch
out my hands into the darkness, and,
hers, made clean by this, my
true confession, of any shade of guilt, or
shame, turn my tired face toward the
waiting stars, and with her own sweet
name upon my dying breath, go to meet
her in that ''land beyond. IS. Werdan
IN American Magazine.