The North-Eastern Weekly Gazette. — 1891-03-21 (Stockton-on-Tees, Cleveland, England)

CHAPTER XVIL ERNEST'S DREAM.  When released from the strong restraint he bed imposed upon himself in the presence of his mother, Ernest Farrell gave way to woeful despair. The , agony of hope was over, the sentence was passed; be was doomed to a felon's death. He sat down on his cot, and buried his face in his hands. To die, so full of life, and hope, and love ! To give up all the chances of the future; all the world might bring to him, all that be might bring the world, to lay it down unknown, untried for whit? A noble cause; his country's honour; a human life? No, alas, no! to roost • shameful death, to leave a tarnished name, to leave the woman of his lore to be pointed at as a felon's bride. It could not, should not be; it VMS too monstroutto be thougbt of for a moment ! Ile rose and walked about his cell as though he would find in motion an escape from his dreadful thoughts; but there was no escape As he paced back and forth despair kept step with him : he saw the awful end, and then all thought of self was banished in a moment at the ye-, collection of his mother. She, the beautiful, highborn, heroic Agues Farrell, his mother to stand beside him in such a shameful death I He thought of the long array of martyred women, who had gone to their death as innocent of crime as she; hut their names had grown brighter with the flight of years' and to blemish remained to dim their glory. But she, his loved, and loving mother— At that moment, the deputy-sheriff looked in to see if the prisoners were comfortable for the night. truest eagerly asked for news of his mother. "She is sleeping," replied the officer, "the doctor has given her a composing draught, and Mrs Blunt is with her for the night," the man tensed away. A composing draught Ernest's thought; flew , at once to the phial Sheriff Martin had put into his hand, and which he had placed out of sight in his table-drawer. He opened the drawer, and took It out. Here was hope in this black drug, as the 'buil! had called it "It shall never 001114 to !Aar fisr 'her " he said, thinking of all the hideous para. phernalia of the scaffold. " No, if self-murder is easfeesion, if it is coward. Its—it is•deoent sad dignified death, at least, and hat la sa there is left for either of us. in this world.  jou, Erneat." Her lover placed a sealed letter in the young "liris hand. hays written you many letter* , but none so sad as this one." She kissed the missive, fondly looking into his face with woful, compassionate eyes. "One wish, I will repeat to you with ray lip.; when the last hour comes, see that my mother —'be could say no more; forth. first time since the tragedy he burst into passionate weeping. be riolenee of his grief calmed Virgin at once. "I will, I will," she cried, "dear, innocent, martyred woman; is she not my mother also?" His head was on bar bosom, and she soothed him with that divine maternal love that is born in the heart of every woman, to be poured like balm on the braised and bleeding hearts of the auffering children of men. "My darling, my darling,. it breaks my heart to 'see you like tads. Do not die of grief! I cannot bear to leave you thus r " Forgive me, my Virgin! this dreadful thought has unmanned me. lam vary weak to distress you so. Your visit has indeed comforted ma, and eased my burdened heart. Remember, love, that you have never made me anything but inexpressibly happy; my last earthly 'thought shall be of you, my earliest