The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1896-05-07

with his cousin; so much in love, in
deed, that it is doubtful if he ever re-
membered how rich she was, and how
the wedding would please all the re-
lations and friends on both sides.
Half the curiosities were repaclIed,
and he had just stretched out his hand
to take the silver snake from the table,
when a sharp cry of alarm rang through
the house, and then-ahl he hardly
knew, hardly dared to recall, what fol-
lowed. Only he knew that Rosalie lay
dead upstairs-that she had fallen life
less without an instant's warning. The
doctor had talked learnedly about I'M
suspected heart disease that had thus
suddenly ended the bright young life.
The house was filled by the cries OF
women, for Rosalie had been dear tc
them all; but the man who had loved
her better than his life had no tears to
shed. He sat, still in his evening dress,
in the room where they had parted
he was stunned by the greatness of his
awful grief-vainly trying to realize
that it was really true that Resale was
dead
So the morning found him, and when
the day had well begun it seemed to
him that the silver snake, lying where
Rosalie had thrown it, stirred strange
ly, for surely its head was raised and
SILVER ran through all the glistening
coils. He stared at the thing, wonder
ing if it had power to move while the
hand that had lately flung it down lay
cold and dead. Then, as if stirred by
some weird fascination, he turned his
head slowly towards the long French
windows that still stood open. Pres
emily he knew why his eyes had been
drawn thither; he was no longer alone,
for a woman stood upon the threshold,
framed, as it were, in the greenery of
the creeping plants that clustered
round the opening, and as he looked
upon her face he sprang to his feet with
one word upon his lips, and that was
her name.
"Lachme!'
She came towards him, seeming to
float rather than walk, her every move
ment full of sinuous grace and her foot
fall making no sound upon the soft pile
of the carpet.
"Yes, it is l." she answered, as she fell
at his feet, and her voice was low and
sweet, though strangely monotOnous,
like the cooling of a dove, my love.
All! did you think l should forget?
And l told you," she answered, laying
a soft brown hand upon his wrist, that
we should meet again in another land
when the fair face that was thrust be-
tween us then should be but dust. Say,
did | not speak the TRUTH"
Great heavens, yes!" st. Lawrence
cried, and, as in horror, dragged his
hand from her hold. Was it true. as
the natives had said, that this was some
witchwoman, and had her charms had
power to rob him of his love?
'Yes, l spoke the truth" she cried,
after a pause, during which John ST.
Lawrence strobe up and down the room.
and her black eyes followed his I'M
ceasingly. you told me you must re-
turn to your own country, to wed the
wife that had been chosen for you by
your people, for you were poor and she
was rich. But it was me, and me alone.
you really loved"
81 was mad, but / had not met her
them st. Lawrence muttered, and he
hated himself for ever having uttered
such wild, foolish words that to her
had seemed true.
Lachme heard the words, low as they
were spoken, and a sudden flush, half
incredulous, half scornful and wholly
angry, lit up her dusky eyes. On the
table between them the silver coils of
the snake CLEANED and glimmered in
the morning light, and more than once
her brown hands stole cautiously
towards it as towards an instrument of
vengeance, only to pause half way.
81 asked if nothing could make your
cousins riches yours except by marry
ing her." Lachme went on, land you re-
piled that nothing could but her death.
All, you start, now; you had forgotten
those words, but you remember them
well enough now. Then, ] told you We
and you, having all her wealth, would
be free to claim me from all the world,
free to marry me, my love-my love-"
"You are mad to speak like that to
me, Lachme," he said, and his tone,
more than any words, told her of the
gulf that yawned between them.
when l left India l told you that the
parting was for ever. You can be moth
ing to me now"
But she is dead-dead, as foretold.''
Lachme said, and he recalled with
thrill of remorse how he had made his
engagement to his English cousin an
excuse for leaving this woman.
"You need not speak of her." he an
swered, his voice, in spite of his self
control, broken by rising SOB. st |
is enough that all between us is over
long ago, and can never be revived"
With curious gesture, whose sinu-
Gus grace was strangely like the uncoil-
ing of serpent, Lachme rose to her
feet and seized the silver snake in her
hands.
You scorn me now" she said, and
her voice was hiss. "You no longer
love me, yet it was that gave you the
means to free yourself from this girl
whom you were forced to marry. AS