The Trials of the Soldier's Wife: A Tale of the Second American RevolutionAbrams, Alex. St. Clair (Alexander St. Clair)
History
The Trials of the Soldier's Wife: A Tale of the Second American Revolution
Abrams, Alex. St. Clair (Alexander St. Clair)
Confederate States of America -- Fiction; United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction
"Shall have a home so long as I live and his father is serving his
country," interrupted Dr. Humphries. "Rest easy on that subject,
madam," he continued, "it will be a pleasure for me to take care of
the boy."
"Then I die happy," said Mrs. Wentworth, and turning to her husband
she said with difficulty, "Farewell, my husband. Amid all my trials
and sufferings my love for you has ever been as true and pure as the
hour we married. To die in your arms, with my head on your bosom was
all I wished, and my desire is gratified. Farewell."
Before her husband could reply her reason had vanished, and she
remained oblivious to all around her. Her eyes were closed, and the
moving of her lips alone told that she yet lived.
"Eva! darling! Wife!" exclaimed Alfred passionately "Speak to me! oh
my angel wife, speak one word to me ere you die. Look at me! say that
you recognize me. Awake to consciousness, and let me hear the sound of
your voice once more. Wake up my wife" he continued wildly, "Oh for
another word--one look before you are no more."
His wild and passionate words reached the ear of the dying woman, and
her voice came again, but it was the dying flicker of the expiring
lamp. She slowly opened her eyes and looked up in the face of her
husband.
"Alfred--husband, happiness" she murmured softly, then gently drawing
down his head, her lips touched his for an instant, and the soldier's
wife embraced her husband for the last time on earth.
Releasing his head Mrs. Wentworth kept her eyes fixed upon those of
her husband. Their glances met and told their tale of deep and
unutterable affection. The look they gave each other pierced their
souls, and lit up each heart with the fires of love. Thus they
continued for several minutes, when Mrs. Wentworth, rising on her
elbow, looked for a moment on the grief struck group around her bed.
"Farewell," she murmured, and then gazing at her husband, her lips
moved, but her words could not be heard.
Stooping his ear to her lips, Alfred caught their import, and the
tears coursed down his cheek.
The words were, "My husband I die happy in your arms."
As if an Almighty power had occasioned the metamorphosis, the
countenance of the dying woman rapidly changed, and her features bore
the same appearance they had in years gone by. A smile lingered round
her lips, and over her face was a beautiful and saint-like expression.
The husband gazed upon it, and her resemblance to what she was in days
of yore, flashed across his mind with the rapidity of lightning. But
the change did not last long, for soon she closed her eyes and
loosened her grasp on her husband's neck, while her features resumed
their wan and cheerless expression. Nothing but the smile remained,
and that looked heavenly. Alfred still supported her; he thought she
was asleep.
"She is now in heaven," said Doctor Humphries solemnly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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