Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1888-02-08

uryto smile, but she remained serious.
sRaymond," said she, something has hap
pened. What is ita'
81 assure you, you are mistaken" said he,
taking her hands and pressing them to his
lips
aRaymo1d," sho continued gravely, 81
havo something to tell you, which will,
hope, be tho means Of consolidating our hap
piness."
Their happiness! Raymond sighed.
stYou sec" shc continued, ''my father has
also been searching for the real criminal, and
hethinEs, with much reason, that ho has dis
covered tho wretch. If that proves true
| Raymond, wo ore free to avow our love.
! Come with mo to Geo father before you go
home he will bo so glad to see you. Come
let us hurry. Then afterward we will 60 and
telIthe good news to your mother, who will
be 80 happy, too, Raymond-your mother
whom love so well already"
His mother! Ho withdrew his arm from
the light constraint Of her hand, and then
| Suzanne saw what she had not noticed before
that he was deathly pale and wan, and that
hecould not look her in the eyes.
| SssIn heavens name what has happened to
render you like thisr' said she, breathless with
fear.
Nothing"
"Hush, do not say that 1t is not true.
am afraid some new misery awaits us.
pray you tell me-"
II cannot 60 to your house now, Suzanne
| must 60 home first"
II will 60 with you and we can talk on the
way, and 1 can tell you all that has happened
and all that we hope"
"No, Suzanne, l shall be with my mother
all day, and at night must 60 back to Paris
Believe me, my dear Suzanne, dearer than
| life, that am not deceiving YOU"
'rell me the truth and will, even If il
costs my life."
"Suzanne, pray you do not question me
can only say our happiness is destroyed.
Our marriage can never take place. 1t would
be the greatest misery that ever fell upon two
people,"
"a great misery! 1t is but a little while
that you pretended to think it great happi-
ness. have been told that men are tickle.
know it now"
''But oh! best beloved Of women, am not
changed. I shall never change, but new
sorrow has overshadowed us, and it is one
which can never lift I pray you do not ask
me to say more; my heart is broken"
II believe you. So, then, it is q secret be-
tween us which you will not tell me, or cam
notf'
He lowered his head.
| "And this secret" she continued, 'is not
| yours, as mine was not mine. There must be,
then, something Of that sort that forces you
to keep up before me like silence, and that
stains the honor of some one of your family.
I see you cannot answer. and that from pale
you now blush red. Have divined!"
He Joined his hands in agony and held
them out to her in mute supplication.
Very well, Raymond. Now it is my time
to say, whatever the shame, whatever the
dshonor, love you, and shall still be proud
to hear your name You did not cast me off
when you learned the full measure Of my
woes. Tell me, then, Raymond, tell me
your secret. You are too noble and too
proud, so that this dishonor cannot be your
own, hut must hear, Raymond, just as you
heard me, so that I may consent or refuse.
Do you think I would refuse2
"Do not ask. Do not wish to know, and II
you did l should be the most unhappy Of
lnen. 1t is, alas! useless"
Raymond, are you tired of ME, and is this
subterfuge2 Please say so, if it is, though I
am willing, God knows, to suffer anything
| for you and with you. I do not wish you to
feel that am of the kind that urges their
| love upon another"
"This is more than cruel! My life, my
ioee and my souls idolatry are given to you,
and you only do or shall ever love-"
"Then since you love me, do not plunge my
whole life in one perpetual mourning. Leave
me little hope if you do not wish me to
| die"
"Adieu, Suzanne, my precious love!"
raymond, pray you reconsider Keep
your secret locked in your heart; l will
never ask it, never, I swear. l will never
think of it. Our happiness will be possible
again. Oh, Raymond, do not refuse. If
you knew how many tears have wept in
my lonely life since my childhood, and how
much want to know what peace and happi-
ness are"
The poor child had Raymond's hand and
she lifted it to her lips and kissed the fingers
one by one. Her sweet words came to his
ears like distant music, and his whole being
thrilled at that tender caress; but the sweet
| er it was the more was it his duty to leave
her and fly. And his happiness and hers
| could be secured so very easily. He had but
| to keep his awful secret and open his arms
| to become the husband Of the woman he
| loved. He had but to say one word, and he
made no sound or gesture, for at that mo-
ment he seemed to see in one flash OF light
that whole terrible drama. And his soul re-
volted at the thought of his wife, if he con-
| -. h. of h; ftar
| victim. He questioned his conscience no
more, for he knew he could not permit such
| an abominatlon.
RAYMOND drew back and with groan Of
| agony, the like of which she never heard. he
started and ran away from her and tempta-
ton as though pursued by demons; and she,
| Door girl, held out her hands after his re-
| treating figure, but he was gone. And when
she could sec him no more she fell swooning
upon the moss as if he had taken her life
with him. She lay thus like one dead
| for an hour, and when she regained her
serscs sho crept feebly home and to her bed,
where morning found her sick and suffering.
When Laroquc returned at night hc found
her very i'll, with every symptom of brain
fever. Tho physician ordered quiet, and said
that Lo feared sho had suffered some mental
shock.
That night in her delirium the unfortunate
father heard in diSjointed sentences enough
to inform him that Raymond had abandoned
her, and he determined to have ON explana-
ton with him, and to that end drove over tn
Meridon farm, and asked to SEQ Raymond
alone.
"You wish to speak to me, sir?" said Ray
mond
"Yes, NJ. Dc Nc;rvillc My daughter is
dangerously i'll, and in her delirium she let es-
cape her enough to convince me that though
we thought your marriage would soon take
place, you suddenly withdraw your promise.
Was that done on account Of my having been
adjudged guilty of nurder7'
mo, and know that in spite of that you
were tho most honest and loyal man in the
world, and I know that you have been very
unhappy"
"My daughter loves you end will die if you
desert her In remembrance of the friendship
which united your father and me, will you
tell me why you do this9 Why your sudden
changer
"Alas! sir, when / asked for tho honor of
her dear hand I did not know-that-
that
81 was IN escaped convict7'
"a convict! That, sir, did you honor under
the circumstances.
"Then what do you mean:"
"That-that You had been my mothers
lover"
Roger closed his eyes and shuddered, and
bowed his head in shame.
| f.,s1 H. .kol