The Fort Worth gazette. (Fort Worth, Tex.) 1891-189?, 1891-04-02

they lie with that irrcgularity which comes
If symmetry destroyed, like columns and
files of soldiers shot down in the act of ad-
Vancing. And III winter the gray light falling
: upon the untrodden snow throws a pale re-
Election upwards against each stone, as
though from the myriad sepulchres u family
luminous vapor We're rising to the outer air.
Over all. the rugged brushwood and the
sIEnted trees INTERVENE their leafless
branches and twigS in a thin, ghostly net
work OF gray. that clouds the view OF the
farther distance without interrupting it. a
forest of shadowy skeletons claspiug flesh
less, oony hanCs one with another, from
gave 10 grave, as far as the eye can see
The Stiffness in the place is intense. Not
= murmur OF distant life from the surround
lng city disturbs the silence. At rare in
tervalS strong breath of icy wind stirs the
dead branches and makes them crack and
rattle against the graveStoneS and against
each other as in 4 dance of death. 1t is
Wild and dreary place. In the summer in
deed, the thick LEAKAGE lends il a transitory
color and softness, but in the depth of win
Ter, when there is nothing TO hide the
uahcdneSS Of the truth. when the snow
lies thick upon the ground and the twined
jWlgS and twisted trunks scarce cast a
lfacary OF shadow under the sunless sky,
The utter desolation and loneliness of the
spot have horror of Their own, not to be
described. but never to be forgotten.
Cnorna walked forward in Silence. choos-
in@ path 50 narrow that her COMPANION
found himself obliged 10 drop behind and
follow in her footsteps. In the widest
part OF this wilderness of death there is a
little rising Of ground. Here both he
gravestoneS and the stunted trees are thick
est and the solitude is, if possible, even
more complete than elsewhere. AS she
reached the highest point Unorna stood
still. turned quickly towards the Wanderer
prE4 4 l., l., L..
Il have chosen this place because it is
quiet, she said with 4 soft smile.
hardly knowing why he did so, he laid
his hands i'll hers and looked kindly down TO
her uptuIned face.
What is it, he asked, meeting her eyes.
She was silent, and her fingers did not
mclaSp themselves. He looked 1t her. and
Very beautiful. There was i faint color in
her cheeks, and her full lips We're just
parted as though loving word had escaped
them which she would not willingly recall.
Against the background of broken neutral |
tnts, her figure stood out. an incarnation of |
youth and vitality. If she had often looked |
weary ana poor of late, her strength and |
freshness had returned to her now in all |
their abundance The Wanderer knew |
that he was watching her, and knew. that |
he was thinking Of her beauty and realizing |
the whole extent Of it more fully than ever
before, but beyond this point his thoughts |
could not go. He was aware that he was
becoming fascinated by her eyes, and he
tatt that with every moment it was growing
harder for MIN to close his own. or to look
away from her, and then, an instant later,
he knew that it would be impossible Yet
he made no effort. He was passive. in |
different, will-less, and her gaze charmed
him more and more. He was already
in 4 dream, and he fancied that the
beautiful figure shone with soft, ROSY
light of its own in the midst of the gloomy
waste. Looking into her sunlike eyes, he
saw there twin images of himself that
lrew him softly and surely into themselves
until he was absorbed by them and felt
hat he was no longer reality but reflec-
Ion. Then deep Inconsistencies stole
)ver all his senses and he slept or passed
nto that state which seems to lie between
sleep and trance.
Unorna needed not to question him this
inc. for she saw that he was completely |
luder her influence. Yet she hesitated ut |
he supreme moment. and then. though TO
~ real intents she was quite alone, a burn |
ng flush Of shame rose to her face, and her |
.eart sank within her. She felt that she
ould not do it.
She dropped his hands. They fell to his |
ldeS as though they had been of lead.
men she turned from him and pressed her
chlng forehead against tall weather
worm stone that rose higher than her own |
lelght from the midst Of the hillock
her woman's nature rebelled against the :
rlCh. II was the truest thing in her and
'efnaps the best, which protested SO yio-
entity against the thing she meant to do: i
was the simple longing to be loved for her -,
WI sake and of the mans own free will, |
o be loved by him with the love she had | {
espiseo IN Israel kafka- But would this