Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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" V ' ' - - .. . . t ^ m m ' j. ' * e * - " - s . + * .. % ? * , A * . * * ' ? " fcSk<$ . tstras a. aaxsT.piopriotor. [ ^ Bchisjaptt: Jfor l|t ^ramolimi rf t|{ folitiral, Saaai, %ritnltel Mb ComrafrmI firfmsls of % Sanft. - ' ? . . .1 . . . * afe, gg "" " ' ; ' 5 1 ' " < YOLUMEII. ' YORKVILLE, SOUTH CAROLINA, THURSDAY MORNING, J AMI ART 25, 1866. 7.- ' 2fUMBER^0.r . ' ? ??? ' 1 ' ' " ?'1 ?' i ** ? . WHY THE BOBIN'S BBEAST IS BED. The Saviour, bowed beneath his cross, Ciomb up the dreary hiJl, And from the agonizing wreath ? Sao many a crimson rill. The orawney Soman thrust him on. With unrelenting handTill, staggering slowly 'mid the crowd, Be fcil upon the sand. - A little bird that warbled near, That immemorial day, Flitted round and strove to wrench ' * . One shigle thorn away; The cruel spike IxnjKjJed his breast, *? And thus lis sweetly said, The Robin has his silver vest Incarnadined with red. *2" Ah I Jesu ! Jcsu! Son 6f Man! My dolour and my sighs Reveal the lesson taught by this Winged Ishmael of the skies. I, In the palace of delight, p$ucM<no1Sojmsiro^ydw brow *. But planted thousands there! " JU Original Jfatg. Written far the Yorkvllle Enquirer. BLUE AND GREY; OB, THE FORTUltES OF WAR. BY CLAUDE FOBBESTEB. CHAPTERVI. ' And now, Ellen/ said Williams, as soon. as Susan had left the room, 'who is this Captain Faulkenertowhom you seem to have taken such a fanoy V 'That does not at all oonoern yon, Mr.' Williams,' replied Ellen, looking down upon the carpet. J 'Bat,' said he, quite surprised at such an j unexpected reply, 'I can see no impropriety in affording me any information I may be ! inclined to ask/ 'But I do, though,' said Ellen. 'But, Miss Ellen, I cannot understand why there should be mystery in anything between us/ 'And why not between us V asked Ellen, looking up with an expression of oountenanee denoting intense surprise. 'Because?because?' 'Because what ?' asked Ellen, thumping indifferently upon the keys of the piano'Because I love you Miss Ellen,' said Williams, the tears gathering in his eyes, 'aye Move you with a deep passionate love !' 'Well,' said she, 'what has that to do witb Captain h'aulkenor ? He has do objections, I presume, to anybody loving me.' 'But you love him, Mist Ellen; love him with the warmth and fervor of the hear* that I would claim in all undivided affections.' ?- ?? ? s? 'Of course I do,' said Ellen ; 'but I cannot imagine why that should affect you se much. . I can love both of you?do love both of you.' 'But, dear Ellen/ said Williams, struck with the cbild-like simplicity of the beautiful girl, 'tbat is not what I am speakiug about?not the love that I feel for you.? Nay 1 leave your musio alone and listen to me. Do you know that from the first hour I beheld you, I have been utterly wretched when absent from you and only happy while sitting beside you and listening to the melody of your own sweet voioe ? Do you know that during the livelong day I am thinking of you and longing for the time when I oan be witb you ? Do you know that your image haunts me during the night and the memory of your sweet voioe blesses and rejoices my heart even in dreamland ? v Do yon know that a smile of yours can brighten and gladden all my life and a frown make it all desolate, dark and sad V EUen wee silent, her lips partially apart and her soft blue eyes fixed upon the earnest faoe of Williams with the most intense interest 'Yes, dear Ellen,' continued Williams, 'there is not an hour in the day that you are not present in my thoughts, not a moment in an lionr when the mere oonsciousness of yonr existeooe does not bless my heart with a rapture unspeakably sweet and preoioos. Yonr image looks np to me from tho open Ledger, smiles upon me even from the sa' ored page of inspiration, flits before me, and attracts my attention, even in the sacred hour of prayer, and lives in my heart san abiding presence, beautifying my whole existence with its potent influence, and anotifying life with all the sweetness of a benediction.' Ellen involuntarily pressed the hand that held her own and said, with an artlessness perfeotly irresistible,jbeoause perfectly sincere : 'But it must be sinful to feel so, Mr. Williams.' 'Do you realfy think so, Ellen ?' asked Williams, looking down npon the earnest, lovely faoe of the girl. 'Don't you think that these very feelings were implanted in the human heart by our heavenly father, for the happiness of his creatures ?' 'Bat yoa are not happy, Mr. Williams,' said Ellen. 'Not while this dreadful suspense presses bo heavily npoo my heart, aiiss alien; dut only hold oat to me the feeblest hope, that, at tome bright day in the coming years? it matters not how far distant?you will bestow upon me, in some measure, the love that I feci for you, and then indeed will my happiness be complete ' 'Shall I promise that wliiob I have no .power to perforin V asked Ellen. 'And why have you no power over your - /v? - * ? T_ Ja t J 1 own heart s auecaon : in n suuaru^tu iuve me, Miss Ellen ?' 'Hard to love you,' repeated Ellen, with much wanntb, <0, no, Mr. Williams ! It comes quite natural to me to feel towards you the otmost degree of affection and gratitude,?bnt [ do not feel towards yon hs you fcel towards me. In faot, sir, I am oooscious of no attachment to anybody in all the world, nor am I quite sure that T ereu understand anything about it.' 'Alas!' exclaimed Williams, 'I know that you do not?my own heart tells me as - ^ - - * : v> - . * . * . . much; but listen to me, dear Ellen, jet awhile. If the whole world and all within were mine, I should feel myself poor indeed, if your heart's love were not numbered a tnoDg my other possessions while on the oth er hand; I would esteem myself enriched, in the oonscioasness of your love, though deprived of all else upon earth. Aye ! take away Mends and fortune?home and conn, try; oast me out from among my fellow men arts) aIiaa ma nnnn onma hnrran into nVAl which the skies are never fair, and upon whioh the sunshine never falls; imprison me with fiends in the blackness of perpetual darkness and deprive me of all hope of escape?let me hot catoh the tones of your voice, and feel yonr breathings npon my cheek, and the pulsation of yonr heart against my own, and kqow that yon are beside me, and the darkness will grow radiant in imperishable glory, and the sool within me break oat into songs of triampb in spite of the horrors aroand me. Can yoa understand this!' <Oh, no, 10 !' exclaimed Ellen, trembling and bnrying her faoe in her hands, while a strange and unutterable emotion thrilled her whole nature. <It is Binful te talk in that way, Mr. Williams;?I cannot, must not, will not hear you ! I am incapable of feeling thus ; and, if this be the expression of your love for me, I regret its existence, I depreoate its consequences, and fear its contagion.' ?Bnt, listen to me, Ellen,' said Williams, surprised at this sudden burst of emotion. <No, no,' she replied; <1 have already heard enough?too much 1 All that you have so strangely, said,?wickedly said? leaves but one impression upon my mind, and, that is, that you have cause to blame me for your wretobedness and unhappiness, by begetting within your heart all manner of wild and enthusiastic hopes, whioh are utterly baseless, and sentiments towards me which I cannot reoiprooate.' 'Blame you V exclaimed Williams starting, as 8 shade of agony olouded his brow, 'God forbid that I should do so, Ellen !? No, no; if I am unhappy and wretched, as you say; if my hopes, whioh have been making music in my heart since you first looked upon me, are all baseless and vain; if my sentiments can meet with no response from you, I must not blame you, dear El lea/ Then pausing and looking upon the quivering lip, the averted eye and the heaving bosom of the obild-woman beside him, he added in a calmer tone: 'And yet, Ellen, I did hope to win your love?did aspire to your hand, thongh I never made known this bopo by words, in boisterous declarations of love. And now, dear Ellen, as you tell me that my hopes are baseless, let me tell you why I did not deem them so. Nay ! do not turn away, Ellen. I *will be calm and self posseted iu all I have to say.' 'But, Rlr. Williams/ said Ellen, 'are yon aware that. I disapprove of your pffesent conduct ??that I think your persistence iu it exceedingly an fair and unkind ? Is this interview premeditated and planned, or has mere accident given you this opportunity Pray let me hear.' 'Miss Ellen/ said Williams, 'before coming here this evening I made up my mind to declare my lovej if an opportunity occurred. The absence of your father, Mrs. Rogers and Miss Subsu, taken together with the rattier singular language ot tne latter, would lead me to tbe conclusion that mj purpose was known, and my designs anticipated.' 'That cannot be, sir,' said Ellen, 'for father and Mrs. Rogers invariably retire early. Tbe singular oonduot of Susan is quite inezplioable to me, but no doubt, very well undeistood between yourselves. X, at least, anticipated nothing of this ; am quite surprised at what has occurred, and, as I said before, disapprove of your conduct.' 'Miss Ellen/ said Williams, surprised at the sudden obango in her manner, 'you have not usually spoken in this' harsh manner to me. Gas Captain Faulkener had nothing to do with this strange and unnatural behavior V 'Captain Faulkener would no doubt anBwer that question and more satisfactorily/ replied Ellen. . 'Possibly so/ said Williams getting up and walking to and fro in great agitation of mind; 'but, if Miss Ellen has any regard for the feelings of an unhappy man, to whom she may possibly feel some little gratitude, she would answer tbe question, Kfiraftlf ' % 'Captain Faulfeener knows nothing of your sentiments and feelings towards me, Mr. Williams, and is in no way responsible for any ohange of manner, which your excited imagination may have discovered in me. Yon speak of gratitude, sir, and imply by your language, that I am unconscious of bow large a measure I am indebted to you. Is it kind ??is it generous in you to refer to my rescue from death at this time' and under sucb exceedingly delioato circumstances? To be plain, Mr. Williams, do you think that, because you prolonged my existence that my life should dedicated to you and all personal olaims upon myself be abandoned V 'No, Miss Ellen !' said Williftms, with efiphasis, 'you know me better than that. I lay no claim upon your love, merely from the fact of saving your life ; but I do claim an honest and respectful reply to a question that so nearly concerns us both. In justice to Captain Faulkener it should merit a frank and candid reply/ '1 have already exonerated that gentleman from all blame attaching to my conduct towards you/ said Ellen. But is Captain Faulkener in love with you?' ? 'Not in the sense in which you use th? word, Mr. Williams?not in the general sense even, in which that word is applied.1 > 'Aud do you love liiiu V asked William* looking nneasily upon Ellen, whose face was crimsoned with blushes. 'For th< sake of heaven 1 do not evade the question.1 'I do/ said she, lifting her bead and i looking Williams fall in the face; then observing the effect of her reply, she added, ?but not with the love which yon have spoken of. I know nothing of that, sir; feel > nothing of it. Bat yoa are ill, Mr. Williams/ she added feelingly, observing the i deathly paleness that had so suddenly . overspread his features. <tfo, Miss Ellen/ he said pressing his 1 hand to his brow, 'not ill, but dead?quite i dead! Existence may still be mine?a dark, nnnrofitable existence?-but life, heart life, went out,with your last utterances 1? Hope, expectation, desire and ambition are all gone now, and the heart within my bosom is marble-oold. I shall go oat into the world like some'unhappy ghost, the mere shadow and skeleton bf my former self? and men shall think . I lire, while yon alone shall know that I died here this very night?a murdered man !* Ellen Btarted to her feet, and trembling from head to foot was about to speak, but ; the broken-hearted man held out his hand and said, with a thrilling pathos, that lingered long upon the'ear and troubled the heart, of Ellen: <And, now, good bye ! In the utterance of these words I feel that I am bidding good bye to a hope far sweeter than the love of life and to a. blessedness as holy arf a mother's benediotfon; I feel that, the sunshine has gone from my sky, the flower from my life-path, and that a woe has come down upon my heart darker that the night; I feel that the golden links that bound me to the past and future are broken and that the summerle8s years whioh are coming upon me are pregnant with an untold and bitter sorrow. And yet, good bye V Then pressing her dainty bands to his lips and gazing long and lovingly upon her faoe, now suffused with tears, be suddenly left the room and was gone, before Ellen could recover from her surprise. Ellen stood motionless beside the piano, gazing through the open door, through whioh Williams had gone; then clasping her bands across her bosom, as though she would still its oonvnlsive heavings, she exolaijned, as the tears rolled .down hefoheeks: 'God pity him 1 God pity bim 1' m The next evening Williams did not pay his usual visit. - Mr. and Mrs. Rogers suggested a hundred probable reasons for his absence, while Susao sat quietly upon the low ottoman, listlessly turning the leaves of the old album, which was a bridal present to her dear departed mother in old lang syne. Ellen sat by the window, unusually silent and sad, occasionally turning and looking out into the street, as -though she either expected ** ^ proaob. The lid *of the piano w^9 down, the music-books all closed and the silence of all parties was exceedingly oppressive. The next evening came, another, and still another, and Williams was absent from bis accustomed seat beside the piano Mr. Rogers was certain that some unpsual press of business prevented him from coming; Mrs. Rogers felt asaac&d that nothing but sickness wonld keep bim away, and expressed an intention on her part of calling npon his landlady the next day. Susan glanced uneasily upon Ellen during these remarEB and surmises, and could not but be struck with the expression of sadness and disquietude which pervaded her features; but none but Ellen knew the drama wbioh had been enacted, none suspected the part which she had been called*upon to perform?none but Susan guessed at the real cause of the mysterious absence of Williams. * The days grew into weeks and Williams was still absent. No tidings of him could be gathered from any source whatever, an. til one morning a sailor handed two letters to Mr. Fortescue,-~one for himself and the other for Mrs. Rogers. CHAPTER VII. < A letter from Nassau for me 1'said Mrs. Rogers entering Susan's apartment and holding np the letter. 'Now who do you suppose could, should or would address me from that miserable little plaoe ?' 'Why, Mr. Williams, of ooarse,' said Susan, looking eagerly up from her embroidery work. 'Mr. Williams??why, bless your soul, child! I never thought of that! But no; that cannot be so either. What in the world would ever take bim there ? Nassau, indeed 'The letter, itself, will explain that,' said Susan, impatiently.' 'True enough !' said Mrs. Rogers, nervously breaking the seal and cautiously taking the letter from the envelope, 'now who in the world would, oould have thought of that but you, Susan ? What's this??ahem! Dear Madame?read it for me Susan. I am so nervous that I really do not know? Oh, dear me!' Susan eagerly took t^e letter from the trembling hands of Mrs. Rogers, and read as follows: iDear Madam. Ycu have accomplished your diabolical end, and implanted in my heart a rankling thorn, from which death alone can relieve me.' 'Merciful heavens!' exclaimed Mrs. Rogers, with uplifted hands, 'did ever anybody bear the like of that ? Whyr the man is crazy?stark, raving mad V 'Step by step bave yoa led me on to toe precipice over whiob I have fallen , and from the dark and inextricable abyss, in which I find myself, I send op this'noavailing appeal to yoo.' 'Did you ever!' exclaimed Mrs. Rogers. ; 'Through your invitations I was thrown night after night into the fasoinating society i of Miss Elleo ; and, as our acquaintance bocame more intimate, you encouraged me in i" every conoeivable way to believe myself an L object of interest to the innooent girl/ ' Mrs. Roger's ooughed. i 'After the lapse of time, when 1 spdke > of the impropriety of my frequent visits, ) you urged mo to continue them, and as an ' inducement, told me that Ellen delighted * m in my society and manifested considerable affection for me.' 'Why, Mrs. Rogers 1' ..exclaimed Sosan, indignantly. 'Don't yon perceive, child, that the man is crazy? Why, I never even conversed with him about Ellen.';/ Sosan sighed, and continued: 'When disguise was do longer possible I opened my whole heart to yon, that yon might see the image ef dear Ellen there. I told yon of my padonate Jove?my-almost sinful adoration. Did you not enoonrage me even then, by assuring me that Ellen loved me, and that a becoming maidenly modesty alone, kept back the declaration from her Hps.' 'Oh ! this is shatnefoi, cruel!' said Snsan. ... ' 'Give me the letter 1' almost screamed Mrs. Rogers rising from her chair and snatobine it from the bands of Sosan. 'The man ia orazy, I tell you 1?raving mad ! I will bear no more of bis delirious nonsense.' (As 1 hope for meroy at the bands of my maker/ said Susan, <1 believe Mr.- Williams an outraged mao! Ellen must be informed of this/ And she arose from her seat and walked towards the door. *8topl' exclaimed Mrs. Rogers/, stop ! I command yon 1' 'And wherefore should I oboy V asked Susan. V (Because I command obedience and am able to enforoe it/ said Mrs. Rogers, in a towering passion. Then observing with what little effect she had spoken, she added in a jcalmer tone. (Now Snsan, tell toe where would be the propriety in making known to Ellen what has been written by a demented man, sinoe nothing bnt her unhappinoss oan be accomplished by such an ! unreasonable course of action V Susan hesitated and Mrs. Rogers continued : (It would be more in keeping .with your usual generosity-of heart; more consistent with your ohristian , profession, to place the most charitable oonstruotion upon J the share in tl)is transaction imputed to me, whether Unjustly or not. Whether I am really guilty or not, 'of the serious charges so unexpectedly brought against me, time will prove; but in the meantime, I I he Bee oh you, Susan, to make known nothing to Ellen, not simply On my account, bnt for her sake/ Susan reflected a few moments and then replied: (Bad as the case would be, a thousand times rather would I know of the insanity of Mr. Williams, than he compelled to believe you guilty of these cruel charges. However, your request shall be granted.? TCHan ftf-ar Uftlhiag frntr ? your consent, of these rery culpable disclosures.' 'Disclosures!' said Mrs. Rogers, looking upon Snsan suspiciously, (why do you make use of a word so entirely out of place, so foreign to the subject ? I do uot know that anything baa been disclosed but the insanity of the writer, in the absurdity of his obarges, id tbe prolusion ot nypemoie ana the palpable exhibition of a sponatic tirade of unmeaning abuse. Disclosures indeed !' and, so saying she ereoted her head disdainfully, and majestically glided oat of the room. Sasan looked after her for a moment; then bnried her faoe in the cushion on tbe lounge and -crept, as though her heart would break. While in this position a hand waslaid gently among her sunny carls,*and, looking op through her tears, she beheld tbe sad, pale and nnhappy face of Ellen. I did not think that anybody in all the world was unhappy bat me/ she said; 'but what trouble has come-down upon your heart, dear Susan T Oh my I Everything now wears to me saoh a sad aspeot! I have been in the garden among the flowers and in the bright sunshine, but, somehow or other, I couldn't find any pleasure and satisfaction there; then I tried to practice my musio a little, bat the piano didn't sound like it used to; and, for tbe life, of me, I oouldn't learn that new piece papa was so kind to send for all the way to Nassau. Then I went in the library to read a little, but papa and Mr. Fortescoe were there izf close conversation, and the expression of their faces a are, srtnnd. that T ?u sorrv I Went in. In coming oat I met my mother, (Ellen always called her bo) and ebe did not even reply to me when I asked her a simple question, but "brushed by me so quioklyaud looked bo worried, that I did not know what to make of her at all. At last I came here, and lo! I find you in tears?weeping as though you were over so unhappy. Dear, dear Susan, what is the matter ?' 'What shall rtell her ?' thought Suaan, J puttingTjerarm around the neck of Ellen and j kissing her pale cheek. 'How can I explain this emotion so unusual to me V?' Then observing the look of intense wonder and anxiety depioted in Ellen's countenance, she said, 'You will no doubt think me very foolish, Ellen, when I tell you 3 oandidlv that I do not know what I have been crying about?that is, I am not positive as to the cause.' 'Indeed!' said Ellen, a faint smile gleaming for an instant over her inexpressibly sad features, 'and pray, what do you think may i have thus'affected you 1 There must be a why and wherefore in such unusaal manifestations of sorrow or grief.' 'We have at last received some definite tidings of our mutual friend, Edwin Williams,' said Susan, watohing with peculiar interest, the Budden flush upon the brow and cheeks of Elleu. 'Ah !' she exclaimed, with an effort at indifferent attention, which was evidently assumed, 'and he ia-is-ia alive and well, I presume ?' ' 'Alive,' replied-Susan, 'but very far from being well.' . - N . 'And \:hat ia the.matter with him (? Where is he V - - ' r 'To answer jour last qqeatiun first,'.said Susan, 'he is, or was, when heard from, in Nassau. Your own heart can furnish a $? *& ' t * - t reply to the first question, whether satisfactorily or not, you know best.' < 'My heart speaks to me now in an. un- ; known tongue,' said Ellen, looking down i upon the carpet and sighing; then sudden- i ly looking up, she added, "but you mean ; something by that remark, Susan ; something you must reveal. Why should any- ; thing oonoecning Mr. Williams affeot me ?' 'Aye!'replied Susan, <why should it ?' 'But it does not,' said Ellen, turning away and waking to the window . in evident confusion. 'Ellen,' said Susan, kindly, 'oome back and sit beside me awhile?only a little i while. I wish to have a little conversation itoiiV nim fikrtnt Wiltioma Vrw [ WIMI jvm auvuv jyuiuu > *vvwr< don't start and give me saoh a look of innocent wonder,, dear Elleb; bat come and sit right down here and tell me what has passed between the poor fellow and yourself to make both of yoa so very unhappy and wretched. ~ Come 1' 'If Mr. Williams is wietohed and an- < happy on my aoconnt, beoaose of anything said or done by me, I am heartily sorry for it?God knows I am I' 'Bat, dear Ellen, why do yoa say if he is wretched on year aocoant, unless yoa have reason to believe that he is- -to know, , assuredly, that saoh is the ease 9 This is just what I wish to oonverse withy on about; and, believe me, Ellen, I love yoa too dearly, and respeot yonr feelings too highly, , than to drag any secret from yoar heart, for the mere gratification of an idle whim or a foolish oariosity. No, no, Ellen; yoa know me better than that! Yoa know that if the burden is too heavy for yon, how gladly my own shonlder wonld glide beneath it and bear it for yon, or at least, with yoa.1 Ellen was silent, so Sosan continued.? 1 <1 know,, dear Ellen, that some oload has i drifted over the stars, some shadows fallen apon the sanshine ; I feel assared that some < unknown and sadden sorrow has darkened < your hitherto bright and happy existenoe. Now, listen to me, and do not be angry, if, j what I am about to say, appears imperti- < nent and ill-timed. Yoa were happy while i Edwin Williams was here, happy ap to the < boar I left yoa together that evening? I Since that time, antil awhile ago, no tidings : whatever has been heard of the poor fellow, and yoa have become sad, nnoommhnioa- : tive and anhappy, from some unknown ; cause The smile has gone from your lips; the bright from yoar eyes and the roses from your cheeks; and all this only sinoe that 1 night when Mr. Williams and yourself i parted,, for the last time. Dear Ellen, what has occurred to drive him away from all his , newly formed and pleasant associations to , i > J)' ni ?? A yoa both so attorly wretched sod unhappy? Come, Ellen I if I am worthy of ^onr confi- ( denoo, come, and tell me all.' ( 'Bat, what have I to tell yoa, 8as?n, that you do not already know ? It is plain that yoa know all aboat it.' 'I infer from the singular condact of Ed- ; win*Vil!iams, and yoar own entire change j of manner, that something has occored of j an unpleasant character between yoa. What that something is, I am not positively assared in my own mind, bat, if of sufficient" importance to affeflt yoar peace of mind, it certainly is of interest to me' Then, after a moment's reflection, daring which she observed the agitation of Ellen's mind by the even varying change of the expression of her faoe she said, Mr. Williams made a declaration of his love; did he not ?" 'He did,' replied Ellen, in a subdued voice. . 'And offered yoa his heart and band, hirth con niefltfld.' 'No, do, Susan," paid Ellen, bursting into tears; 'before I ooutd even bear the expression of his love towards me, I rejected him. Had I calmly listened to .his tale of love, no donbt the offer which yon speak of would have been made also, but, 0, Susan! i I could not, dared not, calmly endure the wild, singular, sinful expression of his sen- i timeots. 'Sinful!' repeated Susan, Queasily.? 'Calm yourself, dear Ellen, and explain ! your singular, language/ i 'Well,'said Ellen, sitting beside Susan, i and putting her arn^ around her neck. '1 will try to be more explicit?will tell you all about it, and then you can tell me wketb- *j er I have acted right or wrong?whether I am to be pitied or blamed/ 'That is the best way, dear Ellen,?pray,* proceed 'Before., I dp so,' said Ellen, 'will .you j promise to say nothing of this to any member of the family, until yon have my permission to do so V . , 'j (Bat, why bind me to seoresy ?' 'That is a qaestion whiob I do not intend ( to answer, at present,*said Ellen. 'Will yon , promise V ^ ' 'How can X possibly do so, when I do not know what may be the subject of your revelations?your confessions, perhapB V ( 'Very well, yon shall hear what I have to ! con/ets first, and then nse your own judgment in the matter. If you see proper to publish it, do so; if not, retain it to yourself/ : Then, after a pause, she said: 'The mo- i ment Mr. Williams fonud himself alone with me,-^for the very first time, mind !? j be abused the privilege and took an nnfair advantage of the opportunity, by asking impertinent question abont Captain Faulkner, whioh I did not choose to answer quite to his satisfaction, because I object to the i very ungentlomanly manner in which they were asked/ 'That does not surprise me in the least,' said Su^pn, smiling at the earnestness of ?hAn ?? J&IIOD 9 lllOUUQI j "UUfcj nuc?u vuwu ? v 'What tben ??why, I told him that he had better mind hi.s own business.' ?You did !?fo these very wordsy Ellen ?' 'No, no, not exaotly in these words, 're- 1 plied Ellen, impatiently, 'for I sngared the pill snffioiently, I trust to make it palatable.' 'Ellen,' Kttid Susan, laughingly, <yon are a queer girl. I hope yon did not insult the young gentleman.' " *' W &&&#* - - ; t 'No, indeed, Susao; . I merely led him to understand, that I did not like the disrespectful manner in wbioh he questioned me about the Captain. He did not appear satisfied; however, even after I had very plainly intimated my %nwilKagness to give him any information on the subject, bnt began talking about the unfeasonableness of mystery or secrete between us. Now, not seeing wlyr there should not be mystery between us, and not exactly of his opinion as to the propriety of divulging my seerets, I plainly expressed my surprise, and candidly told that I did hot either appreciate or understand his remarks at all. He then questioned me in regard to my feelings to- I wards Captain Faulkener. and his feeling# I towards me. To be plain, Susan, he actually asked me right out, if the Captain loved me and if I reciprocated bis-lore.' 'And you replied in the negative, of oourse/ said Sunn. No, indeed ! I answered-in the affirmative, with a qualification,' said Ellen. - 'But that waa exceedingly improper, Elleu,' said Susan, iu unfeigned amazement. ' Bat how did you qualify your strange reply?' Why,. I told him that the lore I felt towards the Captain was no greater than what I felt for himself; that I loved all my friends.' 'Ah ! that will do very well; btft waa he satisfied with that?' Very far from it/ said Ellen. 'He told me that, that was not the kind of love he was speaking about; that he could be satisfied with nothing but the undivided affectionsof my whole heart. Then be tried to tell me with what kind of love be loved me; and, O, Susan! this was so sudden, so unexpected and so strange to hear him talk in that way, that I could not bear even to look upon him.' Then, after a pause, she continued: 'If I bad sospeoted suoh a declaration, or, if, when deolared, it had been in oalm, collected, and gentle words, perhaps the result would not have been quite as bad; but, to start from bis chair so suddenly, to pour upou my ear snob a deluge of passionate utterances, while his large dark eyes flashed Upon me and his frame trembled in the intensity of emotion ?this was more.thanl oonld endure, more than I felt the circumstances of the case justified.' 'Poor-fellow!' said Susan, with a sigh., His jealousy of Captain Faulkener was ' l:. e the cause or his earnest manner?ma-ieai of losing 70a distracted him.' But why didn't he sit quietly beside me, u you are now doing, and talk tbe matter quietly over ? I did net know that he loved iuw, 1 um uukjk-'u uienui iii&i iuj m (jiuwuu. any particular time to speak to me on the subject; and beside all this, I thought papa should bare been consulted before any young gentleman would even be allowed a private interview with pe' Very wisely argued, dear Ellen,' said Susan, thoughtfully looking dowo upon the floor, 'very wisely, indeed. We are .all to blame far more than yourself, for what has taken place; and while I cannot but agree with jou, chat Mr. Williams has acted very injudiciously indeed, and has manifested an unbecoming want of even ordinary disore-, tioo, still I am disposed to make every allowance for his baste and want oT^aot, when . I think of the positive wrong, and injustice donp yon both by your too indulgent father, in allowing and even encouraging an inti? - ?? ?k!?k ka*a ManUait bn btlllv. (t lnMt luoujr iruivu uao ivouiwi* ow ?- ??to Mr. Williams. Bat, dear Ellen, areyoa quite sure that jour conscience is dear in \ this matter ??quite sure, that you have not, intentionally, by word or aot, encouraged bim to believe that his love was reciprooated in any measare whatever V . 'Never, never, never/ replied Ellen. 'I was not even consoious of bis love, never for a moment give bim the slightest encouragement to believe me io any way interested in him, save as a very dear friend, to whom I owed my very life. This, he knew very well, nor do I believe he .would have' spoken to me on the subject at all, bad not my familiarity with Captain Faulkener, which he misunderstood, attracted his attention and ezoited his jealousy/' 'Very well/ said Susan, 'but to return to your last interview with poor Edwin Williams, did you positively rejeot bis offer ?' 'As I said before,' replied Ellen, 'he made me no formal offer at all, hot in a wild, boisterous and almost dramatic manner, de- . dared his love and adoration in language ?''i ?. J : rp? | toe most extravaguut iuu tuvhuuuo. him, I was more thsa life, more than fortune and friends, home and country; more than honor, fame,, reputation and glory.? Without me heaven WereheU, and in the 'i Bonsoiousneaa of my love, even, the regions of despair would grow radiant with untold glory and would re echo with his shouts of triumph- My image haunted him, looked upon him from his ledger, from the page of inspiration, and stood between bim and bis God, even while in prayer/ Shooting 1' exolaimed Susan. 'Shocking, indeed I So shocking that I actually feared'to look npon him; and with averted eye and trembling heart, I told him it was wrong and sinful and that I felt nothing, and knew nothing of snoh a love. If what, he had so sinfully uttered, was an expression of his love for me, I deprecated its existence, feared its consequences', and could not reciprocate bis sentiments. All. this I told him.' : v. . > <Apd so the interview ended?' said Susan. 'No, indeed) for, after what Ltold him, he grew ashy pale; and, fearing be was ill, I asked him if he was not With a look that Itoau never forget, he" told me that be was not ill, but dead?that his life went out at the utterance of my last words. Oh! you oaonot imagine the dreadful things be said or how terribly frightened I was when be took my hantt to bid me his final farewell ! If be bad said another word, or remained a moment longer, I believe I should have fainted; but, thank God I jast at the very moment when I felt tumble to endure the ordeal any longer, fceraabed item the room, more like a madmbli ithan aeahe man, and left me to the bitterness of my own raflections/ 1 'The bitterness of your own rdflection% Ellen? And pray what do yoo mean bf that.?' asked Susan. ?I do not know what it Was/ replied Ellen, 'but the moment after Mr. William* left, it seemed to me.that I had committed some dreadful net and was responsible for what might be4fce final retail of his difla^ pointed love. I bare beard of men committing suioido for like causes; and when I thought of the possibility of this unfortunate affair ending in the same way, I would hma aisauvwalda tmnmllMi William*, * and give him hack bis hope.' v~' 'That would have been a veiy an wise step, Ellen; and I am truly giad tint the opportunity did not present itself. You would . J not perjure yooraelf, my deaf friend? 4 would yon?' fystft /* 'No, no, Susan; not now, at any fate; ' hot to think that I should have been the cause of so much uhhspptatti to* man whom I really admin and nspeot, and to whom I have every reason to be grateful! 0, Susan !' and the poor girl weptaloupt. -Susan did not reproach . her for those tears?did not even try to quiet and soothe the unhappy girl; but, smoothing the toft brown curia, as- her bead laid, upon her shoulder, she just let her weep out ber new sorrow from her young heart without niter- * tj ing a Word. 'These are honorable tears, dear Ellen/ she said, as the fair girl raised heThead from her shoulder, -"and every true woman will tell you so. The woman who can calmly give the dbath blow to a lover'a hopee, whatever or whoever be' may be, and send bix? away from her aide into the oold world on- J$der the terrible pressure of uoruqoitted love - and blasted hopes, without a thought or oare for the oousequeoees, is unworthy of the gentle name she bests. It-is a sad thought, a very sorrowful reflection, to every right thinking mind, that we are capable of giving so much auhappiness tQa fellowbeing, particularly when we have reason to know that being really loves us.' I 'But, deaf Snaan, am I to be blamed or pitied for the part I haye been*obliged to. take in this unfortunate affair?' J 'Pitied, deer Ellen; bow wait you.bo blamed V 'But, do you really think, that Ah. Williams has given up all his pleasant andean profitable associations here, and gone all the way to Nassau, dp my account?' asked Ellen. 'Such would appear^to be the esse,' mid ... ?? y ^!>U8wrr j"" think,, fijpo thft* ^ne a* ? these days?after the was, maybe, he. will come back.' 'I do not know what are his present in- tentioqs, I am sure,' replied Susan. 'He * will no doubt take passage from Nassau to New York, and from there- home. Hie going to Nassau is a . matter of necessity, not choice.' .. runt*? 'And yon really think, that, if I had ?oepted him he wpnld not have gone?' <1 don't think anything about it,'jreplied Sosan,?I know it.' .. A pause ensued, wbi.oh was broken by a very queer question from Ellen, amounting to something like this: 'Suppose, Saaan, that you were Mr. Williams, aod that you had taken precisely the same course in this . matter ae he has done, would you have gone to Nassau ^ Susan smiled as she threw herarrfis around the neokof Ellon end replied, *No Ellen, dear; I should have tried again and again, before I would have abandoned such so enterprise or have given.up sueh a hope. Bat, yoo know, dear, that poor Mr. Williams did not know you as well as I do.' Ellen was silent a little while, then lifting up her heed from Sqmn's shoulder she said, mubh to this suprise of her friend ; 'Bat suppose that he should-come back after awhile, what would you do, if yon were in my placeV 'Avoid his society, of oourse.V 'But why?' asked Ellen, turning her bead very suddenly and looking out of the window- j? %< -orwe > ? lbs* mn *nn *alr innh * AlMCtimi. An*.r Ellen ? Your presence oonld only recall the past and reader him unhappy; and you certainly wonld not willingly inflict additional pain npon him < The sooner the poor . fellow can forget the existence of each a being as Ellen Sogers?if that is possible ?and falls in love with another, the better for him. Nothing in the world would give me so mnoh real satisfaction, if J wore in your place, aa-to hear thai Edwin Williams had married happily.' X 'Yes; bat woaidn't joa teei s xmaoi-oi?' (A kind of What, Ellen ? Why do yoa hesitate V 'Well, a kind of-of di-di-dislike to the la-dy he had married? I mean if you were in my place, yoa know/ ' 'Bat what in the name of common sense wobld I feel a dialike to har tot P asked Sown, in enrprise. 'Well/ said Ellen in beaatifal confusion, <1 don't know, bat it seems to me that Ed?, Mr. Williams, I mean, has no business to get married without my consent.? Now don't laugh so heartily, Susan, for I didn't mean to say exactly that either/ 'Well, do let me hear what you really mean, Ellen/ said Susan, restraining her ianghter with a great effort. . 'Well, 1 don't know exaotly bow to ex* press myself, for jast as I am about to say what 1 mean, my ideas get confosed, somehow or otherr?od Jor the life of me I cannot make voir understand me/ 'Bat I do - understand yoo,' Ellen,' said Sawn, seriously. 'Mr. Williams, your discarded lover, has a bold upon yoarheart, which ?he little dreamed and. which oven yoa are unconscious of, or unwilling to aoknowledge. Pear, dear Ellen, this is truly anfortanate I' v :". .. fTO BB COKTEffTJlD NEXT WEEK.] > '%4 v.'^Si y jffiftii '<1