The Neihart herald. [volume] (Neihart, Mont.) 1890-1901, 1892-11-19
neart of mine! Delight OF all uIIo

amazed. Alas, so changed! The req anu
yellow silk shawl still covered hersfloul-
Gers; her hair still hung in those eldrltch
curls. But the beautiful face had grIwl,
wan and tired, and across the toreheaa
were drawn lines like silver threads. one
threw her arms around my neck, ana
pressing her bosom heavily on mine
sobbed so ~piteously that | grew AFRAID
for her and drew back the long masses
of hair which had fallen forward, ana
kissed again and again those lips thai
were too lovely for smile. Never came
q word Of Gliding from them. Love"
she said, when she had regained hel
breath, "the past struggle was sharp ana
torturing--the future struggle VIII De
crueler still. What q great love yours
was to wait and trust for so long! Would
that mine had been as powerful! POOR
weak heart that | could not endure!'
The tones of a wild fear throbbed
through all her speech strongly, but YET
with insufficient power to prevent hel
from feeling the tenderness OF those mo
ments. Often tilnorously raising hel
head from my shoulder she looked
around. and then turned with a SOFT,
iDarticulate and glad murmur TO NICE
her face on my bosom. | spoke fcr-
yently; told of the years spent away
from her; how, when working III the
diamond fields, she had eve been pres
ent in my fancy; how at night her name
had fallen from my lips in my only
PRAYER; now | had dreamed Of her among
the greatest in the land-the richest
and | dare swear the lOveliest woman III
the world.
Igrcw warmer still. All the g%launess
which had been constrained for so long
now burst wildly from my lips; a myriad
of rich ideas resolved into words which,
being spoken, wove II long and deli
cious fit of passion. AS We stood to
gether the moon frightened and filled
the chamber with a light like the days.
The ridges of the surrounding moorland
stood out in sharp relief.
Rose drank in my declarations thirst
lily, but soon interrupted me with a
heavy sigh. Come away she said
softly. Il no longer live in this house.
You must stay with Inc tonight. This
place is so wretched now, for time, thai
in you and me has only strengthened
love. has wrought much ruin here"
Half leaning on me she led me from
the precincts of Breton hail. we
walked in silence over the waste thai
crowns the valley Of the Whltelands,
and being neal the verge OF the rocks
saw the great pine wood sloplnS Town
ward, lighted neal us 10y the moon, but
soon lost in density. Along the mysteri-
GUS line where the light changed into
gloom, intricate shadows Of Withered
summer bracken struck and recede1 Ill
q mimic battle. Before mp lay the
Priests cliff. The moo was yelled
here by q grove Of elms, whose ever
swaying branches alternately Increased
and lessened her brightness. TINS was
a place Of notoriety-a verltable Col
gotha-a haunt fit only for demons.
Murder and theft had been punished
here. and to this day fireside stories are
told Of evil ONE dancing around that
DTlltS CilClt, CdllSll5 ItbIlo PAtOh'N
from gibbeted bodies.
"Rose,"i whispered, "why have you
brought me here
She made 10 reply, but pressed hel
head more closely to my shoulder.
Scarcely had my lips closed than 4
sound like q hiss of a half strangled
snake vibrated among the trees. 1t grew
louder and louder. A monstrous shadow
lowered above.
Rose from my bosom murmured
Love is strong as death! Love is strong
as DEATH"
that she grew breathless. Hold me-
she painted. You are strong
A cold hand touched our foreheads, sc
that benuinbed we sank together to the
ground, to fall instantly into a dream
less slumber.
When | awoke the clear gray light OF
the early morning had spread over the
country. Beyond the hall garden the
sun was just bursting through the
clouds and had already spread a long
golden haze along the horizon. The
babbling Of the streamlet that runs down
to Halkton was so distinct that it seemed
almost at my side. How sweetly the
wild thyme smelled! Filled with the ten
der r~ecollections Of the night, without
turning | called Rose Pascal from her
sleep.
Sweetheart, sweetheart, waken! wax
en-. waken! See how glad the world
looks-see the omens Of a happy future!'
No answer came. | sat up, and look
ing around me saw that | was alone. A
square stone lay near. When the sun
was high l crept to read the inscription
| carved thereon. Here, at four cross
paths, lieth, with a stake through the
bosom, the body Of Rose Pascal, who i'll
her sixteenth year willfully cast away
The life God gave.'-R. Murray Gil
christ in National Observer.