Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1888-05-25

| lOr OF Ola tncY RrunJcu 10 unc SOlulCr newly
wed his one year OF exemption And
Carl was too 10th to turn his back upon
this paradise, TO make rcmonstrancc 1t
was Kates prayer and hope thut rs tho
year sped, an end might be made of the
cruel strife and her lover be spared
the descent into ''thc mouth of
hell" with its bclching flames and
sulphurous smoke, from whence 80 many
never returned. The year wore away, but
the war went on. Tho village streets grew
quictcr, the mourning weeds were abun-
dant and the news of slaughter yet more
terrible. Carl's face grew troubled; Mt last
he spoke again: "Dear, II you hold me
back by your love, and into our after para
disc of home should come this serpent
Shame, to wrlthe about me, neither thou
nor could escape its stingn She heard
| and knew his resolve was taken Her lips
grew cold and tremulous, and lay still and
| unresponsive beneath his kiss, Carl"
she whispered, presently, "when do YOU
| leave mem Tomorrow" he said.
"To-morrow, She echoed his words as
II they measured the whole span of re-
naming life.
All through that summer night they sat
| together hand in hand. Seldom they spoke,
and then but of the trifles of tho minute; of
| the midnight stiffness or the morning chill
| They kept such vigil as wife and husband
might keep beside the cofllned form of a
| first-born child. Something new had come
| into life rather than something gone out of
| IL. Their cup was fuller by one bitter drop,
and all the draught was saddcr and sweeter
for the fulncss.
At dawn they parted and for ever Thorc
came n time when letters ceased, when
days and weeks of anxious waiting would
havo rendered any news acceptable But
Carl disappeared utterly and left no trace.
For long she lived on the hope that he
might come back when the prisons
opened their doors. The war ended,
life began TO flow back into the old
long dried channels, but word of Carl
there was uonc. A slow and subtle
change began to be wrought in Kate, by
disappointment. She who had loved all
things, came to hate with bitter hate the
very namc of the South. That name was to
her the name of the murderess who had
slain her love. The turbulence of an un-
quiet spirit made the olden divine whis-
pcrings less and less audible. God seemed
remote; prayer, the useless wall of II neg
lcctcd child So passed nearly fifteen
years. Aunt Ruth died and Kate lived on
| alone with the old servant whose connec-
tion with the household antcdated her carli-
est recollection, 1t was toward the close of
| this period that Kate Wilton became
attracted to Spiritism A stranger had be-
come resident in the village and with all the
zeal of n propagandist she had sown the
seeds of her "ismn in every promising
! soil To Kate the possibility of hearing
| voice from beyond, above all his voice,
was enough to stir her nature to its depths.
| She became an easy convert, and was the
| first member of the growing circle that
held its weekly gatherings at the houses of
81, t,,s,
| its disciples. Many messages came to her,
and, in time, these left her altogether in
different to the loss of the quieter voices
she had been wont to hear and heed. She
| experienced strange extremes of feeling.
| Now she would be in ecstasy mt the thought
| of Carlis ncarness; again the ncarncss
would seem us mocking, us unreal, as intan-
| gible, as the materialized form she some
times gazed on. But an idea was slowly
| taking form in her mind. She had
so longcd to stand by his grave, to be able
to raise some memorial beiitting her love.
Here was something real and definite to
seek and work for. Why might not these
| spirit powers guide her in n quest for his
resting place The burden of all her qucs-
tions of the racle grew to be- Tell me
where they have lain him. At last, an
| answer seemed to come back which, with
| out being definite, as she desired, gave her
! assurance that when she stood by her
| lovers grave, she should grow conscious
! of the nearness of the precious dust whose
shrine she sought. So it came to pass that
| in her thirty fourth year, sac turned her
| face to the land of the people she
loathed and went on n apilgrimaE.e to seek the
sepulchcr of the man she loved. At the
| first strange excitement filled her She
felt as if she was going TO keep an appointed
| wi mt in hRr pN
citement wore away; her step grow heavier
and her frame more langud, in those long
months of pilgrimage. Many an eye fol-
| lowed her furtively, rs she walked among
the graves that rolled like sea pillows
about her. Many sympathetic wish hoy
| cred, unrecognized, above her, rs she
stopped to lay handful of flowers ON some
unnamed grave, From place to place she
| journeyed seeking the sign that never
came. She grew nervous; sleep and appe-
tte failed her, but not her courage. She
| was in Virginia now, and took the train at
| length to come to Fredericksburg. The
spring was here; the air was full of it,
| She vaguely wondered if it was this
that gave her such n feeling of languor and
made her so drowsy. Occasionally, as she
| lifted her heavy lids, she became conscious
| of the watchful gaze of n pair of keen,
| dark eyes. She wondered vaguely If any
thing was amss in her attire to attract at
tention, and lapscd again into drowsiness,
the flush of fever deepening on her check.
Presently the conductor passed through
| the car, and the owner of the dark eyes,
who was also the owner of an empty sleeve,
| touched his arm and engaged him in Il
whispered conversation, which, from their
glances, concerned the sleeping lady. In
II moment or two the conductor took the
vacant scat at her side, and, after Address
ing her twice without response, shook her
her arm gently, with the result only
of causing her to open, for II moment, eyes
that seemed already too dull for seeing.
Another whispered conversation with the
dark-eyed gentleman whom the conductor
courteously addressed as Colonel, and n lit
| tie later, when the train stopped at Holly
Springs, Colonel and conductor together
half led and half lifted the fevcred trav-
eler from the train, into waiting carriage
which presently rolled away into the dusk
And that was the end of Kate Wilton's