San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1891-05-26


were parched and burning as with fever.
"A white-haired fisherman" That was
me! The King had said so. Mechanic
ally looked down at the clothes l wore
the former property of suicide. He
was a fool" the vendor of them had said,
''he killed himself"
Yes, there was no doubt of it
he was fool. | would not follow his
example, or at least not yet
had something to do first-something
my way clear to it. Yes
If / could only see my way and
follow it straightly, resolutely, re-
morselessly! My thoughts were con-
fused, like the thoughts Of fever
stricken man in delirium the
scent of the rose-leaves l held sickened
me strangely,-yet would not throw
them from me; no, would keep them to
remind me of the embraces / had wit
messed! i felt for my purse; found and
opened it, and placed the whitening red
petals carefully within it. As slipped
it again into my pocket | remembered
the two leathern pouches | carried-the
one filed with gold, the other with the
Jewels l had intended for her.
My adventures in the vault required to
me: l smiled as | recOllected the dire
struggle | had made for life and liberty.
Life and libertv!-of what use were they
to me now, save for one thing-revenge?
/ was not wanted; l was not eX-
pected back to refill my former
place on earth the large fortune
l had possessed was now my wife's
by the decree of my own last will and
testament. which she would have no
difficulty in proving. But still, wealth
was mine-the hidden stories of the
brigandS were sufficient to make any
man more than rich for the term of his
natural life. AS / considered this a sort
of dull pleasure thrObbed in my veins.
Money! Anything could be done for
money-gold would purchase even VEN
geance. But what sort of vengeance?
Such a one as / sought must be unique
refined, relentless, and complete.
pondered deeply. The evening wind
blew freshly up from the sea; the leaves
of the swaying trees whispered myster-
iously together; the nightingales war
bled on with untired sweetness; and the
moon, like the round shield of an angel
warrior, shown brightly against the
dense blue background of the sky.
Needless of the passing of hours, / sat
still. lost in a bewildered reverie.
There was always false note some
where when he sang" SO'she had said,
laughing that little laugh of hers as
cold and sharp as clash OF steel.
True, true; by all the majesty OF heaven,
most true! There was indeed false
note-jarring, not so much the voice, as
the music of life itself. There is stuff in
all of us that will weave, and we desire
it, into a web Of stately or simple har-
mony; but let the meteor-like brilliancy
of woman's smile-a woman's touch-a
woman's life-intermingle itself with the
strain, and 10! the false note is struck,
discord declares itself, and God Himself,
the great Composer can do nothing in
this life to restore the old calm tune of
peaceful, unspoilt days! So have found:
so all of you must find, long before you
and sorrow grow old together.
"A white haired fisherman
The words of the king repeated them
selves over and over again in my tor
tured brain. Yes. l was
greatly changed, l looked worn
and old no one would recog-
nize me for my former self. All at once,
with this thought, an idea occurred to
me, a plan of vengeance, so bold, so new,
aud withal so terrible that / started
from my seat as though stung by an ad-
der, | paced up and down restlessly,
with this lurid light of fearful revenge
pouring in on every nook>and Granny of
my darkened mind. From whence had
come this daring scheme! What devil,
or rather what angel Of retribution had
whispered it to my soul? Dimly i won
dered but amid all my wonder
/ began practically to arrange the de-
tails of my plot l calculated every
small circumstance that was likely to &C.
cur in the process of carrying il out. My
stupefied senses became aroused from
their lethargy of despair, and stood up
like soldiers, on the alert, armed TO the
teeth. Past love, pity, pardon, pa
tience--pooh! what were all these
resources of the worlds weaklingS
to me? What was it to me that
the bleeding Christ fOrgave His enemies
in death?-He never loved woman!
Strength and resolution returned to me-
Let common sailors and rag-pickers re-
sort to murder and suicide as fit outlets
for their unreasoning brute wrath when
on9ed-but as for me, why should l
blot my family Scutcheon with merely
vulgar crime? Nay the vengeance of a
Romani must be taken with assured
calmness and easy deliberatiOn-no
haste, no plebeian fury, no etfeminate
fuss, no excitement walked up and
down slowly, meditating on every point
of the bitter drama in which l had re-
solved to enact the chief part, and from
the rise to the fall of the black curtain.
The mists cleared from my brain-l
breathed more easily-my nerves stead
led themselves by degrees-the prospect
of what purposed doing satisfied me
and Gained the fever in my blood. /
became perfectly cool and collected. l