San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1891-05-22

factory conclusion. Stay, though! l
remembered that had told the monk
my name-he knew that | was the only
descendant of the rich Romani family.
What followed? Why, naturally, the
good father had only done what his duty
called upon him to do. He had seen me
laid in the vault of my ancestOrs-the
great Romani vault that had never been
opened since my fathers body was car
ried TO it's last resting place with all the
solemn pomp and magnihcence OF
wealthy nobleman's funeral obsequies.
The more thought of this the more
probable it seemed. The Romani vault!
Its forbidding gloom had terrified me as
a lad when | followed my fathers coffin
to the stone niche assigned to il, and
l had turned my eyes away in Shuddering
pain when l was told to look at the
heavy oaken casket hung with tattered
velvet, and Ornamented with furnished
silver, which contained all that was left
of my mother, who died young. / had
felt sick and faint and cold, and had
only recovered myself when | stood out
again in the free air with the blue dome
of heaven high above me. And now |
was shut in the same vault-a prisoner
with what hope of escape? reflected.
The entrance to the vault, remembered,
was barred by heavy door of closely
twisted iron, thence a flight of
steep steps led dOwnwards-dOwnw
to where in all probability | now was.
Suppose | could in the dense darkness
feel my way to those steps and climb up
to that dOOr-Of what avail? Ii was
loCked-nay, barred-and as it was stu
uated in remote part OF the burial
ground, there was no likelihood of even
the keeper of the cemetery passing by
it for dayS-perhapS not for weeks.
Then must | Starve? Or die of thirst?
Tortured by these imaginingS | rose up
from the pavement and stood erect. My
feet were bare, and the cold stone on
which stood chilled me to the marrow.
1t was fortunate for me, | thought that
they had buried me as cholera
corpSe-they had left me half
clothed for fear of infection. That is,
had my flannel shirt on and my usual
walking trousers. Something there was,
too. round my neck; felt it, and as |
did so a flood of sweet and SorrOwful ,
memories rushed over me. 1t was
slight gold chain, and on it hung a
locket containing the portraits of my
wife and child. l drew it out in tho
darkness; covered it with passionate
kisses and tears,--the first | had shed
since my death-like trance-tearS scald-
ing and bitter welled into my eyes. Life
was worth living while Nina's smile
lightened the world! l resolved to fight
for existence, no matter what dire hor-
rors should be in store for me. Nina,
my love-my beautiful one. Her face
cleaned out upon me in the pestilent
gloom of the .charnel house; her eyes
beckoned me-her young faithful eyes
that were now, | felt sure, drowned in
weeping for my supposed death. l
seemed to see my tender-hearted darling
sobbing alone in the empty silence of the
room that had witnessed a thousand en-
braces between herself and me; her
lovely hair dishevelled; her sweet pale
face and haggard with the bitterness of
grief Baby Stella, too, no doubt she
would wonder, poor innocent! why l
did not come to swing her as usual uns
der the orange boughs. And Guido
brave and true friend! Thought of him
with tenderness. felt l knew how
deep and lasting would be his honest re-
greet for my loss Oh, would leave no
means of escape untried; would find
some wav out OF this grim vault How
Continued on seventh I sge.