San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1891-06-15

me. There are times In a mans life
when mere physical feeling grows numb
under the pressure of intense mental ag-
ony-when the indignant soul, smarting
with the experience of some vile injus-
tice, forgets for little its narrow and
poor house of clay. Some such mood
was upon me then, suppose, for in the
very act of walking l was almost uncon-
scious of movement. An awful solitude
seemed to encompass me-a silence of my
own creating. l fancied that even the
angry elements avoided me as passed;
that there was nothing, nothing in
all the wide universe but my
self, and dark brooding horror
called Vengeance. All suddenly, the
mists of my mind cleared; moved no
longer in a deaf, blind stupor. A flash
of lightning danced wildly before my
eyes, followed by crashing peal of
thunder; | saw to what end of a wild
journey l had come. Those heavy gates
that underlined stretch of land-thOse
ghostly glimmers of motionless white
like spectral milestones emerging from
the gloom--I knew it all too well-it was
the cemetery! ] looked through the
iron palisades with the feverish interest
rise on the last scene of a tragedy. The
lightning sprang once more across the
sky, and showed me for a brief second
the distant marble outline of the Romani
vault. There the drama began-where
would it end? Slowly, slowly there
fitted into my thoughts the face of my
lost child-tbe young, serious face as it
had looked when the calm, preternatur-
ally wise smile of Death had
rested upon it; and then a Gu
rious feeling of pity possessed me-
pity that her little body should
be lying stiffly out there, not in the
vault. but under the wet sod, in such a
relentless storm of rain. l wanted to
take her up from that cold couch-to
carry her to some home where there
should be light and heat and laughter
to warm her to life again with my arms;
and as my brain played with these fool
ish fancies, slow hot tears forced them
selves into my eyes and scalded my
cheeks as they fell These tears relieved
mc-gradually the tightly-strung tension
of my nerves relaxed, and / recovered my
usua! composure by degrees. Turning
deliberately away from the reckoning
grave-stones | walked back to the city
through the thick of the storm, this time
with an assured step and knowledge
of where | was going. ] did moi
reach my hotel till past midnight;
but this was not late for Naples,
and the curiosity of the fat French hall.
porter was not so much excited by the
lateneSS o: my arrival as by the disorder
OF my dress.
"Ah, heaven!" he cried; that Mon.
sieur the distinguished, should have been
in such storm all unprotected! Why
did not Monsieur send for his carriage%
lieut. short his ordinations by dropping
five francs into his every-ready hand, as
surfing him that had thoroughly enjoy
ed the novelty of walk in bad weather,
whereat he smiled and congratulated me
as much as he had just commiserated
me. On reaching my own rooms, my
valet Vincenzo stared at my dripping
and dishevelled condition, but was dis
creetly mute. He quickly assisted me
to change my wet clothes for warm
dressing gown, and then brought glass
Of mulled port wine, but performed these
duties with such an air of unbroken
gravity that l was inwardly amused
while | admired the fellows reticence.
When l was about to retire for the night,
tossed him Napoleon. He eyed it
mgsingly and inquiringly then he
asked
"Your Excellency desires to purchase
something's"
"Your silence, my friend, that is all!'
replied with laugh. understand
me, Vincenzo, you will serve yourself
and me best by obeying implicitly, and
asking no questions. Fortunate is the
servant who, accustomed to see his mas
ter drunk every night, swears to all out
Siders that he has never served so sober
and discreet a gentleman! That is your
character, Vincenzo-keep to it, and we
shall not quarrel" He smiled gravely,
and pocketed my piece of gold without
word-like a true Tuscan as he was.
The sentimental servant whose fine feel
ings will not allow him to accept an ex-
ira Tip" is, you may be sure, hum
bug. never believed in such an one.
Labour can always command its price,
and what so laborious in this age as to
be honest? What so difficult as too keep
silence on other peoples affairs? Such
herculean tasks deserve payment!
valet who is generously bribed, in addi-
ton to his wages, can be relied on;if under
paid, all heaven and earth will not per-
suade him to hold his tongue. Left
alone, at last, in my sleeping chamber, L
remained for some time before actually
going to bed. took off the black spec
tacles which served me so well, and
looked at myself in the mirror with
some curiosity. l never permitted Vim
lcenzo to enter my bedroom at night, or
before l was dressed in the morning,
lest he should surprise me without these
sppendages, which were my chief dis
guise, for, in such case, l fancy even
his studied composure would have given
way. For, disburdened of my smoke
coloured glasses, l appeared what