The Richmond palladium. (Richmond, Ind.) 1906-1907, 1906-12-17

livered this message. He showed nc
excitement nor any feeling greater
than Impotence at being kept waiting
minute or SO at the door. Then ]
glanced beyond him at the people chat
ting in the hall. No alarm there; moth
ing but a very natural surprise that
the bride should keep 50 big a crowd
waiting. / felt that this fixed the
event. He who had sent me this quiet
message was true to himself and to
our old compact. He had not publish
ed below what would have set the
house in an uproar In moment. He
had left his secret to be breathed into
my ear alone. 1 could recall the mo-
ment he passed me his word and his
firm look as he said, with his hand
lifted to heaven: You have been good
to me and given me your precious self
while was poor and a nobody. In re-
turn / swear to keep our marriage a
secret till great success shows me to
be worthy of you or till you with your
own lips express forgiveness of my
failure and grant me leave to speak.
Nothing but death or your permission
shall ever unseal my lips When /
heard that he was dead I feared lest
he might have spoken, but now that 1
had seen him alive / knew that In no
other breast save his, my own and
that Of the unknown minister in an al
most unknown town dwelt any knowl-
edge of the fact which stood between
me and the marriage which all these
people had come here to see- My con-
fdence in his rectitude determined me-
Without conscious emotion, without
fear even--the ending Of suspense had
ended all that--I told the boy to seat
the gentleman in the library. Then
ITO turn and turn q miserable crank
after those moments Of frenxied action
and silence-that was the hard part
that was what tried my nerve and first
robbed me Of calmness. But 1 dared
not leave that fearful thing dangling
there; had to wind. The machinery
squeaked and it's noise seemed to fill
the house, but no one came nor did the
door below open. Sometimes I have
wished that 1t had. 1 should not then
have been lured on, and you would not
have become involved in my ruin.
81 am afraid to die, but I am more
afraid Of failing in courage. Ishall have
the pistol tied to me; this will make 1t
seem inevitable to use it. Oh, that the
next twenty-four hours could be blot
ted out Of time! Such horror cannot
be. was born for Joy and gayety, yet
no dismal depth Of misery and fear has
been spared me! But all on account of
my own act. do not accuse God; do
and my thoughtless grasping after
pleasure.
81 want Cora to read this as we'll as
you. She must know me dead as she
never knew me living. But I cannot
tell her that / have left a confession
behind me. She must come upon it
unexpectedly, just as mean you to do.
Only thus can it reach either Of you
with any power. If could but think
Of some excuse for sending her to the
book where propose to hide it! That
would give her a chance OF reading it
before you do, and this would be best.
She may know how to prepare or COM
fort you'll hope 80. Cora IL q noble
woman, but the secret which kept my
thoughts In such q whirl has held us
apart.
You did whatsI asked. You found
a place for Raucher's waiter in the vol
unteer corps. Surprised as you were at
honored my first request and said moth
ing. Would you have shown the same
anxious eagerness il you had known
why I whispered those few words to
him from the carriage door. why I
could neither rest nor sleep till he and
the other boy were safely out Of town?
Il must leave a line for you to show
to people II they wonder why killed
myself SO soon after my seemingly
happy marriage. You will ind it in
the same book with this letter. Some
one will tell you to look In the book
i cannot write any more.
81 cannot help writing. 1t is all that
connects me now with life and with
you But I have nothing more to say
except forgive-forgive-
do you think that God looks at his
wretched ones differently from what
men do? That he will have tenderness
for one 50 sorry-that he will even
find place But my mother is there.
my father! oh, that makes it fearful
to go-to meet-but 1t was my father
who led me into this-only he did not
AuOW- 4ucEc. L VIII Ouly VI
God.
''Goodby-goodby-g
That was all. 1t ended, as it began,
without name and without date-the
final heart throbs of a soul awakened
to its own act when it was quite too
late, piteous memorial which daunt-
ed each one of us as we read it. and
when finished drew us all together in
the hall out Of the sight and hearing of
the two persons most intimately con-
cerned in it.
Possibly because all had one thought
"a thrilling one, which the major was
the first to give utterance to:
The man she killed was buried IN
der the name Of Wallace. How's that. |
II he was her husband, William
An oflcer we had not before noted |
VAS standing near the front door. He |
came forward at this and placed a |
second telegram in the superintendent's |
hand. 1t was from the same source |
IS the one previously received and ap- |
peared to settle this very question.
Il have just learned that the man |