Bennington semi-weekly banner. (Bennington, Vt.) 1894-1902, 1896-01-17

etP They were indeed kind to all and
charitable to the poor But their kindness
kept people ut a distance, and when they
opened their purse it was apparently with
out feeling.
The husband, 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 more than 25.
They were 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 went TO the abbey and came
back, walking with the same slow and
mechanical step They received papers,
magazines, books, but never letter.
Both seemed sad, of gloomy and desc.
late sort of sadness, which those who APP
preached them felt themselves Many
servant indeed had gone away, unable to
endure that icy atmosphere. II is certain
that they neither wrangled nor spoke
harshly. On the contrary, there was al
ways between them dead silence, inter
rupted only by those short phrases which
daily contact made necessary.
Reaching the garden gate as if fighting
an inward repugnance, the lady stopped
and passed by. Then she turned back and
again passed the gate. A last she entered.
In the hall she found n servant, who, to
the mute question of her look, answered:
'Still in the same condition, signora."
She put her cloak and bonnet on chair
and went up stairs, where she stopped,
hesitating again before one of the doors
on the first floor. Opening it rudely, she
entered n large, dismal room. Here on an
iron bed, a bed bofltting a soldier, lay her
husband.
Noiselessly she drew near listened to
the sick mans heavy and painful breath
ing, and bending over him she tried to sec
his face
Little by little, her eyes growing acous-
toned to the darkness, she could perceive
his convulsed and livid features; his
cheeks furrowed with red veins. His heavy
eyelids were half closed, his nose, drawn
and emaciated stood out above his blue
half opened lips, from which came a short
and whistling breath. He was dyingl
A woman, who had been watching ct
the bedside, had left the room as soon ms
the signora had come in, and now the lat
ter 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 longed for, prayed
for in the silent revolt of her down trodden
heart-the hour of her liberty had come at
last.
The lady seated herself and let her mind
turn once more to the past.
She was still beautiful, and within her
heart sweet sentiments still could dwell.
He, a stern and imperious man, was born
to lead an army to battle rather than to
live by the side of delicate and sensitive
woman. His age was twice hers, and they
had no children. She had no one on whom
she could lavish her tenderness. She had
not single person to whom she could
Confide her dreams or her illusions. Her
mother had settled in "a faraway province,
and her only sister was u nun.
1t was the old, old story. She met
young man. Their souls blended. At
first it was innocent friendship, then tho
storm of passion. One day her husband,
on returning home, had found them to-
gcther, their hands olasped!
Oh, the terrible recollection! The
thought of it made the blood rush to her
heart, and she again felt the same shame,
the same terror which had wholly over
powered hor before her judges revolver
and stern face.
Everything had suddenly assumed
strange rapidity. She had faced her hus-
band, crying: Mercy Mercy prom
ise to never see him again."
Her husband had hesitated moment;
hpd looked at them, crushing them under
the weight of his contempt; then, without |
lowering his revolver, had dictated these
conditions:
promise, on the gospel, on your etor.
nRl life, that you will never sec this crea.
ture again; that you will obey me in all,
and that you will accept the punishment |
which / may please to inflict."
In the anguish of her fear and love she |
had promised, word for word, what he had |
insisted upon.
On sign of her husband the young |
man, humiliatod and vililled, had depart
ed, and her expiration had begun.
Her husband had resigned his command |
in the army and had gone to live on that !
mountain slope, assuming n false name,
hiding his secret from all. Like two
stones that fall 20 the bottom of the sea,
they had disappeared from society without |
leaving any trace. Twice year she wrote
to her mother. Her husband read her
letters, would mail them himself in some
farof place. Finally her mother had died,
and from that day no letters were sent.
In that terrible isolation she had gone
through all the stages of despair. For
several days she declined to eat, wishing
to starve but her memorable judge had
said to her:
"You are Christian. You have prom