THE MYSTERY OF HADDON'S FERRY.

Daily Telegraph (Napier), Issue 5148, 18 February 1888, Page 1 (Supplement)

THE MYSTERY OF HADDON'S FERRY.

THEU HOTHBLXST.

[by c. d. c. n. southwobth. "I CHAPTER XXXVII. geeteude's sacrifice. Gertrude gazed at Fitzgerald iv mute amazement. She had heard all his words, and she had understood their full meaning ; yet she could neither believe in her own hearing or credit her own understanding.

Meanwhile, standing before her, sad, pale, and firm, he held her little plump hands clasped in his hands with a strong grasp, and held her meek brown eyes riveted on his eyes by his steadfast gaze. 'Do you hear" me, my child ? Do you comprehend what I say to you?' he eagerly enquired, gazing intently down into the pure depths of those soft dark eyes, which she had no power to withdraw from his. • I tell you at this moment I am a free man, but I may be in the next an exile or a slave,' unless you save me. I am on the brink of a gulf of perdition, from which only your small hand can snatch mo. Will you dare to givo me this little hand, Gertrude? Will you dare to bo my wife, aud that within this hour?'

' I will dare to do whatever you wish. I onl}- want to do your will,' she answered, in a low voice vibrating with her soul's deep emotion.

She asked no questions, raised no difficulties, expressed no doubts, made no conditions with him who was to bo her husband. Her faith in him was as strong as her love for him was pure, and both were boundless. Then and there, at his asking, she offered up her young heart a pure and perfect sacrifice. He bent his stately head down lower towards her earnest little face, ho gazed deeper into tho depths of her brown eyes, and then ho repeated his question:

' Will you really be my wifo within an hour, Gertrude ?'

' Yes, if you will,' sho answered, softly, steadily. 'No matter what any one may say in opposition to your doing so?' he asked, tightening his clasp upon her hands.

•No matter what any one may say in opposition to my doing so,' she solemnly replied, as if repeating the words of some ritual.

' And will you not fear to do this, my sweet child?' ho tenderly, pityingly enquired.

•I will not fear, hy your side,' said Gertrude, in a low tone.

' Then you are, indeed, my own ! Heaven bless you, sweet girl; and, oh, may Heaven help me to bo true to you, and to make you happy !' ho fervently breathed, as he drew her to his bosom and pressed a kiss upon her pure brow. ' Well! upon my woiid—and honor !'

This exclamation came from Pat Fitzgerald, who had just opened the door and now stood on the threshold aghast. Gerald Fitzgerald did not for an instant lose his self-possession. He turned and drow the baud of his blushing companion within his arm, aud holding it protectingly there, siiid:

' Good morning, my merry courin. Can you toll me where I shall find Dr. Goodwin?'

' Yes, sir !' flushed Pat. ' You cum find him trotting up and down tho front passage, fretting aud fuming beoause it is growing late and he caunot get his jtoung people all together to go to Greenwood to your wedding !—there is where you will find him if you care to look for him. But will you tell me what in the old Scratch has brought you here on this your marriage-morning, when you ought to be at Greenwood ?' ' I will tell Dr. Goodwin, my dear girl! and that will be more to the purpose,' said Gerald Fitzgerald with a smile. 'Ah ! but who will tell Geraldine of this visit ? When shu hears it, I would not bo in your boots for a fast horse !' exclaimed Pat, maliciously. Colonel Fitzgerald did not reply; but with Gertrude's hand held caressingly within his arm, he moved towards the door, but was prevented from leaving tho room by the sudden entrance of Dr. Goodwin, with little May Faire ou his arm.

' Well, now, I havo got all three of you young Flibbertigibbets together, I suppose wo may start— What! you here, Colonel Fitzgerald ! For Heaven's sake, what has happened ?' exclaimed the doctor, in dismay at discovering the bridegroom ou his wedding-day bo far from the neighborhood of his bride. ' For Heaven's sake what can have happenedr' ' Nothing has happened, roy dear Doctor, but what might have been expected. Tho marriage engagement heretofore existing between Miss Fitzgerald and myself was yesterday broken off by mutual agreement,' replied Gerald Fitzgerald, in a voice steadied only by his own strong will. ' Humph .' liumph ! humph !' grunted the good doctor, slowly sinking into his old arm-chair and quite getting over his hurry to be off. ' Yes, it might have been expected. Yes, certainly it might have been expected. But you must have become accustomed to that sort, of thing by this time, .Colonel. And now! Have you ridden over hero this morning to ask me to mediate? Because if you have, my boy, I won't do it. I would not do it the last time, and I won't do it this time. A pair, let me tell you, who are always quarrelling before marriage, will never agree afterwards. The best thing you and Geraldine could do would be to separate forever.

4 1 think so too, sir, and—' ' Only you won't do it.' ' 1 was about to add, sir, that the separation is now a filial one.' ' Oh, yes, final until Geraldine writes you it note or sends you a message, when you will go back to her to have the same trouble repeated again and again—how many times ? la this misery to last forever, Gerald ? As your oldest living friend, I ask you.' 'What would you have me to do, sir ?' shrewdly enquired tho colonel. * You nay that your engagement with Geraldine Piteg-eruld is brok4_,„ off by mutuul consent?' said the doctor. ' Yes, sir.' ' And you are not in honor bound to her ?' ' No, sir, I am not.' 'Then enlist for a soldier ; ship yourself for a sailor. Go ou au exploring expedition. Find tho North Pole, or the soureo of the Mle. Put as many leagues of sea and land as possible between you aud the beautiful enchantress who rules aud ruins your life,' said the good minister, with emphatic jitti'iiestuess. •'J shall do better than that, sir. I shall put a worthier line between my heart and that unworthy shiverly,' gravely replied Gerald Fitzgerald, as he pressed the little hand of Gertrude and raised it to his lips. •Why, what do you mean hy that, Gerald ? And what on the face of the earth are you doing with my ward ?' exclaimed Dr. Goodwin, who seemed to be awakened for the first timo to the consciousness that during all this -jonvei'satiou (jfertrudc had stood by the side of Gwald Fitzgerald, with her hand resting on his loffcpym and clasped in his right hand. ' I have just asked Miss Haddon to be my wife, and she has made me very happy by her consent,' "aid Colonel Fitzgerald, with grave dignity, as he looked proudly and fondly down on the .shy, mnwrt {. irl who stood by his side. 'Eli? What—what—what? Bless my sioul alive ! This cannot be true !' exclaimed the astounded doctor. ' And I bring her to you to ask your blessing ou our union,' continued Colonel J'iUgeraM, ignoring the interruption. ' Gerald, •';>» must be raving mad ! That beautiful iiy.y fitixnt have at last succeeded iv unseating yoiu.' '.' exclaimed the doctor. 1 No : ou the contrary, she has bpjiight me at length to my senses. And I have resolved to put an impassable barrier between mo and herself. 1 .' You wovdd put au iinp_ss*blo barrier ' J?fitwecn .you and herself .' You would make

that poor girl's heart the barrier !' indignantly exclaimed Dr. Goodwin.

' This sweet girl has given me her heart, and I will shield it with my own. I will devote my life to her happiness,' calmly replied Fitzgerald, as ho carried her hand to his lips.

' Gertrude, what havo you to say to all this?' demanded the doctor, starting up from his chair, and beginning to walk uneasily about the room. 'Is this true? Havo you consented to marry Gerald Fitzgerald ?' ' Yes, it is true.'

' Yon would give yourself to this rejected bridegroom, fresh from his bride'srepulsion?' almost scornfully demanded tho doctor. ' Yes, since he wants to have me,' meekly but steadily replied the girl. * Do you love Gerald Fitzgerald, you poor, unhappy child, that you would throw your young heart away on a. disappointed, embittered, revengeful man, who marries you in wrath, but not in love? (I beg your pardon, Gerald, but this is the truth, and I must tell her so),' said tho good doctor, suddenly pausing and standing before the couple.

' Oh, by all means ! Put the case to her strongly—as strongly as you can. She will not forsake me! She has told me so!' exclaimed Fitzgerald, looking confidently down on the brown eyes that were again upturned in such deep reverence to his. ' Gortrude, my child, tell me truly: •Do you love GeraldFitzgeraldP enquired the minister. ' Yes, I love him,' said Gertrude, meekly. ' And how long since, you poor child ?' ' Ever sinco I first saw him. I could not help it, and indeed I did not want to help it,' she answered, in a low, timid, yet earnest manner. ' And you would marry him f •Yes.' ' But, you poor, unhappy girl, ho does not love you. He does not even pretend to love you. He has not even told you so. Why, then, do you consent to he his wifo ?' enquired tho doctor, as the tears aroso to his honest eyes. ' Oh, ohild ! why do you, marry him ?' Again Gertrude, clinging on Fitzgerald's arm, lifted her meek, appealing brown eyes to his face ere sho answered her guardian. 'I marry him because he wills mo to marry him ; and I lovo to do his will.' 'Are you answered, reverend sir?' enquired Colonel Fitzgerald, triumphantly. Then turning to Gertrude, he said : ' Foar nothing, sweet child. I will soon show them all whether I love you.' ' Within this hour—and half of it has already passed away. Dr. Goodwin, hero is our marriage license, taken out by me this morning from the Wildovillo Register's ofiice. Will you lead the way to tho church and pronounce the marriage benediction upon us ?' gravely enquired Fitzgerald. ' Stay, stay, stay, stay ! wo are not all lunatics together! You must have felt reasonably sure of winning this young girl's consent to havo got your license out,' said Dr. Goodwin in amazement.

' No, I did not. I only felt that there might be a chance for me. It cost but little to take out tho license, and so I took it ont to snvo time before coming here. Now, Dr. Goodwin, thirty-fivo minutes of the hour have passed away. ' Gertrude, my dear, do you really wish to many this gentleman so suddenly ?' questioned the doctor.

'Yes, sir; sinco he wills it,' meekly replied the girl. ' Gertrude, if I had tho power to prevent or defer this marriage, I would certainly exercise it in your interests to-day; but oh, I have not! Your grandfather's unwise will has mado it possible for you to marry whensoever and whomsover you will. Yet, Gertrude, as your oldest nnd best friend I would counsel you to bewaro of this hasty, rcckleses marriage—this mad marriage— contracted on one side in wrath, and for revenge, on the other an inordinate affection and blind idolatry. Gertrude, let me implore you to pause and reflect before you take this irrevocable step,' earnestly pleaded the doctor.

' Dear guardian, I have promised, and I will keep my promise,' said the girl. 'Fitzgerald, I adjure you as a man of honor and a gentleman to release her from her promise; urged Dr. Goodwin. ' I must decline to do so, reverend sir,' smilingly replied Fitzgerald. ' Guardian, I do not wish to be released from my promise,' added Gertrude, loyally.

' Oh, foolish, foolish, child! I would that your grandfather had not made such an unwise will leaving you to your own devices.'

4 Oh, how I thank aud bless the memory of my dear grandfather that he left me to free to givo my heart to lvbom I chose!' murmured Gertrude.

' Free to break it upon a rock, you mean, poor child ! 1 sighed the doctor. ' Reverend sir, but twenty minutes of the hour in which Gertrude promised to marry me is left,' sug-g-ested Fitzgerald. 'Do you persist in throwing yourself away upon this unresponsive man, poor child ?' enquired the ministor.

' I persist iv giving myself to him because he wills to have me,' answered Gertrude, in a low but earnest tone.

' Suppose I should refuse to porfonn tho marriage ceremony between you, what should you do then »'

Gertrude lifted her large, dark eyes to Fitzgerald's face, and then replied to her guardian: ' I would go with him wherever he should wish to take me, to bo married.'

' I should take her to Wildeville and marry her there,' added Fitzgerald.

' Heaven help her, then ! All well! since I havo no power to prevent this marriage, I must at least take precautions to have it legally performed. Gerald Fitzgerald, Gertrude Haddon follow me to the church. You two young ladies also come with us. You will be wanted as witnesses,' said tho rector, leading the way iuto the parlor, closely attended by the bridal pair.

' May Faire '.' exclaimed Patricia Fitzgerald, rubbing her eyes in a state of utter bewilderment—' May Faire ! are you sleeping with me ? Pinch me hard—hard as ever you can ! I was never so sound asleep in my life, aud never dreamed such a divil of a dream ! I am dreaming that littlo Gertrude Haddon, poor lamb ! is going off to be married to Gerry Fitzgerald ! I know it is a dream, of course. But, oh !do wake me up ! Pinch me hard—hard as ever you can ! Stick a pin into mo—stick it up to tiic head ! Wake me up at any price before I dream that they are really married '.'

' You are not asleep or dreaming Patricia,' answered tho sober-minded, matter-of-fact little fairy. 'You are wide awake, and this strange thing is really going to happen, though I cuu scarcely believe it myself. Come, Patricia. Dr. Goodwin will be waiting for us.

' All wrong ! I'm dreaming I'm coming, since I can't wake up!' answered Pat, drawing tho arm of the golden-haired fairy in her own ; and walking out of the parlor, thoy made their way to tho church. Tho two girls passing up the middle aisle, noticed this group of four persons at the altar.

Within the chancel stood the rector, iv his whito surplice. Before him stood Gerald Fitzgerald and Gertrude Haddon ; behind them, leaning on his ivory-headed cane, was old Luke Marey, tho gray-haired sexton.

The rector seeing tlio entrance of the two young girls, beckoned them to approach. They hurried on aud joined the group at tho altar, Patricia placing hereelf on the left of Gertrude, and May on tho left of Patriciu.

Then the ceremony commenced, the rector rending from his prayer-book. The reading went on slowly and steadily on (lupin! of the minister, and wa.s listened to with attention and reverence until the reader came to these graye wonts : 'If any man know just cause why they rauy not lawfully bo joined together, let him now speak—'

Hero the minister made the usual pause, v more matter of form, since not once in a million of cases dues any one ' speak' to forbid the marriage. But just as the voice of the reader ceased, tho opeu doorway of the church was darkened by the entrance of a huge negro man, who entered reverently, eumo up tho aisle aud stood hear tho bridal party, respectfully waiting and holding his hat in one hand and a sealed letter in' the othor.

'It' is Goliah", ' frdmg|,Greenwood,'

whispered Patricia to May F'aire. 'My dream is getting worse and worse. I shall cry out presently.' The minister regarded the intruder iv silent uneasiness, and ho paused longer than usual, as iv expectation of hearing something from this messenger, whom he dared not interrupt the solemn ritual to question.

' Reverend sir, will you he good enough to go on with the ceremony ?' said Colonel Fitzgerald, in a low voice.

The minister sighed, cast his eyes down upon his book, and resumed his reading in theso words of awful adjuration : ' I require and charge you both, as ye will answer at the dreadful day of judgment, when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, that if either of you know any impediment why ye may not be lawfully joined together, ye do now confess it; for be yo well assured that if any persons are joined together otherwise than as God's Word doth allow, these marriage is not —AWFUL.'

Dr. Goodwin pronounced these last words with the most solemn and sorrowful emphasis.

But they found no echo in the hearts oi those to whom they were addressed.

Gerald Fitzgerald, with all tho wilfulness of his reckless mood, was taking to himself this young bride, and she with all the deep religious fervor of her nature, with the joyful assent of her whole being, was giving herself awuy to her husband. Tho minister suppressed a groan and continued the ceremony. When ho asked the momentous question: ' Gerald, wilt thou take this woman to bo thy wedded wife ?' etc., the bridegroom's response came forth, low, stern, emphatic— more expressive of determination than of affection:

' I WILL.' When the like question was put to the bride:

4 Gertrude, wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded husband ?' and so on, no one, perhaps, except the bridegroom and tho minister, heard her voice ; but, oh, what a depth of devotion, what a completeness of self-surrender, breathed in her low-toned response:

'I will.' 4 Who giveth this woman to bo married to this man ?' read the minister.

| Me!' squeaked the little, old, grayhaired sexton, who had evidently heen impressed and brought hither for this very duty. Ho set his cane up against a pew, pushed forward to tho front, took tho hand of tho bride, placed it in that of the briderooin, and baoked out again. 4My dream is growing more horrible and grotesque every instant,' whispered Patricia to hercompanion. 'Ihavojustdreamt that we came through the churchyard to the wedding, and now I am dreaming that tho sexton is giving tho bride away, and I shall dream of taking off her glove so that Gerry -"itz may place the wedding ring upou her finger. There ! I told you so !' This hist cxcalatnation was caused by a sign from the minister, in obedience, to which Patricia, as brides-maid, drew off the littlo lavender kid glove of the bride.

And then the ring was placed upon the bride's finger by the bridegroom, who, holding it there, repeated after tho minister the final and most sacred marriage vow that bound Gerald and Gertrude together in a union that could only be broken by death or by crime.

The last prayer was aaid, tho last benediction was given, the last awful adjuration pronounced:

' Thosb whom God hath joined tooethee let not majf to abtotdee.'

Gerald Fitzgerald stooped to salute his bride, and met her meek brown eyes upturned to his face, with tho beaming look of a child who ha.%.just done something to please one whom ne profoundly loves and roverences; her eyes full now of a radiance, the radiance of an angel's pure delight.

4 What a mere haby sho is,' he said to himself; ' so plaised at tho novelty and importance of being married. Well, poor little one, I must try to mak« you so content that you may never repent this reckles 4 leap in the dark,'' ho added, with a sigh, as he gave her the formal kiss that custom demanded.

But three friends who had witnessed the marriage were now pressing forward to offer congratulations. ' Colonel Fitzgerald, you have ' married in haste.' Still, it rests with yourself alone to decide whether you will ever have cause to 'repont at leisure.' In this dear, trusting girl, whether you know it or not, you have secured a treasure. I wish you both all tho happiness that I know she so will deserves,' said Dr Goodwin, as ho shook hands with the newly-wedded pair. ' Thank you, reverend sir, hi she name of Mrs Fitzgerald and myself,' replied the bridgeroom, with a blow.

' Gertrude, old chap,' said Patricia, coming slowly forward and rubbing her eyes—' lam quite conscious that this is all a'dream, but I can't help it ' I havo been dreaming tho most grotesque things about you—dreaming that we walked through a church-yard to see you married to Gerry Fitz, my warlike cousin, Gerry Fitz, and that tho old sexton gave you away! Whew! what a ' gwobious' dream ! And now I am dreaming that I am wishing you joy .' Well, sleeping or waking, old fellow. I do wish you joy with all my heart!' added Pat, giving the bride v rousing salute.

' Colonel aud Mrs Fitzgerald, I wish you both much happiness and prosperity,' said the formal little blonde beauty, May Fair, offering first her hand to tho bridgeroom and then her lips to the bride, who both responded in kind. 4 And now, sir and madam, I hope you will not disdain an old man's wishes seeing he was had up hero to take part in these solemnities,' said tho old sexton, coming forwaad with a deep bow.

' Many thanks, Marey, from Mrs Fitzgerald and myself for your kind wishes and valuable services. Will you do us tho honor to receive this trifle in acknowledgement of them?' said Colonel Fitzgerald, as he slipped a small roll of notes into the sexton s hands.

Tho old man bowed profoundly and backed out again. 1 WeJ will now adjourn to the vestry, and register our names,' said the rector.

'Beg pardon, marse minister,' said the dark intruder, who, for the last few minutes, had been utterly forgotten; ' I beg a t'ousand pardons ; but hero I has been astandin' wid dis letter hi my hand a«' waitin' for de c-hanee to 'liver it to its right owner, which, now if you please, marstor, I would like for to do it.'

' Woll! deliver it, then ! Who is the right owner'r' demanded Dr Goodwin.

'Marse Colonel Geral' FitzgerT, sar, which I dunuo, nndder, as it's any use to 'liver ob it now, sar.'

' If the letter is for me, it can wait my leisure,' said Gerald Fitzgerald, grimly. ' Come, revereud sir, if you please, we will go immediately into the vestry and complete this business by registering this marriage. We eau attend to your dark friend afterwards,' he added, as he drew the arm of his bride through his own and led the way to tho vestry, followed by the rector, the sexton, the two witnesses, and last of all by the negro messenger. The great volume of the parish register was opened, and the names of tho bridegroom, bride, rector, aud witneess, with tho residences of each, and tho day of the mouth and year, were duly signed and recorded.

CHAPTER XXXVIII. rmiuxi.ink's ait-uai,. "When the party tuni-'d to leave tho vestry they wer. confronted at the door hy the liluck giant, Goliiih, from Greenwood,' who still persistently, V ei depreeatingly. held up tho letter he brought, 'Ah, yes, I will look at that now,' said Gerald Fitzgerald, placing Gertrude iv a chair, and then taking; the letter from the messenger's hand. The other individuals of the party seated themselves, while Colonel Fitzgerald, after asking permission, opened and read tho letter. It was without date or signature, but it was from Greenwood, of course, and it was written by Geraldine, wildly passionately, almost mcohorontly :

'Oh, Garald, mv own, come back to me, for the loyoof HJavVn: I never meant to

drive you from me. I never meant to speak tho wild, false, wicked, fatal words that so ■ outraged your manhood. It was not I, Gerald, but some devil that had temporary possession of me. Oh, you know that I could never have spoken to you so—never havo driven you away from me on tho eve of our wedding-day, for, oh, I love you! I love you ! I love you, Gerald ! And you know it. I have loved you ever since I was a child of five years old, and you a youth of glorious beauty, my childish.deal of all that was divine in the image of the Creator— when your father told me that you were to be my husband, and you put the first little betrothal ring upon my finger and called me your own. 'It was then that you took mo 'for better, for worse,' and in all my life I never even dreamed of such a thing as inconstancy to you. For me there lived but one man on the face of the earth—he was my betrothed husband, my king aud my lord. ' But, giving you my whole heart, I exacted as much. As for me, no other man lives; so for you it fills me with madness to th nk that any other woman should exist.

' Oh! why did you sit beside Horatia Rowley so long yesterday evening, quotiug Byron's poetry to her, allowing her to look into your eyes as she did, to speak to you in the tone sho did, driving me mad with jealousy, opening my spirit to the influx of all tho hells?

' I have tho Fitegeralds' temper—oh ! let me rather say, I have the Fitzgeralds' familiar devil! —and when I grow jealous, that devil takes full possession of me. I am no longer in myself. It is not I who utter wild, false, wicked, fatal words. It is not I who drive you with insults from my preseuce—not I, oh Gerald ' but the devil that has obtained transient possession of me; for when he has left me I could rend my hair and rend my clothes in utter selfabhorrence and despair for all that ho has made me say and do; for I love you, Gerald —I love you—and you know it! And you love me, and I know it! You may harden your heart against me, you my fly from me to the uttermost parts of tho earth, but you will carry with you tho assurance that we love each other utterly—that we shall lovo each other as long as we both shall live.

' But if you leave me, Gerald, I feel that I shall not live !Oh i come baok.' come back to me, Gerald, and let us be happy in each othor again! I would promise—oh ! I would gladly vow—never to givo way to such jealous"fury again, but terrible experienoohas taught me that such promises would bo vain; such vows would be broken. I might as well promise never to havo an ague agiiin us never to have an outbreak of temper. I caunot help one more than I can help the other.

1 But oh ! Gerald, you made nic a promise which you can keep, if you will. It was on the day of your dear lather's funeral, after we had returned from laying his remains in tho vault, when we were reconciled to each other, and I pleaded with you, and you promised me always to bear with my unhappy temper, since you knew that I loved you through all. This was your promise to me, Gerald, and it gave me peace; for I said to myself, here is a 3pirit stronger and calmer than my own who will never take me at my own wild words, but will let theso paroxysms of passion pass as a storm passes, without harm to any but to her who must always suffer from shame and remorse when they are over.

'Oh ! keep your promise to me, Gerald Fitzgerald ! "Keep your promise to me, even though, in my jealous fury, I absolved you from it, and drove you from my presence. It was not I who did it, for I love you, Gerald; it was the devil who controlled mo then.

' Oh, Gerald ! that devil has left me now. Let him not enter you.' I thought I saw that devil in your eye for the first time when you left me last night with these fatal words:

' You havo driven me away once too often. Good-by—forever.' 'Butthis cannot, must not ho so ; oh, Gerald, nothing: but the demon could inspiro you with the thought of a final, enternal parting with me! Ob, Gerald, do not let that demon get possession of you, for if he should obtain control over your strong organization, he will goad you to such deeds of desperation, of fatality, compared to which my acts, bad as they are, will seem but child's play. Come back to me, Gerald; Coin© back to me, or I die ! I cannot say that I will nover he jealous of you again. My love is a moss-rose full of thorns ; but I will lovo you, and love you, and lovo you, to all eternity 1'

As Gerald Fitzgerald read this reckless, impetuous, impassionedoutpouringof Gevaline's stormy soul, his face grew pale and paler until it faded to the hue of ashes; his frame shook and roeledi until ho leaned his elbow upon the mantel-piece near which he stood. As he continued to read, his form dropped more and more, his heud bowed lower and lower over the paper ho held in his shaking hand. Meanwhile the messenger and tho sexton guzed stolidly on. They felt no very particular interest in tho letter.

Dr. Goodwin aud the two girls watched the reader furtively, anxiously. They knew well that tin- missive which was wringing Ids heart came from Geraldino aud invited him to return to his allegiance. They only pitied Gertrude, and wondered what Gerald would do.

And the poor, unloved bride! Gertrude, sitting near him, saw Fitzgerald's emotion, and kuew that all this distress was caused by the letter ho was reading, aud that the letter must be a peaceoll'ering from Geraldine, coino toolate! With true delicacy she turned her head away. She would not watch him iv his present mood. Had she done right iv giving herself to him ? AVould her gift really bring him peace and happiness ? She dared not dwell upon that question now. She had become his wife iv compliance with his will— that will which was now and henceforth her law. Was she sorry for what she had done ? No, no ! and a thousand time no ! for she loved without self-love and such love never looks back with regret upon its

oflerings. Nevertheless, as sho turned her eyes away from watching Fitzgerald's troubled countenance, all the iunoceut delight died out of her sweet face, and left it meek and pensive as of old. . . Fitzgerald finished his letter, and laid it down on the mantel-shelf beside him. Ho remained leaning on his elbow, lost in thought, for a few minutes, and then, with an effort, aroused.himself, and said: 'This letter requires au answer, Dr. Goodwin. I thiuk you keep stationery here. Would you kindly allow me to write a few lines at your tablo ?' ' Certainly, Colonel,' replied the rector, as he drew out a drawer from the side ot the table, took pen, ink and paper from it, aud laid them upon tho top. Fitzgerald excused himself on the plea of necessity, drew a chair to tlio tabic, sat down, and wrote :

Old Red Sanustonk Cnuitcii, ) Tuesday afternoon. . My Deab Cousin Gkuahdin- : 1 have just received your letter. I cannot I'omo to you, as you request me ; nor can I behove, even if I had the power to obey your call, that it would be wise or woll to do so. Experience has demonstrated that, strong as our attachment to each other has hitherto been, we cannot live in harmony together. No houso would bo large enough to contain you, your familiar demon, and myself. I have known this for somo time; yet, again and again, when I have witnessed thu power of that demon ' jealousy ' over you, I have allowed sober judgment to be conquered by passion, aud have returned to you. And now, to place it forever beyond the power of passion so to overwhelm judgment as to ruin both your life and mine, 1 have this hour raised an impassable between us. I havo just united myself in marriage to Gertrude Haddon, to whom, Heaven helpin"- me, I hope to make a faithful husband. I shall show this letter, aud all future letters that may pass between you and me, to mv young wifo ; but I hope that few or uone'may be written ; your own good sense will advise you, that under theso circumstances;, all intercourse, whether personal or epistolary, should cease between us. And now, wishiag you all the happiness your temperament will permit you. to receive, I remain, your affectionate coupon, G_i_ld Fn__i;iuxi>.

He finished his letter, looked up for a moment, as if he would have called his child-bride to him, and then recollecting himself, and the respect duo to her, he took up the letter, arose, and went to her side. She raised her head, and then ho saw that all the light of gladness had died out of her pale, patient little face, and he knew the cause.

He placed the letter in her hand, saying, gently, in a low tone : ' Before I send this letter off I wish you to read it, Gertrude. Thero must he no secrets between us, my child.'

She looked gratefully up to his face — that face which was the sun of light and life to her, and then she dropped her eyes to the paper and read his farewell words to Geraldine. When she had finished reading she returned the letter to his hands and sighed. '"'I will try to make you happy, sweet girl,' he whispered in response to her sigh. ' Oh, that I could only make you so,' she breathed, her whole soul's devotion in her tone.

' You will be sure to do so, my little dove,' he answered, as lie returned to the table and placed Geraldiue's letter and his own in one envelope and sealed and supercribed it to Miss Fitzgerald. 'Take this to your young mistress at Greenwood, and take this in consideration of your long ride,' said Colonel Fitzgerald, as he placed the letter and a small sum of money in the hands of the gigantic messonger. ' Tbanky,' Marse Colonel, thauky' werry much indeed, sar; which I has had sich a wild-eoose chase arter you, sar, as never was. ~Fus' fing, airly dis mornin,' Miss Gerline had me rousted out'n bed and font off 'dout my breakfas' to carry dat letter to you, sar, at de Summit, which I 'rived dere 'bout ten o'clock, and was tole how yer honor had done rid pos' has'c to Wildeville. And I starve near to deaf arter my long ride witdout my breakfas,' aud didn't eben dare to stop to get any defreshments from Aunt Hetty, 'cause Miss Gerline had give me strict orders not to stop nowhere till I had 'livered of do letter into your honor's own hands. And den when I got to Wildevillo it was 'bout leben o'clock, and dere doy tole me how you had gone to do Ole Red Sandstone Church, and had left orders at de Wildevillo Hotel for de coach to folly you on here immediate. And I jes' snatch a loaf of bread from de shop, and hey a fipponny hit to pay for it, and oome on here as hard as I could to fetch de letter, which, much it misgives me, come too late; hut it was no fau't o' mine, Marse Colonel,' concluded the giant. ' Tlio letter came in very good time, I arauro you. But you spoke of tho carriage I ordered. Has it come, do you know ':' 1 Yes, Marse Colonel; it got hero mos' soon us I did. Fact is, it lef Wildewille 'fore I did. It's at de door.'

4 Very well then. You had better return at once to Greenwood with my answer to your mistress's letter,' said Colonel Fitzgerald. Tho giant bowed himself out. When he had gone, Gerald Fitzgerald turned to his bride, saying: ' Come, Gertrude, bid your friends goodby. We must try to catch the five o'clock stage-coach from Wildevillo.' ' Will you take her away immediately V

enquired Dr. Goodwin. ' Immediately. That is the law of etiquette, I believe, at weddings, when there are no cards and no reception,' said Colonel Fitzgerald. ' And no breakfast, and no bride's cake, and no trousseau, and no presents, and no love, and no nothing !' added Patricia Fitzgerald, in a whisper to May Faire. ' You will please to have Mrs Fitzgerald's effects forwarded to Fuller's Hotel, Washington city, reverend sir,* said Colonel Fitzgerald. ' You will remain in Washington city for some little timer' enquired Dr. Goodwin. * I hardly know. Much will depend upon my little lady's wishes, and she has not had time to form any yet. We may go abroad. We will write and let you know sir.' ' Oh, Fitzgerald '. bo good to my child !' exclaimed tho rector. ' I shall be loyal to my wife,' answered the bridegroom, earnestly. ' Yes, lam sure you will. Heaven bless you, my dear Gertrude, and make your married life as happy as it deserves to be !' exclaimed Dr. Goodwin, as ho laid his hands in benediction upon the young brido's j head. i She pressed those venerable hands to her heart, and silently bado \ li2r old friend adieu. She kissed" Patricia and May, and then turned to her husband, who hud already bidden farewell to the party. Colonel Fitzgerald drew her arm within his own, and led her out to the carriage which was waiting at the church door. Tlio minister, the two girls, and the sexton walked out to see them off.

Gerald Fitzgerald put her into the carriage, entered and placed herself by her side, and gave the signal to the coachman, who immediately started his horses and drove away. * She lias gone to sea in a sieve, sho haß ! In a sieve sho has gone to sen -, In spite of all her friends eouM say. On a stormy mom of a winter's day. Sho has gone to sea in a siove.' sang Pat, Fitzgerald, gazing after the carriage. 'Oh, yes, I know,' sho added ; ' you will tell me that this a golden afternoon in glorious autumn, and that she has gone to the city in a coach. But ' she has gone to sea in a sieve,' for all that.'

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