Waterbury evening Democrat., 1888-09-12

waited for me to speak, sat down facing her and began my story.
 I told it through, without suppression or concealment, from the time when my father started to seek the treasure down to the cow ardly blow that had taken my friends life. During the whole narrative she never took her eyes from my face for more than mo- ment. Once only she interrupted me. was repeating the conversation between her father and Simon Colliver upon Dead Mans Rock. You are quite sure," she asked, "of the words? You are positive he said, Captain, it was your knife'?'
 Certain" answered sadly.
 You are giving the very words they both used?'
 ''As we'll as I can remember; and have cause for good memory"
 'Go On," she replied simply.
 So I unrolled the whole chronicle of our un- hrppv fatcs and even read to her Lucy Rail tons letter which 1 had brought with me. Then, as I ceased, for q full minute we sat in absolute silence, reading each others gaze.
 Let mo see the letter." she said, and held out her hand for it.
 I gave it to her. She read it slowly through and handed it back.
 Yes, it is my mothers letter." she said, slowly.
 Then again silence fell upon us. I could
  and the beating of my own heart that raced and outstripped it. That was all; until at length the slow, measured foOtfall of the timepicce grew maddening to hear
 1 could stand it no longer.
 Claire, tell me that this will not, cannot alter you, that you are mine as you were be- fore"
 This is impossible" she said, very gravely and quietly.
 impossible? Oh no, no; do not say that You cannot, you must not say that"
 ''IeS. JaSpcr,' she repeated and her face was pnllid as snow; ''it is impossible"
 But as 1 heard my doom I arose and fought it with d blank despair.
 "Claire, you do not know what you are say ing. You love me, Claire: you have told me so, and l love you ts my very soul. Surely, then, you will not say this thing. How were We to know? How could We have told? Oh, Claire! is il that you do not love me?'
 Her eyes were full of infinite compassion nnd tenderness, but her lips were firm and cold.
 You know that I love you"
 ''Thcn, oh, my love! how can this come be- tween Us? What does i; matter that our fathers fought and killed each other if only love? Furly, surely Heaven cannot fix the seal of this crmeunon us forever? Speak, Claire, and tell me that you will be mine in spite of all! !"
 1t cannot br, she answered, very gently
 Cannot bel" echoed. "Thpn I was right ana you donot love but fancied that you cid for awhile. Love, love was that fair? No power on carth-no nor in hcavcn-shou!d have made me cast you off so.'
 Ny rage died out before the mute reprOarh of thos" lovely eyes. I caught the white hand
 Forgive m" Claire; was desperate, and knew not what was saying I know you love | n"-yOu have said sO.and you arc truth itself :; truth and all goodness. But if you have loved then you can love me still. Remember our text, Claire, love is strong as dcah.' Strong uS death, and can it be overcome so cas- ily?"
 She was trembling terribly. But though the suit eye spoke appealinG!y I could s"n h,lr!li all their anguish, an immutAbe resolve. No, Jasper; 1t can never be-ncvHr. Do you think am not suffering g-that it is nOtn- ing for me to lose you? Try to think better of me. On, Jasper, it is hard indeed for me and-l love you so.
 ''No, no, sine went on; " do not make the task harder for me? Why can you not curse me? l! would be ciiSjrr then. Why citH YOU no7 h.:tr nc as you ought? Oh if you would but ,:riHe me and go, I could better bear this; hour.'
 "Claire, will not give you up; not though Eou went on your knees and implOred it. D,;,th aon" can divide us now; and even death will never kill my love-"
 Death !" she answered, Think then that I am dead; think of me as under the mould. All, love hearts do not break so. easily. You would sreve at first, but in d little while 1 should be forgotten "Care! ?!
 Forgive mo- love; not forgotten. | wrongrd you when l said the word. Believe me Jasper, that if there be any gleam of day 1 in the blacknrS9 that surrounds mo it is the thought that you so love me; and yet it would have been far easier othcrwise-far easier" | Little by little my hope was slipping from me; bu; still strove with her as d man bat ties for his life. I raved. protested, called earth and heaven to witness her cruelty; but | in vain.
 Tt would be a sin-a horrible sim" she kept saying, God would never forgive it. | NO no: do not try to persuade melt is hor- rbe!' and she Shuddered.
 Utterly beaten at last by her obstinacy, I said
 Il will leave you now to think it over. Let nc call again and hear that you repent"
 No, love; We must never meet again. This must be our last goodbye. Stay" and she smiled for the first time since that meeting in ;hr cemetery, Come to Francesca tonight l am going to act. What to-night?"
 Yes, One must live, you see, even though one suffers. See, l have ticket for you-for 1 d box. You will come? Promise me-
 Never. Claire"
 ''Yes, promise me. Do me this last favor; shall never ask another"
 I took the card in silence.
 And now" she said, you may kiss me. Kiss me on the lips for the last time, and may God bless you, my love-"
 Quite calmly and gently she lifted her lips to mine and on her face was the glory of unut- | terable tenderness.
 Claire! My love, my lover My arms were round her, her whole form yielded help lessly 10 mine and as our lips met in that one passionate, shuddering caress, sank on my breast
 ''Iou will not leave me?" cried And through her sobs came the answer:
 Yes yes it must be, it must be-"
 Then drawing herself up she held out her hand and said
 '"To-night, remember, and so-farewell."
 And so, in the fading light of that grey December afternoon, I left her standing l there.
 Mad and distraught with the passion of that p,f,, r IL, I .Df