THE TEX4.N HUNTEBSS. 333 



witti an affectionate familiarity, and seemed to thint of 

 resuming his labors where he left them off. Her eyes brimmed 

 and glistened as she watched him, and when he took up his 

 magnifying glass she leaned forward, suddenly, and asked, 

 with an eager and hopeful expression : — 



"William, is the light good?" 



He nodded his head pleasantly, but spoke no word ; sbe 

 turned pale at this, and said, in an agonized voice, while with 

 blue and parted lips she hung upon his answer: — 



"William, why do you not speak?" 



He made an inarticulate movement of the lips, raised his 

 finger to them, and shook his head sadly. She clasped her 

 bands and staggered backwards, but I caught her. For one 

 minute she was motionless, except a slow shivering of the 

 body ; and with rigid features and lips compressed, leaned 

 against me, with such an expression of hopeless abandon, that 

 I could not help the tears springing to my eyes. She soon 

 recovered her self-possession, and raising herself erect, she 

 coldly remarked : — 



" He can at least talk for humanity in deeds ; his eyes have 

 language enough for us to converse." 



From this time she seemed to me as one stricken; she 

 moved about in tearless silence, — never speaking to me, 

 except when compelled, and then only in monosyllables. 



She never attempted to speak to him again, except by looks 

 or signs, of which they had in a few days established a simple 

 but sufficiently significant system. I never heard this woman 

 complain once of her wound, though it was clearly a severe 

 one, and she must have sufi'ered greatly. She went calmly 

 on as usual, watching every want of her husband, and even 

 anticipating many. He had recovered sufficiently now to be 

 able to resume his labor, and she kept near him all the time, 

 seeming to understand perfectly the effect of every new 

 combination attempted, and the purpose which was to be 

 attained. 



