Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1897-06-17

tured BY scores in Naples-mere shells
of thin deal nailed together with
clumsy hurry and fear. But how L
blessed their wretched construction!
Had been laid in stronger casEet,
who knows if ever the most deSpcr tie
frenzy of my strength might not nave
proved unayailing. | shuddered at the
thought Yet the question remained
! Where was /? | reviewed my case from
lall points, and for some time could
Iarriye at no satisfactory conclusion
! Stay, though, remembered that | had
told the monk my name; he knew that
| was the only descendant of the rich
Romani family. What followed?
, Why, naturally, the good father had
only done what his duty called upon
( him to do. He had seen me laid in
/ the vault of my ancestors-the great
! Romani vault that had never been
| opened since my fathers body was car
! red to It's last resting-place with all
/ the solemn pCmp and magnificence of
wealthy nobleman's funeral obse-
ques The more | thought of this
the more probable it seemed. The
Romani vault It's forbidding gloom
| had terrified me as a lad when | fol-
/ lowed my fathers coffin to the stone
niche assigned to it, and | had turned
my eyes away in shuddering pain
when / was told to look at the heavy
oaken casket, hung with tattered vel
vet and ornamented with furnished
! silver. which contained all that was
left Of my mother, who died young.
I had felt sick and faint and cold, and
/ had only recovered myself when
stood out again in the free air with the
! blue dome of heaven high above me.
And now | was shut in the same vault
"a prisoner-with what hope of es-
cape? ! reflected The entrance to
/ the vault. | remembered, was barred
/ by a heavy door of closely twisted
| iron-from thence n flight of steep
steps led downward downward to
where in all probability | now was.
Suppose | could in the dense darkness
/ feel my way to those steps and climb
mp to that place, of what avail? It
was locked nay, barred--and as II
was situated in a remote part of the
burial ground, there was no likeli-
hood of even the keepers of the ceme-
terry passing by it for days-perhaps
not for weeks. Then must | starve?
Or die Of thirst? Tortured by these
imaginations. | rose up from the pave
ment and stood erect. My feet were
bare, and the cold stone on which |
stood chilled me to the marrow. 1t
was fortunate for me- | thought, that
they had buried me as cholera corpse
they had left me hals-clothed for
fear of infection. That is. | had my
flannel shirt on and my usual walking
trousers, Something there was, too,
round my neck; | felt it, and as | did
so a food Of sweet and sorrowful
memories rushed over me- II was a
slight gold chain, and on it hung n
loCket containing the portrait of my
wife and child. ! drew 1t out in the
darkness; covered it with passionate
kisses and tears--the first | had shed
scalding and bitter welled into my
eyes. Life was worth living while
Nina's smile lightened the world! |
resolved TO fight for existence, no mat
ter what dire horrors should be yet in
store for me. Nina-m loye-my
beautiful onel Her face cleaned out
upon me in the pestilent gloom OF the
charnol-house. her eyes beckoned me
her young faithful eyes that were now
] felt sure, drowned in weeping for
my tender-hearted darling sobbing
alone in the empty silence of the room
that had witnessed . thousand en-
braces between herself and me; her
lovely hair djshey eled: her sweet
face pale and haggard with the bitter
ness OF grief, Baby Stella. too. no
doubt she would wonder. poor limo
cent! why | did not come to swing
her as usual under the orange houghs
And Guido brave aud true friend!
| thought Of him with tenderness. |
felt knew how deep and lasting
would be his honest regret for my loss.
oh, ! would leave no means Of escape
unuiod; | would find some way out of
this grim vault! How oyerjoyed they
would all be TO see me again-to know
that | was not dead after all, What a
welcome | should receiye' How Nina
would nestle into my arms; how my
child would cling to me: how Guido
would clasp me by the hand, smiled
as ! pictured the scene OF rejoicing at
the dear old villa the happy home
sanctihed by perfect friendship and
faithful love-
deep hollow sound booming sud
denly on my ears startled me-ooG1
.No, three' counted the strokes
PIP to twelve II was some church bell
telling the hour My pleasing fancios
dispersed ! again faced the draar
roattty Of MY position Twelve o'clock
Midday or midniEhto 7 could not tell
hesln to calculate Il was early
morning when | had been taken ill.,
Mot TIHfU q tsat rFs.1t 49,,