The White Waywode (Classic Reprint)

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Excerpt from The White Waywode Gazing upon this little mound of earth which hides thee from me, I scarce can realize that thou art beneath it, and that I never shall see your face again upon this sphere. With a bitter heart I came here, vowing vengance against the inhuman wretch who so cruelly robbed thee of life, and hoping that I might find some clue by which I could fasten his terrible crime upon him and avenge thy most untimely death, but everything seemed so peaceful and quiet - no sound save the moaning of the trees, and the ripple of the waters of yonder silver stream, that all thoughts of vengeance stole from me, like shadows cast from the mountains before the rising sun. Ye emblematic trees! so closely locked in a loving embrace, minding me of the tie more strong, which knit our hearts together, shelter him well, for I must now leave him to your gentle care. Farewell! Farewell! Oh, farewell. (Moves slowly towards L. A crackling sound heard.) What was that? Some animal perhaps searching for prey. Where can I conceal myself? Ah - those trees. They are easily climbed, and among their heavy foliage I may remain unnoticed. (Enters Stantley L. scrutinizing ground closely.) Stantley. (Walks over to cross and halts before it.) Whats this? "E. T., murdered, 1849." Only a grave - and how many there are between here and the Missouri. Fools that thought they could enrich themselves without toil, and their bones are bleaching beneath the burning sun. (Searching again.) Where can that knife be? - somebody must have picked it up shortly after we had the quarrel which ended so fatally to him. What a fool I was to drop it. If it was discovered that it belonged to me, they would make it hot for me. Fortunately they thought I had crossed the mountains. Curse him! if he had kept away from that girl of Foster's he might be living yet, but it would be safer to cross the cobra's path than step between me and my affairs. The White Waywode is an adder, and his sting is death! Lie there and rot! She has been out here and strewed flowers over your grave - oh, I heard about it - and much good it must have done her and you to water your grave with her tears. About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully, any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.