Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

THE By J. A. TURNER. £ COUNTRYMAN, -“INDEPENDENT IN EVERYTHING—-NEUTRAL IN NOTHING ”- $5 for Four Months. [X. TURN WOLD (NEAR EATONTON) GA., TUESDAY, MAY 10, 18G4. VOL. X The Widow. PART I. “ In tlie winter of 1S33, 1 was hur riedly, and, as I at the time could not help thinking, precipitately despatch ed to Guernsey, one of the hugest of the islands which dot the British Chan nel, in quest of a gentleman of, till then, high character on the Stock Ex change, who, it was alleged, had ab sconded with a very huge sum of mo ney intiusted to him for investment by a baronet of considerable influence in official quarters. From certain ciicum- stances, it was surmised that Guern sey would be his first hiding-place, and I was obliged to post all the way to Weymouth in order to save the mail packet, which left that place on the Saturday evening, or night, rather, with the Channel-Island mails* Mr. • had gone, it was conjectured, by way of Southampton. My search, promptly and zealously as I was aid ed by the Guernsey authorities, prov ing vaiu, I determined on going on to Jersey, when a letter arrived by post; informing me that the person of whom I was in pursuit had either not intend ed to defraud his client, or that his heart had failed him at the threshold of crime. A few hours after I had left London he had re-appeared, it seems, in his counting-house, after hav ing a few minutes previously effected the investment of the money in ac cordance with bis client’s iiistnictibns, and was now, through his attorney, threatening the accuser, and all" his aiders and abettors, with the agree able processes that, in England, usual ly follow sharply at the heels of such rash and hasty proceedings. My mission over, 1 proposed to re trace my steps immediately, hut, un fortunately, lound myself detained in the island for nearly a week, by the hurricane-weather which suddenly set in, rendering it impossible for the mail or steam-packets to cross the Chan* uel during its continuance. Time limped slowly and heavily away, and frequently, in my impatieucp to be gone, I walked down to the bleak pier, and strained my eyes in the direction in which the steamer from Jersey should appear. Almost every time I did so I encountered two persons, who, I could see, were even more impatient to be gone than myself, and probably, J thought, with much more reason. They were a widow lady, not certain- j ly moro than thirty years of age, and ' her son, a fine, curly-haired boy, about eight or nine years old, whose natural light-heat tednessappeared to be check ed, subdued, by the deep grief' and sadness which trembled in his mo tree’s fine, expressive eyes, and shrouded her pale but handsome,f ive. lie lit Id her by ihe. band, often clasping it with both ids tiny ones, and looking up ti ller as she turned desponJingiy away from the vacant roadstead and raging waters, with a half-frightened, half- wondering expression of anxious love, which would frequently cause his mother to tend down, and hurriedly strive to kiss away the sorrowful alarm depicted in the child’s face. These two beings strangely interested me; chiefly, perhaps, because in my com - polled idleness I bad little else, ex cept the obstinate find angry weather, to engage my attention, or occupy my thoughts. There was an unmistak able air of ‘better days’ about the vvi iuw—a grace of manner which her somewhat faded and unseasonable rai ment rendered but the more sinking and apparent. Her countenance, one perceived at. the first glance, was of remarkable comeliness; and upon one occasion that I had an opportunity of observing u, 1 was satisfied that, un der happier influences than now ap peared to overshadow her, those pale, interesting features would light up into beauty as brilliant as it was refined and intellectual. This introduces another walking mystery, which, for want of something better to do, I was conjuring out of my fellow-watchers on the pier. He Avas a stoutish, strongly-set man of forty years of age, perhaps scarcely so much, showily dressed in new, glos sy clothes; French-varnished boots, thin-soled enough, winter as it was, for a diawiug room ; hat of the latest gent fashion ; a variegated satin cra vat, fastened by two enormous-headed gold pins, connected with a chain ; and a heavy gold chain fastened from his Avatch waistcoat pocket over his neck. The complexion of his.face was a cadaverous white, liberally sprinkled and reUevod with gin and brandy blossoms, whilst the coarse ness of his not overly clean hands Avas, with singular taste, set off and display ed by some half dozen glittering rings. I felt a growing conviction, especially on noticing a sudden change in the usual cunning, impudent, leering ex pression of his eyes, as he caught me looking at him with some earnestness, that 1 had somewhere had the honor of a"previous introduction to to him. That he had n£t Been, lately at all events, used to such resplendent habil iments as lie noAV sported, was abun dantly evident from his numerous smirking self-surveys as he. strutted jauntily along, and frequently stop ping before.sho. s that, having mirrors in their windows, afforded a more com plete view of Ins charming person. This creature, I was convinced, was in some way connected, or at any rate acquainted, with the young and grace ful widow. He was constantly dogg ing her steps ; and I noticed with sur prise, and some little .irritation, that his vulgar bow was faintly returned bv tlie lady as they passed each other; and that her recognition of him, slight and distant as it was, was not unfre- quently accompanied with a blush, whether arising from a pleasurable emotion, or the reverse, 1 could not, for some time, determine. There is a mystery about blushes, I was, and am quite aware, not easy penetrable, more especially about those of widows. I was soon enlightened upon that point, One day, when she happened to be standing alone on the pier—her little boy was gazing through a telescope I had borrowed of the landlord of tho hotel where I lodged—he approached, and before she was well aware of his intention, took her hand, uttering at the same time, it seemed, some words of compliment. It was then I ob served her features literally flash with a vividness of expression which reveal ed a beauty I had not before imagined she possessed. The fellow absolute ly recoiled before the concentrated scorn which flushed her pale features, and the indignant gesture with which she withdrew her hand from the con tamination of his touch. As be turn ed confusedly and hastily away, his eyes encountered mine, and he mut tered some unintelligible sentences, during which the widow and her son left the spot. ‘The lady,’ said I, as soon as she was out of hearing, ‘seems iu a cold, bitter humor this morning} not unlike the weather.’ ‘Yes, Mr. Wat I beg pardon, Mr. What’s-your-name, I ayouIq say T ‘Waters, as I perceive you know quite well. My recollection of you is not so distinct. I have no remem brance of the fashionable clothes and