Baxter Springs news. [volume] (Baxter Springs, Kan.) 1882-1919, 1891-11-07
even 30 ] wen' forth to meet my fate
-. aud lef; b RI .


Unrecognized. untracked, departed
from Naples Wrapped In my cloak, and
stretched In sort Of heavy stupor on
the deck Of the Rondinella, my appear
ance apparently excited no suspicion In
the mind OF the skipper, old Antonio
Bardi, with whom my friend Andrea
had made terms for my voyage, little
aware Of the real identity OF the passen-
ger he recommended.
The morning was radiantly beautiful.
the sparkling waves rose high on tip
toe TO kiss the still boisterous wind
the sunlight broke In q wide smile OF
spring-tide glory over the world! With
the burden OF my agony upon me,-with
the utter exhaustion OF my over
wrought nerves. beheld all things
Ia feversh drcam,-thc laughing
light, the azure ripple Of waters,-the re-
ceding line OF my native shores, -every-
thing was blurred, indistinct and unreal
to me, though my soul. Arguseyed. In
cessantly peered down. down into those
darksome depths where sho lay, silent
forever. For now knew she was dead
Fate had killed her-not !. All unre-
pentant rs she was, triumphing In her
treachcry TO the last, even In her mad
ness, would have saved her, though
she strove to murder me.
Yet 1. was we'll the stone had fallen
|. who knows!. II she had
lived!. i strove not to think OF her,
aud drawing tho key OF the vault from
pocket, let II drop with sullen splash
into the waves. All was over-no one
pursued memo one inquired whittier l
went arrived ut Civita Vecch-
10 unqnest.oacd; from thence
l travelled to Leghorn, where
I embarked on board mer.
chant trading vessel bound for South
America. Thus l lost myself to the
world: thus became, as IL zero, buried
alive for the second time. am safely
sepulchrcd in these wild woods, and l
seek no escape.
| Wearing tho guise Of o rough settler,
one who works In common with others,
hewing down tough parasites and poison
Gus undergrowths In order to affect o
clearing through these painless solitudes,
Lone can trace IN the strong stern man,
with the careworn face and white hair,
my resemblance to the once popular and
wealthy Count OLIVIA. whose disappear
| ance. so strange and sudden, was
for time the talk Of all Italy. For, on
one occasion when visiting the nearest
town, / saw an article In a newspaper,
headed Mysterious Occurrence In Ma
| ples," and read every word OF II with
sensation Of dull amusement
From II l learned that the Count Olivia
was advertised for. His abrupt depart
ure, together with that Of his newly mar
rIed wife, formerly Contessa Romani. on
the very night OF their wedding, had
created the utmost excitement In the
city. The landlord OF the hotel
where he stayed was prosecuting
inquiries-so was the counts for
ner valet, one Vincenzo Flamma Any
information would be gratefully rc-
ceived by the police authorities II with
| In twelve months no news were obtained,
the immense properties Of she Romani
| family, in default OF existing kindred,
| would be handed over to the Crown.
There was much more to the same CT
feet, and l read 1t with the utmost In
difference Why do they not search the
Romani vault? -. thought gloom
| uy,-Llel WOu'u uuo SOhhO oNshSh
| tic inform alton there! But know the
Neapolitans well; they are timorous and
suparstitious; they would as soon hug q
pestilence as explore q charnel house
| One thing gladdened me; II was the pro-
jected disposal OF my fortune. The
| Crown, the Kingdom Of Italy, was surely
| rs noble an heir as man could have! l
returned to my woodland but with Q
strange peace on my soul.
As | told YOU II first, / am dead
man,-the world, with its busy life and
aims, has naught to do with me. The
tall trees, the birds, the whispering
grasses are nv friends and my compan-
ions,-they. and they only, are soSle-
| times the silent witnesses OF the tortur-
ing fits Of agony that every now and
then overwhelm mo with bitterness.
For suffer always. This Is natural
Revenge ia sweet!-but who shall paint
the horrors Of memory? NV vengence
now recoils upon my own head. do
not complain Of this,-it Is the law OF
compensation-lt Is just l blame no
| one.-save Her, the woman who
wrought my wrong. Dead as she
Is do not forgive her; l have
tried to, but l cannot! Do men ever
truly forgive the women who ruin their
lives? doubt It. AS for me, feel
that the end is not yet that
when my soul Is released from It's earthly
prison, / shall DO doomed In some drear
dim way to pursue her treacherous fit
ting spirit over the black chasms Of a
hell darker than Dante's-she In the
likeness Of o wandering flannel IS her
haunting shadow-ehe, flying before ma
in coward fear-I, hasting after her In
relentless wrath-and this for ever and
| everl
But ask no PITY need none !
punished the guilty, and In doing so SUI
iered more than they-that ia as 1t must
always be. have no regret and no re
morse; only one thing troubles me-one
little thing mere foolish fancy!
II comes upon me in the night
when the large-iaced moon looks
-