Chapter 10
"The lamps had not been lighted in that portion of the house, and it was quite dark. The atmosphere was stifling, as all the windows had been closed at the approach of the storm. I raised them, and the cool, damp air, heavy with the odor of jessamine, floated into the room. Elizabeth, evidently greatly fatigued by the day's exertions, had thrown herself upon a lounge at the foot of the bed. She was in her dressing-gown, and her face was framed in masses of wavy brown hair which had become uncoiled in her restless movements. I hesitated to awaken her, but as sounds from below indicated the near approach of dinner I called her--at first softly, and then in louder tones, an indefinable fear stealing over me as I did so. I approached the couch, and tremblingly placed my hand upon her forehead.... Ah, God, I cannot tell the rest!
"Seven years have dragged their weary length along since I lost my dear young wife and the light of my life was extinguished forever! Now, all is darkness! darkness!
"Subsequent investigation, supported by the testimony of well-known and thoroughly reliable residents of the country, confirmed in every particular the truth of Uncle Ashby's story. A visit to the marshman's cottage some days after my wife's death revealed a ruinous mouldering habitation, in the midst of a wilderness of weeds and vines. A mournful, desolate spot, shunned and avoided by all for the past twenty years, and yet had I not seen----" Tippett paused abruptly, with bowed head and eyes tear-dimmed.
"Here, old chap, take this," said Colonel Manysnifters, hastily pouring out and handing him a stiff drink. Tippett, obeying, was somewhat revived, and continued.
"I returned to Brooklyn with the body of my wife. My mother followed her to the grave a few months later. All in the world that was dear to me was now lost. I took to drink; I sunk lower and lower, dissipated my little fortune, friends forsook me; and by quick stages in the descending scale I found myself, as I said before--an outcast! Yet, through all my troubles I have never entertained the thought of self-destruction. I have no desire whatever to seek--
"'The undiscover'd country, from whose bourn No traveler returns,--puzzles the will, And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than to fly to others we know not of.'"
It was long after midnight when Tippett concluded his story and the gathering broke up; not, however, before sleeping-quarters had been found for the unfortunate man, and a promise given by Senator Bull to put him on his feet again in the far West--an offer gladly accepted in all sincerity, and a venture which proved highly successful, as most of the long-headed Senator's usually did.
Morning brought relief, the track was cleared, and our train proceeded on its way, arriving at Washington many hours behind schedule; its occupants but little the worse for their experience--Colonel Manysnifters, I believe, with a slight headache.
End of Project Gutenberg's The Statesmen Snowbound, by Robert Fitzgerald