Year: 1873

ever remain there until 1 hdUe fulfilled


my stoorn uolU.


This last expression he pronounced
with deep emphasis and unusual earn
estness. Pausing for q few moments
evidently for the purpose of controlling
a strong feeling, he proceeded.


''There are some men in the world to
whom nature seems to have denied the
commonest feelings of our race-men
who have no humanity about them
menwho despise and disclaim.everything
like sympathy, as troublesome and out
of place, and who would as soon dwell
in a desert or on an island shut out
from the world as anywhere else, save
perhaps that they could not have virtue
and innocence to prey on; in short,
your cool, calculating scoundrels, who
witness the suffering they bring by the
qualification of their hellish passions.


MY sister Ann w.ls one of those spe-
cimens of loveliness and credulous con-
that we sometimes see combined.
One of those girls which, if fortune
does not too sorely try, makes perfect
woman.


There was O certain notary in my
town by the name of Addison. My
fathers business was transacted by him,
and through this circumstance we came
to be intimate with his family. 1t was
a sad day for all of us when we became
acquainted with them.


Samuel Addison was upwards of
fifty years old, bore a good reputation,
and had an extensive business. My
affairs in his hands never suf-
fered. He was punctual, correct, dill
gent in all his acts, and yet beneath
this garb he bore the heart of a tiend
incarnate.


"My sister Ann formed a great at
tachment for the wife of Samuel Addi-
son, and scarcely day passed that she
did not pay them a visit, for We were
close neighbors. Nor was 1 less i'm
pressed with the integrity of the Addi-
sons than others of our family. Charles
Addison and myself were inseparable
being trifie his senior !;
but our ages nearly corresponded,
though you would scarcely think it.
Now when 1 look back on my life, / can
perceive the perils might have avoided
if had possessed the spirit of prophecy.
This alone could have saved me the ills
1 have suffered, and as this gift is no
longer vouchsafed 30 mortal men, it was
not strange that mingled in the vortex
that engulphs the unfortunate. don't
think have deserved the care, sorrow
and grawing grief 1 have borne for so
many years, in that l have wilfully
done evil. Have 1 crimes to confess
Not yet, though soon 1 may. Have 1
debauched my morals or debased my
No, not In thought. Has
time fled with careless hours till l am
his debtor for more than future industry
will pay? Not so. This can never be
truthfully charged to me. and over them
l utter no lamentation. But what l do
lament is, the confidence 1 put in my
the betrayal of the common
ties that bind mind to mind, man to
man.


''It was during the period that our
intercourse with the Addison family
was unrestrained, that went to Europe.
My father years before had promised
me this trip, and 1 was to be absent six



81 had been gone about two months
when l received intelligence that my
sister was engaged to Charles Addison,
but the event would be deferred until
my return. The news was pleasing to
me, for valued Addison notwithstand-
ing his fippant character. I thought l
had discovered something good in him,
though very many people regarded him
with disfavor.


81 was almost ready to return to my
home, when the next arrival across the
ocean brought me a letter from. my
father that nearly drove me insane. In
an evil hour my poor confiding sister
had yielded to the temptations of her
and surrendered all that
woman values-life, soul and honor.


"Almost crawling to the door of
Samuel Addison, she told her tale of
shame, aad implored the father to
cause the son to make good his promise.
With a stern command never more to
show her face to him, my unhappy sis
ter was spurned from his door, and his
son sent abroad. When l was able to
reach home all that was mortal of my
sister was sleeping beneath the green
grass in the churchyard.


"For three weary years have watched
and watched to perform a vow, of which
l have never repented. 1 have a stern,
dark, terrible duty to perform, and it
shall be done as an earnest man should
do it."


He ceased, and gazed at Peter Horn
with quivering lip and glistening eye.
The latter was evidently at loss to
reply, for he looked intently at the end
of his fishing rod, and appeared in deep
reflection.


"What do you think such a fend de-
serves?" inquired Long with a fierce
ness Horn scarcely deemed him capable
of evincing.


"T'm afraid to tell you," replied the
schoolmaster. "It is a very, very sad
trial you have known"


Long indulged in low, bitter laugh.


"Do you know that the community
in which we live have quite forgotten
this terrible crime? 1t but serves to
illustrate the structure on which society
is built. All have forgotten the great
wrong but those whose hearts will ache
over the remembrance until they are
laid at rest"


For the next few days Martin Long
walked in the vicinity of
Mr.. Affords mansion. One morning
Horn, having a vacation in his school,
called for his friend to take walk.


Willingly" replied Long, ''for 1
had dream last night, or rather, per-
haps, I ought to term it vision. Ny
poor sister came to me and informed
me that we should soon meet. DO you
k,aO,Q lChat that means ?"


The schoolmaster shook his head,
his friends mind was wander
ing. "Come," he said, ''let US be of. "


There was high bluff about mile
east of Mr.. Affords home, and the cliff
looked directly over a ravine filled with
broken rocks. A creek had once run
there, but years before it had gone dry.


Horn and his friend seated themselves
among some bushes and began reading.
there came a step and the
sound of swapping twigs. and a few
later Charles Addison stood
IL