Waterbury evening Democrat. [volume] (Waterbury, Conn.) 1887-1895, 1894-06-01

ing, feeble utterance? That is spirit.
He has killed her! Do You hear that,
Dye? The Jew has killed her! No won
der you put your fingers in your ears
and run! Run, run, run! Across tho
field and up the road, to stumble, to
fall, and then push ON again, with your
fingers i'll your ears. You cannot shut
it out You cannot drown its cry. Tho
Jew has killed her, and her spirit means
and wrings its hands, and all through
you. Remember this, coward Dye. Look
back over your past life and think of
the ambitious beginning and the pitiful
end. Good family, talents, education.
But still where are you? And all through
him. How long, how long, shall he go
on deSpising you, trampling on you?
He, with his devilish face and black,
black heart? Wait, good Dye. Wait.
Do not be impatient The moment comes.
She is not dead. She lives. She lives.
Dye, you must watch the house,
the house in the quiet street. You must
tell the Jew all who go in and out. Oh,
yes, you will do this for the good, kind
Jew, the sweet, amiable Rosenfel!
Yes, but you must do more. She is get
ting we'll. You must come up with him
the long flights of stairs to keep watch
while he goes i'll. Doyou remember that,
Dye? Do you remember his devilish
cunning and his plausible airs? Do you
remember the soft knock that is not an
swered, the creaking door, the cautious
voice, whispering, Watch here that no
one comes upon the stairs while [ go
in?' What will you do, Dye? You have
whisky in your pocket What will You
do? Drink! Drink for courage! Why
not call for help? The Jew is trapped.
He is there Drink more and deeper.
You must have courage. Sh! What is he
doing? Did You hear that gasp? Step in
a little way and look. There! The paper
flashes up-the paper i'll the CRATE, and
there he is at the fire looking at her !!
Tho second time is better than the first.
She is black i'll the face from his chOll
ing hands. She is dead now, Dye See!
He is dragging her back upon the bed.
Quick! He calls TO you, A lightn What
is he doing? 4 match to guide him while
he arranges her dead hands! Devilish,
devilish Cunningi What n monster is
this Jew! A step on the stair Run
quickly, Dye, and lock the door! Is
cape! Where? How? BY the window, to
the roof, and so out Of the reach of all
pursuit. There is pounding and calling
at the door! They will break it in!
Quick, quick, now! Who will go first?
The jew! Oh, yes the jew, the great
and important jew!
What is your life worth, You cur,
40 Il ;,>,
are you? The window is open. He stands
upon the sill. He is climbing. He will
escape No! No! AT last, Dye, the
whisky has done its work. 1ou are no
longer n crOuching sycophant. Strike
now! Now or never! See him struggle
to keep his hold! See him losing
strength, bit by bit against those fear
full odds! He cannot long hold ont. Dye,
you have giants strength, if You are
Old and Worn out, through him, before
Your time. Go, cursed jew! You have
torn his desperate fingers from their
hold, and there, i'll the darkness he is
going down, over and over, to the end.
The jew is dead! The jew is drad!'
Mr.. Dye rose up. His eyes, which
had more and moro, as he went on, as
sumed steady look ahead, fixed on the
vacant wall III front of him.
Both MaNcy and the physician accom-
panied him simultaneously, each with a
strong grasp on an arm. They did not
know what i'll his dclirious state he
might be impellcd to do. He only spoke
out mockingly:
jew, jew, FrliN RoSonfel, the jew,
rise up out of Your place i'll the cold
water and dare to say that l have lied"
He was silent minute. His body be
came rigid and then couvulsive.
Their combined strength WAS barely
sufficient to hold him. His whole frame
became conrortcd, and crying ont i'll a
terrible voice: There he comes! There
he comes! He is there on the carpet,
wet and dripping' he fell back, froth-
ing at the month.