Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1893-06-04

at a beautiful place called Napoli, where
she lived in peace, till, in an evil day,
she left it with Serge S~tephanovitch.
He brought her back with him to Pau
lovsk-she would have followed him to
Siberia. She was q good mother, aad
because she loved me l was an abomina-
tion and q plague spot in the eyes OF
| Serge -Stephanovitch. True, l was his
son, and as a father he chastised me,
knowing that he could make her suffer
most through me. So it vent on till
was a boy OF ten; then, one day he told
her that she was growing old and ugly
and might go IL she liked. That night
she cut her throat-it would have been
better had she cut his as WE'LL"
His low monotonous voice betrayed
not the smallest emotion. The Prince
had called him half mad;I wondered
whether he was so In reality. =
latter that" he continued, Serge
St%ephanovitch hated me more than
ever, for l reminded him Of the dead;
| therefore /, the son of the master, was
sent to work in the fields and treated
like a serf. Bot he soon left Paulovsk,
and when he returned l had grown into
a man and was betrothed to Sacha, the
daughter Of Ivan Dimitrief. he gave
his consent to our marriage. DE MADE
me fine promises, lying with smiling
lips, for my little Sacha, who was but
fifteen, had found favor In his eyes. he
sent for her three days before eur wed
ding day, and she came to the house
unsuspecting; in the evening, two days
later, he set her free. 1t was
the evening before our wedding
day. All night she raved and
moaned while 1 knelt beside her, and at
dawn she died"
uttered an exclamation or horror,
which Vassili did not seem to hear, and
then we were both silent. The vague
melancholy which l had felt before,
deepened and intensified by the old
mans CHASTITY story, weighed on me like
8 nightmare, and 1t was a relief when
a prosaic incident turned the current
Of my thoughts.
As we were approaching the village
I have mentioned Vassili noticed that
his horse had gone lame, and on dis
mounting to see what was the matter
| he found that it had lost a shoe. The
blacksmith's izba ,Vassili said, was the
first we should come to; would | be so
gracious as to wait there for a few min
utes until the loss was romsdied? The
blacksmith, as fate would have 1t, vas
drinking at the village tavern and his
wife had to go and fetch him. l was
not disposed to sit waiting in the stuffy
izba, and 1 proposed to Vassili that we
should walk up and down the outside.
We walked away from the village in
the direction of a little clumL OF birch
trees, and soon ! broke the silence by a
question which l had been bordering
over for some minutes past: "Since you
were free, and no ssrf of Prince Serge's,
why did you not leave PaUovsk?"
For a moment he did not answer;
his Keen ayes were fixed on the distant,
misty horizon. After she died l was
mad" he said, slowly. when | came
to myself | knew that 1 should be
avenged some day, and for that day l
waited. 1t was long, very long in COM
ing, and some times 1 grew impatient
aud longed to kill him, but the time
passed and still l waited; he had grown
very old, and my hair was white al,
ready before the blow fell. Serge
Stephanovitch loved his son Feodor as
much as II was in his power to love.
One evening the young man ar
rived Unexpectedly at Paulovsk
and though he. had been tray
cling all day and had scarcely
stopped to take food, the supper grew
cold on the masters table and the door
OF his room remained shut. Inside we
heard murmuriug voices, and at last,
suddenly, the voice OF Serge Stephano-
witch rising almost to q scream; then
the door opened and his son came
out. Pale as death he passed through
the room and 1 never saw him again.
Fresh horses were put into his carriage
and galloped off with him into the
night. The beat of their hoofs died
away on the road and still Serge Ste
~phanovltch let his supper grow cold.
Prince Feodor had shut the door after
him, but Timofel Alexlef, having
spoken and received no answer, opened
it trembling with fear. He had no need
to tremble; his master lay senseless on
the floor. For months Serge S%tephano-
witch could not move hand or foot nor
utter anything save sounds that no one
could understand; but there was strength
in him yet, and, little by little, clear
ness Of speech returned TO him, though
his body from his waist down was par
alyzed, and he lay as helpless as a log.
Then began for him what was not q
happy time. His restless spirit chafed
and fretted like a devil in chains; he
who had never been content to rest like
other men was more weak and power
less than a child. In the house, in the
village, on the estate, his will was no
longer law. Before his face his de-
pendents were humble enough, but he
knew that behind his back they laughed
at his orders and Knocked at his help
lessneSs. AS for his son, he did not re-
turn, and the neighbors Stunned the
house. All through his illness / tended
him. The others, men and women,
were alike stupid and clumsy,
and grew frightened when he
swore at them and tried to
strike them, whereas l watched over
him with patient fidelity, and bore with
him as a good son should. At night he
could not sleep and was troubled by
strange faces. Every night men and
women he had once known, and who
nau gone OelOIo nlm W tue grave oVOOO
at the foot OF his bed. Sometimes they
cursed him, sometimes they Knocked;
but she who stood there oftenest-a
pale and slender girl-neither Knocked
nor cursed, but only looked at him ST.
lently with wide open terrible eyes; yet
she it was whom be most dreaded, whom
be vainly implored with grOans and
tears To leave him TO die in peace. For
all my n and patient service be paid
me with hatred, and also, even in the
day time, with a hidden, u%nspoken, IN
knoule6oad faar Had ha anV pauSa