Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1898-03-03
Continued.

NO HedfL, no conscience, no mem
sry!" l cried Great Heaveni tina
such thing should live and call it.
self woman. The lowest beast of the
seld has more compassion for its
knew me, even as my child, neglected
By you, in her last agony knew he1
father. She being innocent, passed
in peace: but he!-imagine if you can
the wrenching torture in which he
persisted, knowing all! How his parted
spirit must curse youl'
She raised her hands to her head
and pushed away the light curls from
her brow. There was a starving,
hunted, almost furious look in her
eyes, but she fixed them steadily on
me-
See" / went on-"hnte are more
proofs Of the truth of my story.
These things were buried with me-
and | threw into her lap as she sat
before me the locket and chain, the
sard-case and purse she herself had
given me. you will no doubt recognize
them. This'-and I showed her the
monks crucifix-"This was laid on
my breast in the coffin. 1t may be
useful to you-you can pray to it
presently"
She interrupted me with a gesture of
her hand; she spoke as though in a
dream.
You escaped from this vault?" she
said, in low tone, looking from right
to left with searching eagerness. "TelI
me oW-and-where?"
l laughed scornfully, guessing her
thoughts
1T matters little" 1 replied. THE
passage | discovered is now closed and
fast cemented. L have seen to that
myself! No other living creature left
here can escape as [ did. Escape is
impossible"
A stitled cry broke from her; she
threw herself at my feet, letting the
things | had given her as proofs of my
existence fall heedlessly on the floor
Pablo! Fabio!" she cried, save
me, pity me! Take me out to the light
the air-let me live! Drag me
through Naples-let all the crowd see
me dishonored, brand me with the
worst of names, make of me a COM
mon outcast-Only let me feel the
warm life throbbing in my veins! 1
will do anything, say anything, be
anything-only let me live! ] loath
the cold and darkness-the horrible
horrible ways of DEATH" She shud
dered violently and chung to me
afresh. L am so young! and after all,
am l so vile? There are women who
count their lovers by the score, and
yet they are not blamed; why should Z
suffer more than they?"
Why, why?" l echoed, fercely. BE
cause for once husband takes the
law into his own hands-for once "a
wronged man insists on justjce-for
once he dares to punish the treachery
that blackens his honor: Were there
more like me there would be fewer like
you! A score of lovers! IT'S not your
fault that you had but one! [ have
something else to say which concerns
you. Not content with fooling two
men, you tried the same amusement
on a supposed third. Ay, you vince
at that! While you thought me to be
Count Oliva-while you were be-
trothed to me in that character, you
wrote to Guido Ferrari in Rome. Very
charming letters! here they are,' and
| fiung them down to her Il have no
further use for them-I have read them
ALL"
She let them lie where they fell;
restless movements loosened her cloak
so far that it hung back from her
shoulders, showing the jewels that
flashed on her white neck and arms
like points of living light. i touched
the circlet of diamonds in her hair
| cnatched it from her.
These are mine!" l cried, "as
much as this signet [ wear, which was
your love-gift to Guido Ferrari, and
which you afterward returned to me,
its rightful owner. These are my
mothers gems-how dared you wea"
only fitting ornaments-they are stolen
goods, filched by the blOod-stained
hands of the blacklist brigand in
Sicily | promised you more like them;
behold them. and | threw open the
collins shaped chest containing the re-
mainder of Carmelo Neri's spOils. II
occupied conspicuous position near
where | stood, and I had myself ar
ranged its interior so that the gold
ornaments and precious stones should
be the first things to meet her eyes
You see now" | went on, where The
wealth of the supposed Count Olive
came from. l found this treasure
hidden here on the night of my buria
little did 1 think then what dire
need | should have for its usage, Il
has served me we'll; it is not yet ex.
hausted: the remainder is at you
seTyice!"
CHAPTER XXXVII.