The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1894-03-21
D.. Elf6lSteil' Mission
A Remarkable Romance.
BY EMILY THORNTON.

Reginald, for Heavens sake, tell me
Why you thus deal with me? Have /
ever harmed you?'
"sYou have by being in my way. Set
aside your title, estates; yes, even,' he
laughed horribly, when, after q pause,
he added, 'your future bride are mine!
All mine! Tonight 1 announce to you,
all think you dead, and virtually you are
so!'
Reginald! Reginaldp shrieked, as
he disappeared from view; hear me,
take all, but leave me liberty and Con-
stance'
"a mocking laugh was my only reply.
. @From that hour have seen no human
face, heard no human voice!
@These walls, know, are several feet
thick, built so that NC sound can issue
from them. Not movement can be
heard unless the panels are open, and
then but'faintly.
$50 at once knew, that to the world,
what he had said was true, I was deadl
aSometimes, even yet, l dream that
this is but an idle fancy, and once again
I wake to feel my chain, to loathe my
prison.
:, 9Then I seem to see my own loved
Constance near me. I call upon her,
bnt as stretch out my hand to find her
own the vision fades, and know that it
was an illusion Of the brain. Yet the
memory Of those fearful words ever re-
mains: your future bride is mine, all
mfne!'
l. aCan this have become truth?
@Has my darling forgotten me; does
she, too. deem me dead?9ss
@Oh, Constancei Constance! ..
$50 start from my bed with her name
upon my efevered lips;. / open my arms
to clasp her to my bosom.
@In9yaint ] am alone! Horribly,
truly alone! .sl&
S0fsen have I prayed to die!
~Lffe has become weary burden, but
INV prayers are not heard. For some
purpose Of his own, God wishes me to
live. .i.l g.-..- ...- -
aEven so, Father, for so it seemed good
In Thy sight!
aFor months, with q pencil which I
have found in my-.pocket, have I, on
scraps of paper torn from books, written
and placed on the plate wild prayer
for at least pens, ink, and paper to
amuse my lonely hours.
Books were at hand, wells-tored
library being in my room, but wanted
writing notwithstanding besides
this endless reading.
aAt last, at last, my prayer Is granted,
and have q new way to give vent to my
feelings.
;, .Thank God for the privilege Of writ
: sHere, now, have written the cause
and manner Of my strange captivity.
For no crime committed, no Offense given
to courtor neighbor, am yet victim
to q brothers. jealous envy OF my posi-
tion and my funds; am close prisoner.
~One thing have expected at his
mean STARVATION.
II have thought that so selfish being
rs he has proved himself to be would
some day demur at the confinement con-
sequent upon attending to my wants; /
was sure he would wish to travel, or visit,
away from Hendenning Hall. 'f
@But ! know his movements, know
his peculiar jerk, as he slides open the
panels, and now, after eighteen years /
am certain that no hand but his has
opened them and given me my food.
sSpch foodl
~All cut up into mouthfuls las they fear
giving me knife) mixed together upon
one wooden plate.
@Sometimes / loathe the sight Of this
strange jumble, but whether I eat it OF
not, l always take it, fearing If I do not
return the plate, even this nightly visit
will cease, this meager food be stopped.
~I know now that he has married Con-
stance.
~As prayed for pens, ink, and paper,
I always concluded, tell me, oh, tell me
of Constance
80 with the paper came at last this
cruel notes a..
"1I grant this one prayer. Never
again dare send another line to me. II
you 90 disobey in this, your food will
stop, and you be left to starve. Once
for all, say, the world thinks you dead,
and thinks Fitzroy your murderer. He
was tried. and as yonr dead body Vas
not found, acquitted, but all think him
guilty. Under this suspicion, he left
the country and no one knows whittier
went. I am Sir Reginald Glendenning,
and your constant Constance has been
my wife just sixteen years. This Is the
last communication you will ever receive
from me. Beware how you send another
line upon the Shelves
"After reading this note I must have
tainted, for when / next recollected any.
thing was lying on the floor in q poo
Of blood.
@In falling had hit my head agains,
the iron chain, and gashed open my fore
head under my hair.
sWould to God that had died thel
and therel
Il did not die; lived, and crswled II
m. bed, where lay until the rays OF tn
sun penetrated through the one window
in the ceiling. ~
Il lived, but my head whirls, my brail
is dizzy, I fear shall 60 mad!
sOh, innocent, ruined brother!
"oh, forgetful Constance!
when shall cease to think OF thes
two? .
CHAPTER XXX.
THE JOURNAL CONTINUED.
aCarle Elfenstein paused when he reach
cd these last words, and large tears
sympathy still rolled over his checks, 8