Chicago eagle. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1889-19??, 1903-07-18
CHAPTER XVIII

| ! doubt whether, II I tried. ! could
describe at length the weeks and months
| that followed. Like one who was dead.
but possessing still the power Of motion.
l pursued my lonely way. All through
the first night Of my departure I walked
till the first faint streak Of light herald.
I'd the coming day. I must have walked
fast and mechanically In II direction In
which l should not be recognized. II
suited me that | had reached Il place |
did not know. An humble wayside inn
was near; l entered 1t and asked for n
room. There ! remained during the day.
and when night fell went out again, and
walked on and on, through fields aud vii.
lagos, taking any track that promised 10
lead me farther and farther away from
familiar scenes. ! must have ndopte,l
some method Of cunning cOncealment that
no one accOsted me and inquired whittier
! was going. When day dawned I was
In a wood. AMI there ! lay unObseryed.
At night again ] continued my flight, and
80. day after day, night after night pass
cd, until felt that ! was lOst--and safe.
l kept no count of the days. aud only
knew when II was Sunday by the ringing
Of the church bells. l. entered no church; ;
] did not pray; l strove not to think; all
that l wished was that time would pass
swiftly. ! spoke To no man unless |
was spoken to; ! never laid my hand
with tenderness upon the form Of child
or animal. My heart was turning into
stone, and set myself steadfastly to the
task Of banishing from my mind every
gentle sentiment that strove to find lOdg-
ment there. OF my wife and daughter l
would not think. There was between
them and me a barrier which | believed
to be eternal. never looked at news
paper or printed page: the worlds do.
lngs interested me no longer.
One Sabbath ] was sitting In q church,
yard; ! was tired and faint, and my feet
were blistered with walking over rough
roads. 1t belonged to my mood to choose
ever the stony paths.
They were singing In the church--a
quaint old church covered with ivy. Worn
with fatigue, my eyelids closed. and a
light slumber overlook me. 1t could
have lasted but u short time. for when
! opened my eyes ! heard the singing
still within the church. What specially
aroused me was the voive of one of the
singers. My wife had just such a voice;
Its note of familiar sweetness startled
me. ! listened In wonder. The singing
ceased. and soon afterward the congrega-
ton issued from the church. I scanned
them eagerly as they came forth; for a
brief space my sterner spirit did not as
sert itself.
! had no fear that ] should be recog-
nizcd, suppOsing that the voice which had
impressed me was that of my wife. I
had seen my face and form occasionally
In clear water when | stopped to drink,
and l knew that ] had grown out of all
likeness to myself. From the night l
left my home ] had not shaved; my mat.
ted hair, my wild eyes. my ragged gar
ments. placed me beyond the pale of rec
oRnitiOn. So, without fear, ! gazed at
the faces Of the worshipers. My wife
was not among them. The church was
emptied OF the throng. and was, l
thought, alone again In the churchy ard.
But ! was mistaken. A man stood by
my side. He was Of middle age; his face
was benignant, his voice was gentle. As
he moved and spoke he seemed to be at.
tended by the spirit Of charity.
"YOu seem In trouble" he said. "Can
! help you In any way?"
! rose. cast q wrathful glance at him,
and walked away from him. ! did not