Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1896-04-17
I AM GUILTY.

It is trite old saying that there can
be no love without jealousy. was pas
sionately attached to my wife and will
freely confess that was madly jealous
Of her, and with good cause it would
SEEM One day l met her out talking to
strange man, who moved hastily away
on my approach She was confused, agi-
tated, and when I taxed her with it re-
fused to tell me who he was. His name
was Leeson-that was all she would
saw. Constraint and mistrust rose up
between us then, and we bade long
farewell to happiness.
It came to q terrible crisis when one
day, returning home at an unexpected
time. I found him in my house. l over
heard a part of their interview, beheld
the passionate kiss of farewell, and wild,
mad, distracted, rushed into the street.
Here I met Clement Grimston, to whom
[ poured forth all my wrongs. He said
he knew something of this man Lesson,
and would take me to little public
house in Rotherhithe, where [ might
meet him and demand an explanation,
but at the same time implOred me to do
nothing rash.
All that day I stepped my senses in
strong drink, the FOOLS Lethe, wherein
he browns all his troubles. I saw Grim
ston again, and at night we went to
Rotherhithe. 1t was low, horrible den.
and it is strange what one who appeared
a gentleman could be doing there. I
met him, but by this time was SO mad
and blind with drink and with passion
that all that followed is an utter blank
| to me.
When at last I returned to complete
consciousness, the first faint gray streaks
of morning light were peeping between
| the blinds, and lay on couch in my
own house. The only other occupant Of
the room was Clement Grimston, who
paced restlessly up and down.
"What is the matter?'' I cried, pass
ing my hand over my brow. "What has
happened? All, 1 remember, dimly.
Where is Adela?''
"She is gone
"Not with -! Oh, what happened
last night? 1 can't remember. What
| fool I was to drink like that Tell me,
| Crimson, for heaven sake, tell mel"
"Don't you really remember?" he
asked slowly as he gazed down stead
| lastly at me.
"No."
"You met Eric Lesson. You had a
terrible quarrel. You were SO drunk you
seemed unconscious Of what you said Or
did I tried to restrain you. You would
not listen to me, and them
"Then what?'' I demanded, starting
to my feet.
There was pause. We looked at each
other, stupidity helpless, he with a
solemn pity and sorrow in his eyes.
"Yes, what then?' exclaimed again.
| He laid his hands upon my shoulders,
and bending forward whispered:
"Then you shot him deadl'
I have left the country. lam dwelling
by myself in lonely hut high up
among the Swiss Alps. did not see my
wife before left home. Thank heaven
for that How could I bid her farewell?
Is she not faithless to me, and am I not
guilty-guilty Of murder?
| Clement Grimston was truly friend
i'll need to me in my present horrible
situation. He had managed to get me
away from the public house at Rother-
hithe before my crime was discovered
before Twas conscious of it myself and
he again it was who helped me to leave
England.
| I provided myself with money enough
for my few simple necessities. Adela
has means CT her own and will want for
nothing, whatever may befall her. 1t is
best she should think me dead-lost to
her forever. am no longer Oswald LIE
strange. I have changed my identity.
Would to God I could so easily change
the past am indeed dead to the world.
| never speak to a soul, save now and
then the shepherds and peasants Of the
mountain land. When the English trav-
elers pass near my retreat, shun them
as would pestilence.
Then there are the terrible nights
when l wake up in a sweat from some
CHASTITY nightmare-but not more ghast-
~ than the reality-wake up in an
agony OF remorse for the human life
which have taken. And then another
terrible thought generally follows upon
this: Suppose should have made mis-
take? Suppose Adela could have ex-
planned had given her time? Suppose
she should have been guiltless? All,
heaven! What difference can that make
now? None, save to intensity my suffer-
ing and remorse. Inever dare approach
her again. I must remain dead to her,
for II am guilty! All, poor Adela,
how l loved her once-aye, and love
her as much still, God help me!
How can 1 go on leading this exist
ence? How is it all to end-this living
death, this self inflicted expiration of
crime? I often wonder. Yet here I have
dragged out three horrible, weary years
three years that have seemed to me
like an eternity.
One day in my lonely wanderings I
came upon a spot where some tourists
had been lunching. They had left a
newspaper behind them. Mechanically I
took 1T up. 1t was London daily, now
some three or four weeks old. With
eager longing I read the news. 1t was
the first I had seen Of the old home land
in three long, weary years. That Jour-
nal falling in my way was one of those
strokes of chance which we call improb-
able in fiction, but which in reality di-
rect the destinies of our lives. Suddenly
started back as short paragraph met
my gaze:
1t is expected that the trial will
take place about the 18th prox., at the
central criminal court of Clement Grim
ston, now under arrest for the murder
Of Mr.. Lesson at Rotherhithe about
three years ago."
Oh, God This was what I dreaded.