The Roanoke daily times. (Roanoke, Va.) 1895-1897, 1895-11-30
PUNISHMENT.

Night was falling on the valley between
tho snow capped peaks. The angclus
bell rang from the tower of the old abbey.
Down the nave, dark and deserted, n
woman was praying, her face concealed by
the darkness and her black veil.
Every day ut the Same hour for is years
had that lady been seen passing by, wrap
ped in her black cloak, her face covered
by her thick black veil. For Is years her
mysterious presence in that faroff valley
had furnished u subject TO the imagination
and gossip of the inhabitants. And yet,
little by little, before that impcnctrablc
mystery i~mnginations had ceased to work
and tongues were now reduced to silence.
Accompanied by her husband, she had
arrived one evening, as already stated,
about Is years previous to the timo VIC are
describing. They had come alone, with
out servants, and with but little baggage.
They had alightcd ut the hotel, where they
lived for several months, while tho house
they had bought on the outskirts of the
town was heing repaired. 1t was Il pretty
cottage surrounded by IA full garden of
roses.
From the day they had settled in that
modest abode they had led II very quiet
life. They We're known rs Signor and
- NAkoliiii ~ Oi lIG SIlNCI IblStl
there was IL monogram bearing II crown.
could DC their motive for conceal
ing their name? How had they come to
that remote corner of tho world? Why did
they not wish to see any one, either rela-
tivcs or friends? Why did thcy live alone,
as If they had come from some other plan
ct? They were indeed kind to all and
charitable to the poor. But their kindness
kept people at II distance, and when they
opened their purse it WAS apparently with
out feeling.
The husband, Il tall, strong man, with
an almost athletic physique, appeared, ut
tho time of their arrival, to be about 90
years of age, his wife not moro than 20.
They We're never seen together. He
went hunting, or took long walks, always
alone. She wandered among the roses of
her garden, and every day, morning and
evening, She q to tho abbey and came
back, walking with the same slow and
mechanical step. They received papers,
magazines, books, but never u letter.
Both seemed sad, of u gloomy and desc
late sort Of sadness, which those who ap-
preached them felt themselves. Many a
servant indeed had gone away, unable to
endure hat icy atmosphere. 1t is certain
that they neither wrangled nor spoke
harshly. On the contrary, there was al
Nts " tllClll II N!ttiu SllCIlIt, lllltE-
rupted only by those short phrases which
daily contact made necessary.
Reaching tho garden gate, as if fighting
an inward rcpugnancc, the lady stopped
and passed by. Then she turned back and
again passed the gate. AT last she entered.
In the hall she found u servant, who, to
the mute question Of her look, answered:
"Still in the same condition, signora."
She put her cloak and bonnet on II chair
and went up stairs, where she stopped,
hcsitating again before one of the doors
on the first floor. Opening it rldoly, she
entered Il large, dismal room. Here on an
iron bed, II bed bciitting IL soldier, lay her
husband.
Noisclcssly she drew near, listened to
tho sick mans heavy II painful breath
ing, and bending over him she tried to SEQ
his face.
Little by little, her eyes growing accus-
tomod to the darkness, she could perceive
his %convulsod and livid features, his
checks furrowod with red veins. His heavy
eyclids were half closed, his nose, drawn
and cmaciatod, stood out above his blue,
half opened lips, from which came n short
and whistling breath. He was dying!
A woman, who had been watching mt
the bedside, had left the room rs soon as
tho signora had como in, and now the lat
tor was alone with the dying man, gazing
on that human force that held her in sub
lection so many years, and that was now
fading away. This hour, looked forward
to for Is years, this hour longcd for, prayed
for in the silent revolt of her down troddon
heart-tho hour of her liberty had come mt
last.
Tho lady seated herself and let her mind
turn once moro to tho past.
She was still beautiful, and within her
hcart sweet sentiments still could dwell.
dc, u stern and impcrious man, was born
TO lead an army to battle rather than to
1--we by the side of Il delicate and sensitive
woman. His ago was twice hers, md they
had no children. She had no ono on whom
she could lavish her tenderness. She had
not u single person to whom she could