The Ouachita telegraph. [volume] (Monroe, La.) 1865-1889, 1888-09-22

their condolences. The thought is ye
in her mind, wfeu she sees him vaut
down from his ''mschine," aud tn,
front gate slams behind him with all
mans blissfal disregard of other peo
pies nerves. She can hear that he l.
coming up the walk with his usua
quick step, which she would know il
u Thousand, and that he is whistlint
softly to himself with cheerful disre
gard of time or tune.
Suddenly as if shot, he stops, face Il
face with the pretty azure ghost in the
shadow of the cedals.
There ia a breathiess little cry in Miss
Bonbam's soft voice, but It strikes on
her e"r:f' kc the shock OF trumpe,
blast. 1t is
| .Paul!'
Angel's hands relax, all their gay
burden slips unhecded 10 the ground
The shock of terrible knowledge
makes her heart stand still for mo-
ment. When II starts again il ia unwil.
lingly, heavily.
With II violent effort she steadics her
self, the blood surges back from her
brain; she turns and runs as best she
can through the friendly twilight down
the road, never stopping until she
reaches the bridge spanning Owls
Creek. She catches aud ciinss to its
crazy railing and leans her head down
upon her hands with the sick, spent
feeling which follows great shock.
"But l love him tool love him
tool" her heart keeps crying within her
while she elinss to the railing and sobs
with dry, aching throat, her lips
begging Of the silence in an agony
of suppIicaiicn: "Oh, wha. shall l do
what shall dU?'
She lifts her head. AS she does 80 n
wave OF breathless joy ovcrsweeps the
pain tearing at her heart. 1t was just
there he stood last night, and what was
it he said?-"I have gone mad-I Tore
you!"'
The wave ebbs, leaving her again
faint and sick, and full of sense OF
dishonesty and shame. Slowly as if
steadyiug herself tor II blow, she draws
up her figure, her fingers curl inward
and elinch.
"But he shoU not" she says over to
herself again and again.
"lf only l had some one to belp me, :"
The snbs breaking off, and striking her
hands together with impotent helps
iessness. 'Everything is SO strange
and l am So ..lscrable."
With sudden blind faith she throws
herself on her knees and lifts her hands
pleadingIy, humbly, like little child
begging for mercy.
"Oh, God Oh, God! help me, help
me ="
She rises up with sweet, strange
peace creeping throughout her body
just as IL hurrying foot step strikes the
bridge.
l, IS Paul Westlake. He is very
pale, she can see by the white moon
light flooding mountain and valley.
He stops when within Il few feet OF
her, staggered by The face she turns on
him. The eyes are almost serene, and
her figure in its pretty white dress
with dropping poppies seems gloritied
with halo of tender moonlight.
81 hod TO come" he stamme,s, Eio
tell you that-that am not so vile as
you may think me. l just couldn',
help tit was fate"
lie comes Il step nearer and throws
out his arms in passionate appeal.
WITH the hand at her side curling and
clinching, Angel lifts the other, palm
outward toward him, stepping back.
ward white and pure and calm as the
moonlight itself.
81 swear to you," nc says soienluly,
rs his arms dropio his side, "thut |
never wilfully did an unmanly or
cowardly thing in my life. l im9'lore
you to believe me-"
A sweet, slow smile comes in her
eyes. Sac gathers up her white skirts,
damp and clinging with the heavy
dow, and turns toward the house.
Paul WestIake stands motionless in
the same attitude, and watches her.
The waters below him leap and laugh,
and dash themselves into foam. They
are 80 gay, so gay!
No where in Heaven nor earth is
there comfort for him. His heart Is
ovcttiowirg with all a mans bitter and
unrcasoning protest. when tie sees the
white figure pause at the further edge
of the bridge. Aud what is the message
which comes to him above the laugh
ing Of The waters in tho pretty soii
voice? 1t falls like oil on the troubled
waters nt his soul:
"a king
VII" hnnors his word as if it were his