The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1889-10-11


took them again, the tiny futter-
own warm clasp.
Il am so glad you have come" she
said in a sweet, plaintive voice; u
have waited so long for one brave
enough to come here alone that
might tell them my story" She
paused. Suddenly she sprang TO her
feet and said in fierce, intense whis-
per:
"His grave. his gravel Have you
seen it?'
His graveP Whose grave, dearP
Be calm"
1t came to me at once, seeing this
creature and hearing her questions.
1 knew only too well that the dis
honored grave of Crayle Brau-Wylleen
in the old, disused, desolate cemetery
near Weir Heights was the one to
which she referred, but L caressed
the slight shrinking form and waited.
''Crayle Brau-Wylleen's, she an
swered me, hoarsely, and then she
broke into torrent of sobs and tears.
Presently she grew calm. He
never did itr' she said, firmly. at
was all false, bitter lie He made
me jealous, ard vowed revenge. /
wrote those cruel letters and
sprinkled the blood of a favorite
hound (whose life l took) about my
bed and over the floor and door
steps" She shrieked and groaned
and continued: They thought he
murdered his young wife; but no. she
lived to see him hanged. Ali re-
venge was sweetr' She uttered
the marrow in my bones. Rising, l
hastily thrust her from me.
Don't, don'tr' she moaned. pite-
ously. "If you only knew what /
have suffered. how 1 have atoned."
Then raising her dark eyes heaven
ward, Even such as He forgives."
l took her 10 my heart again. 1t
was not for me to judge.
Il could not rest in my grave" she
went on, her long, light hair falling
about her beautiful shoulders like a
leecy cloud, her bosom heaving with
emotion. You must clear his name
from all stain. Crayle Brau-Wylleen
was as guiltless as you of any crime.
1t was my hot-headed, jealous nature
that did it all. -
She paused and uufastened a single
white rose that nestled in the folds of
silE and lace upon her bosom and
pressed it into my palm.
Here, take this. and let it prove
for me that l am speaking the truth"
The delicate perfume OF the fragrant
flower seemed 10 fill the air about us
and intoxicated me with its sweetness
l raised my eyes dreamily to the dark
orbs bending above me-
Promise me, murmured the beau
tifuI lips.
Il promise" l answered. with diff
Guilty, as the dense fragrance seemed
to overpower me.
White, pink and blue clouds ap-
peared TO encircle fair, vanishing
form, a sound as of many harps and
singing voices fingered upon the air.
and then came the slow, muffled beat
ing of a drum. Nearer and nearer it
came, louder and louder, and with the
shrin tones of voices and the wild
neighing OF horse
BLACK Dick!' l awoke with a
Start Had l been sleeping and dream
ingP The sun was shining in through
q crevice in the old stone wall The
lamp stood on the floor by my side,
the oil burned entirely out OF it
1 recognized the voices OF friends at
the door, and, feeling dazed and be-
wildered. arose to meet them; as
did so something fell upon the floor at
my feet
Pausing, looked down.
A single white rosel l picked up
the frail, beautiful thing reverently.
and subtle awe stole over me. 1t
must have been true.
You frightened US all nearly to
death" came a clamor of voices.
The idea OF falling asleep in this
haunted castle. "
Talk about nervesI Why, yours
must be iron bound"
did not smile-how could l? and
they jol1ed me numerically all the
way home, and BLACK Dick, poor
patient fellow, stood at his post all
the long night through. He licked
my hand and nestled his great head
on my shoulder as 1 unfastened him
and led him out of the old yard and
sprang into the saddle unassisted.
1t was nearly noon when we
reached Weir Heights, and l for one
was very hungry. After dinner, when
l had rested, 1 gathered my friends
about me and told them the story OF
the night before at Wylleen.
There was much laughing and chaff-
ing, but my subdued air impressed the
susceptible ones not a little, and when
from the depths of my sachel / brought
forth the wilted white rose, still dcwy
with fragrance, a silence fell upon all.
That surely was proof, and it went
abroad far and near, these wonderful
tidings, resulting in the removal OF
Crayle Brau-W ylleen's bones to his
home-tomb in far-distant lands, and
still carefully boarded among my most
precious treasures the faded white
rose OF Brau-Wylleen. Mrs s. C.
Hazlett, in Detroit Free Press.