Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1893-02-07

val had somewhat forgotten tho dignity
Of the apostle and captain.
This low rioting was doubly disgust-
ling to me after the sad evening with
our friends I found SiEEum more Of.
fensive - . man Of the world than ~ .
paint. I say man Of the world, because
the gambling scenes Of nominal gentle
men arc often Just - hateful. II moro
decorous, than those Of that night. i
walked slowly Of toward camp sorrow.
ful and sick at heart. Baseness and vul.
garity had never seemed TO mo 20 base
and vulgar till now.
Isuddenly heard voice in the bushes.
Il was Larrap. He was evidently per-
suading his comrade to some villainy.
I caught asuspicious word or two.
"Ahi' thought !, "you want our
horses. We will see to that"
walked slowly. Brent was seated
by the emben Of camp fire, covered In
. heap, like cold Indian. He raised his
face. AL the light had gone out Of him.
This trouble had suddenly worn into his
being, like the shirt Of Nessus, and poi.
Soned his life.
"John." said I, ~ never knew you de-
spondent before"
"This Is not dependency"
"What Them
"Despair."
81 cannot offer to cheer you."
"It 10 bitter, Wade. ! have yearned
to be q lover for years. AL at once I
6nd the woman have seen and thought
Of and known from my first conscious
moment. The circumstances crowded
my love into sudden intensity. Imade
the observations and did the work OF
months Of acquaintance In those few
moments while we were at tea. My
mind always acts quick. I seem always
to have been discussing my decisions
with myself, years before the subject Of
decision comes to me. Whatever hap
pens falls on me with tie force Of
doom. loved Miss Clitheroe's voice
the instant heard Its brave tenderness
answering her father. Iloved her un-
seen, and would have died for her that
moment. When she appeared, and !
saw her face and read her heart, knew
that It was the old dream-the old dream
that I never thought would be other
than q dream. The ancient hope and
expectation, coeval with riy life, was
fulfilled. She Is the other self I have
been waiting for and seeking for"
"Have you told her soy'
"Can q man stop the beating Of his
hearth Can man not breathe! Not In
In words perhaps. did not use the
lover words. But she understood me.
She did not seem surprised. She recog.
nizes such passion ~ her right and
desert"
"a great hearted woman can see how
. man worthy Of her can nullify time and
rpace. and meet her, soul to soul, In eter.
nifty from the first"
$50 I meet her; but circumstances
here are stronger than love-"
"Can she do nothing with her fatherl"
"Nothing. She faile,l In England
when this delusion first fell upon him."
"Did she know what 1t meant for her
and himl'
"Hardly. She even fancied that they
would be happier In America than at
home, where she saw that his old
grandeur was always approaching him."
"Did he conceal from her the goal and
object Of his emigrationY'
"She knew he was, or supposed him.
self to be, q Mormon. But Mormonism
was little more than name to her. She
believed his perversion only transitory
folly. 1t is but recently, only since they
were away from succor, Of In the desert,
that she has perceived her own risk. She
hoped that the voyage from England
would disenchant her father and that
she could keep him In the states. No; he
was committed; he was impracticable.
You have seen yourself how far his faith
ID shaken. Just 90 far that his crazy
cheerfulness has given place to moping;
but he will hear nothing Of reason"
"What does she anticipsteY'
"She says she only dares to endure.
Day by day they both wear away. Day
by day her fathers bright hope dwindles
away. Day by day she perceives the
moment Of her own danger approaching.
She could not speak to me Of II; but ]
could feel by her tone her disgust and
disdain of Sizzum. Oh, how steady and
noble she lei All for her father! All to
guide him with the fewest pangs to that
desolats death she knows must come!
She gave me o few touches Of their past
history, 90 that could see how much
closer and tenderer than the common
bond Of parent and child theirs had
BEEN"
"That saw from the old gentleman's
story. Sorrow and poverty ennoble love-"
"She thanked me and You 10 sweetly
for our society aud the kind words We
had given them. She had not seen her
father 90 cheerful, 80 like himself, since
they had left England"
"whata weary pilgrimage they must
have had, poor errant soulsi'
"Oh, Wade, Wadel how this tragedy
Of theirs cures me forever Of any re-
bellion against my own destiny. A
helpless woman's tragedy Is 90 much
bitterer than anything that can befall .
man."
"Must we say helpless, Johny'
"Are We two an army, that we can
take them by forcei She has definitely
closed any further communication on our
part. She said that I could not have
failed to notice how Elder Sizzum dis
liked our presence. Imust promise her
not to be seen with them In the morn
ing. Sixzum would fnd some means to
punish her father. and that would be
torture to her. II seems that villain
plays on the old mans religious super.
stitions, and can terrify him almost to
madness"
"The villaini And yet how far back
Of him lies the blame, that such terros
can exist In any mans mind when God
Il love-"
"I promised her not TO see her again
for you snd myself; to see her no more.
That goodby was final. Now let mo
alone for awhile, my dear old boy; l am
worn out and heartbroken."
He mummied himself In bis blankets,
and lay ON the grass, motionless a. .
dead man. Il was not his way to shirk
camp duties. Indeed, his volunteer
services had left him In arrears.
I put our firearms In order In case OF
attack and extinguished our Hre. Our
horses, too, drove In and tethered close
by. Ny old suspicion Of Murker and
Larrap had revived from their mutter.
Il, a. Al.k .ek>~ Akotv oNook