Newspaper Page Text
FOURTH PAGE
THE SUNNY SOUTH.
SEPTEMBER t, 1906.
i A Matter of Dignity I
By MAY WYNNE.
T was actually a fine day!
I say ’actually,” as It was
the first day of threa
weeks at Dartmoor In
which it had not poured.
My spirits, which had
found, to my dismay, that I could not
extricate myself.
“Oh, oh!" I cried, and looked around.
There stood Jack, close behind me, and
how truly glad 1 was to see him there.
“Jack!” 1 cried, piteously. "Oh, Jack,
I'm sinking. Do help me out. I—I am
so frightened!”
Even in that moment of horror I was
been at *ero, went up glad to notice not so much as a flicker*
with a bound; certainly! Q r
it was a day to be hailed
with joy. My boots and
a cap comprising the ex
tent of my outdoor toilet.
On % small taible were pen and ink
and a curious much-worn (portfolio.
“He always gets the mall first, doesn’t
he?” asked Larry.
"Yes, I believe he does.”
“i thought so; and I’ll swear he never
got a letter from Vermont in his life.”
When we went down Bates was limp
ing about the library, endeavoring to
restore order.
“Bates,” 1 said to him, “you are a
very curious person. I have had a thou
sand and one opinions about you since I
came here, and I still don’t make you
out.”
He turned from the shelves, a defaced
>r a smile on his face. If he had , J» hl8 •“»**•
aughed I would never have forgiven es * r ' 1 was
laughed I would never have forgl
him, for although, I confess. I must
have locked supremely ridiculous stand
ing there, I wanted any onlooker to bo
I was not'long in making , blin ^ of the fact * Stepping on a small
bowlder of rock which stood near. Jack
it, and with a hasty kiss
to mother, who called after me a string
of cautions about losing myself or fall
ing Into a bog, I was off for a good
scramble, .to blow, as I said, “all the
cobwebs away.”
The fresh breeze—it was October—was
a good deul that
way with your lamented grandfather.
He always said I puzzled him.”
larry. safe behind the fellow's back,
made no attempt to conceal a smile.
‘I want to thank you. for your heroic
stretched forth his arm, and, clutching j e fr°ris to protect the house lost night.
You acted nobly, and I must confess.
Bates, that I didn't think it uvas In you.
You've got the right stuff In you; I
frantically at it, I was huuled gasping !
and shaking on to terra firma. !
“Bit down,” said Jack authoritatively.
out of the good old times! Bless me!
I never appreciated your grandfather! I
must run—I have another service. But
I hope you gentlemen will call on me,
day or night, for anything 1 can do to
help you. Please don’t forget me. I had
tine record once for putting rhe shot.”
“Why hot give our friend escort through
the tunnel .' 1 asked Barry. "I’ll not hes
itate to say that I’m dying to see it.’
"To be sure! we wen down into the
cellar, and tpoked over the lantern and
candlestick collections, and I pointed out
the exact apottfwhere Morgan and I had
indulged in our revolver duel. It was
fortunate that the plastered walls of the
cellar clearly showed the cuts and scars
Of the pistol balls or I fear my story
would have fallen on incredulous ears.
The debris I had piled upon the false
I tried vainly to think of something to
say, I left the house.
There is nothing in the world so tire
some as explanations, and I have never
in my life tried to make them without
floundering into seas of trouble.
CHAPTER XXI.
PICKERING SERVES NOTICE.
The next morning Bates placed a letter
postmarked Cincinnati at my plate. I
opened and read it aloud to Larry:
On Board the Helolse,
December 25, 1901.
John Glenarm, Esq. Glenarm house, An-
nandale, Wabana Co., Indiana.
Dear Sir—I have just learned from
what what I believe to ‘be a trustworthy
source that you have already violated
the terms of the agreement under which
soul rest in blessed peace!—to lie about j the day of restoration; and, second, that
It. They might nail me for perjury be
sides.”
"Then the Quicker we get ready for a
siege the better. As I understand your
attitude, you don’t .propose to move out
unfll you’ve found where the siller's hid
den. Being a gallant gentleman and of
northern men are. to a great extent,
lesponsible for whatever of bitterness
toward the government exists In the
south.”
A RADICAL ON JACKSON.
The following clipping appeared in The
a forgiving nature, you want to be sure 1 Savannah Republican in 1866:
And I obeyed, laughing and crying ttys- | sorry that there are black pages
terically.
“My siloes!’
in your record that I can't reconcM
lanaged at last to j with >' our manly conduct of last night.
exhilarating. I decided in tiie flrst j whisper, glancing from my mud-bespat- I w-e’ve- got to come to an under
flush of energy that I was quite equal j tcr ed sloc klngs to where two little Ox- I standing.”
to a climb up Hessery Tor, hitherto eyed
dubiously. Toward Hessery Tor. there
fore, I wended by way, and to my sur
prise encountered Jack Merevale, sitting
with a rather disconsolate expression
on a clump of heather near the foot
of it.
“Going fishing. Jack?” I inquired
oiheerfully. He was a sort-of-a-kind-of-
eousln many times removed, so it was
natural I should call hint by his Chris
tian name.
“No,” he replied, rising slowly. “Tt's
too sunny and windy for the fish to
have anything to say to me today. Per
haps you will take pity on a poor out-
of-work chap and let me come with
your’
He looked appealingly.
I laughed. “Of course you can.” I
replied. “But I don’t expect you’ll want
to. I’m going to climb the Tor.’’
Ho replied with enthusiasm that the
ascent had long been his dream and am
bition. Accordingly we started, and be
fore we were half way T realized what
foolish things amlbtlons are. and so will
you If ever you try to climb a Devon
shire Tor. At every other step you
strike bog, and I should have given up
in despair had not Jack pulled me gal
lantly on, struggling and tumbling, not
only outwardly but with Inward tem
per. However, when we reached the top
ford walking shoes stuck up aggressive
ly in the very middle of the bog. Bui
to my surprise Jack did not stir.
“I wanted to talk to you, Gwennie,"
he said gently, and 1 suddenly became
conscious tliut he still held my hands
in his own.
“Well, I don't,” I retorted rather rude
ly, for l' was seized with a wild anxiety
to jump up and run away. I was angry
with myself beeausg I felt a most unex
pected blush dyeing my cheeks an un
lovely red. J do not blush prettily, and
was, moreover, also suddenly alive to
tiie fact that my struggle in the bog
had left me woefully disheveled. I was
“Yes. sir.’’
“The most outrageous attacks have
been made on me since I came here. You
know wliat I mean w* 11 enough Mr i . ..
Glenarm never im ,, * „ 1 llose ,al1 P os, s at the gate are a scheme
Glenarm never intended that I should tw ueenw
blocik oif stone in the cellar lay as I had ; you entered Into residence on the prop-
left it, but the three of us quickly freed j ei ty near Annandale, known as Glenarm
the trap. The humor of the thing took j bouse. The provision of the will of
strong hold of my new allies, and while i John Marshall Glenarm are plain and
I was getting a lantern to light us '
through the passage, Larry sat on the
edge of the trap and howled a few bars
of a wild Irish Jig. We sat forth at
once and found the passage unchanged.
When the cold air blew in upon us I
paused.
"Have you gentlemen the slightest idea
of where you are?”
“We must be under the school grounds,
I should say.” replied Stoddard.
“We’re exactly under the stone wall.
sit down in his house and be killed or
robbed.
for keeping fresh air in the passage.
“You certainly have all the modern 1m-
T*?, Ml6 * en,,PSt I,pin « tIlat provements.” observed Larry, and I heard
‘I ’ TV ™ gr ° !nS tG " KlU for 1118 I him chuckling all the way to the crypt
memory and to protect his property | dool .
from tiie scoundreds who have plotted
■against me. I hope you follow me.”
"Yes, Mr. Glenurm.” He was regard
ing me attentively. Ills lips quavered,
perhaps from weakness, for he certainly
looked ill.
“Now I offer you your choice— either
about to rise—but alas! 1 remembered! to stand loyally by me anj my grand
father's house or to join these scoun
drels Arthur Pickering lias hired to drive
me out. I’m not going to bribe you—I
don’t offer you a cent for standing by
Pie. but I won’t have a traitor In the
house, and if you don’t like me or my
terms I rnant you to go and go now.’’
He straightened quickly—his eyes light-
my shoes with a pang.
“Please, Mr. Merevale,” I said coldly,
"will you get me my shoes? I'm—I'm in
a hurry.”
“Certainly,” lie replied coolly, “But,
if you will allow me, 1 have something
to say to you first, Miss Harrison.”
Tears of angry vexation stood in my
eyes. Of all the mean advantages that ed and the color crept Into his face.
ever man took
I had never before see him appear
“1 won't allow you,” I cried. "I don’t I like a human .being.
want to bear wliat you've got to say.
1—I want my shoes at once.”
He still held 'both my hands. I had
tried to free them but 1 could not. 1 was
furious at his mastery over me, and
trembled on tile verge of retaliation by
at last, and sat down under, a big ledge j tears—a sure method of subjugation
of rock, we could aoffnl to laugh: and, | against obdurate mankind,
sitting there, with the fresh breeze! "Are you quite sure. Gwennie?” he
blowing In my ‘face, and the glorious ! said changing his tone so suddenly, amt
sweep of moor, river and tors around I bending forward to look into- my down-
us, I felt I had accomplished something j east face with such a strange new ten-
•worth while “ | derness on his own that I was complete-
I am not a very sentimental person, j ly taken by surprise. So surprised, In-
and instead of dreaming poetic thoughts | deed, was I that I quite forgot to re-
I chattered away like a magpie on ev- | ply; the shoes were for the moment for-
ery topic that came uppermost in my i gotten likewise. I suppose Jack con-
somewhat frivolous mind. My compan- j strued my sllense as a. sign of grace;
I put down to dls- |
Ion’s abstracted
appointment about his fishing. For my
self, I never could see the pleasure of
standing for hours waving a rod over a
river and probably catching nothing bet
ter than a cold at the end of the day.
an opinion I proceeded to air to Jack
with a patronizing smile.
“•Women don't often make good fish
ers,” he replied loftily. "They haven’t
got enough patience.’’
I tossed my head indignantly. "Pa
tience! How absurd!—a woman's pa
tience Is proverbial; as for men ”
My scorn was withering. He evi
dently thought it be5T" to climb down.
“Wei,” he said, depreeat lngly, “per
haps it is that they have no idea of
sport.”
But this ruffled me still more.
"I’m very fond of sport.” T replied,
with dignity. “T love hunting,”
“I’m sorry to hear It."
“Why**
“Why? Oh. T don't know; I disap
prove of ladies in the hunting field.”
My anger was rising.
"Just like men; they're always self
ish. and want to keep all the sport to
themselves!”
“I was not viewing It, T assure you,
from a selfish standpoint.”
‘iReally! Then I fail to see your rea
son for objecting to a woman having a
little fun.”
“Far be it from me. I only said I
objected to seeing her in the hunting
field. The^e surely are lots of other op
portunities for fun.”
“None half so nice. Why do you ob
ject?**
He 'hesitated. T suppose ho saw I
was annoyed, and did. not wish to add
fuel to the flame.
“Why?” T persisted, fixing my eye9
full upon his with a Judicial stare.
’Well,” he murmured. "I’m sorry If
you ere offended, but I confess I con
sider it fast and unladylike.”
I Jumped up. my face like a peony.
“Thank you,” I said, cuttingly, and,
without attempting any farewell, walked
away, my head held high in the air.
I should have liked to look back and
see how he had taken my anger, but my
dignity refused to permit it. I won
dered if he was following and hoped he
was not. Yes! I certainly hoped he was
not, for as I began the descent of that
wretched Tor I realized that dignity was
Incompatible with bogs. T’naided by his
strong right arm, I swayed perilously
to and fro, springing from clump to
clump of heather, but nevertheless sink
ing ankle deep from time to time in
treacherous morasses. Almost In tears
I struggled on, but before T was half
way down the end came. I had leaped
from a quaking mound of peat only to
land myself right Into the middle of a
bog; already my right foot had disap
peared, the left was sinking fast. 1
at any rate, lie took every mean advan
tage of the situation, and I—well, wheth
er i liked it or not. I had to listen to
all lie had to ^ay. When he had finished
I managed to look up shyly into his
face.
“I suppose I must say ‘Yes,’ Jack,” I
whispered, “or you’ll leave me here to
perish? I—I think I’ll say ‘Yes,’ if you
promise to get me luv shoes.”
It was most absurd, of course, but
after this remark we both forgot the
very existence of shoes for at least half
an hour. Then Jack fished the pair in
question from their muddy resting place
and replaced them on iny feet.
You aren't going to change your
mind and say ‘No,’ now you’ve got
them?” lie asked tenderly, as he looked
up Into my face.
I stiook my head with a gay little
laugh.
"It would serve you right If I did.
Just to pay you out for your meanness,”
I retorted. "But perhaps this time I
will be generous. After all it was only
tiie loss of dignity I minded. I felt so
small stranded there, but I forgave you
when you did not laugh.”
“A matter of dignity," he said lightly,
sealing my forgiveness with a kiss.
“What is that darling—when it was
also a matter of love?”
“Mr. Glenarm. you have been hard
on me: there have been times when you
have been very .unjust—”
W'hen I pushed the panel open and we
stepped out into the crypt, Stoddard whis
tled and Larry swore softly.
"It must be 'for something!” exclaimed
tiie chaplain. “You don’t suptpose Mr.
Glenarm built a secret passage just for
the fun of it, do you? He must have
had some purpose. Why, I sleep out
here wit'hin forty yards of where we
stand and I ne.ver had the slightest idea
of tills.”
“lilt other people seem to know of it,”
observed Larry.
“To be sure; tiie curiosity of the
whole countryside was undoubtedly piqued
by the building of Glenarm house. The
fact that workmen were brought from
a distance was in itself enough to arouse
interest. Morgan seems to have discov
ered the passage without any trouble.”
“More likely it was Ferguson. He was
the sexton of tlie church and had
DON’T KNOW WHAT TO READ?
MERRY’S “Guide to Good Reading” will
tell you. Sent FREE, for a 2c stamp
and the addresses of ten reading people
In your community. Write COOPERA
TIVE BOOK CO., ATLANTA, GA.
They operate the cheapest and most re
liable SUBSCRIPTION AGENCY and
MAIL ORDER BOOK business in the
south, and they guarantee to SAVE
YOU MONEY on any magazine or pa
per or book procurable, If such saving
is possible under publishers’ rules.
MIDDLE-AGED capitalist, lonesome, desires com
panionship of loving wife; rich or poor makes no
inference. Write Ilox 425, St. Joseph, Michigan.
Minnif BIPU 1.1st of Descriptions anJ
MAnnl *>10" Photos Free (sealed) Stan-
* dard Cor. Club, mS Avers Av. Chicago
a
^ MAGIC NEEDLES & RODS
—r for treasure seekers. < oiaratttux! beet jostle.
' Very Interest! eg hook -ree -nr Seetu stamp
Oem Novelty Co., 7 Elm St., Palmyra, fa.
SONG-POEMS »>“?
ftfflwRatioPublishingC*. ^ Inttr°prtu > Mi.Cto**
$25 PRIZE for host name for our
Magazine. We help women earn
money at home. Particulars for' self-
addressed stamped envelope. LADIES’
MUTUAL AID SOOIETY.745 Manas-
sa% Virginia.
The House of a Thousand
Candles
Continued from First Page.
Larry’s scrutiny of the man. i dis
missed him as soon as possible that we
might talk freely.
“Take it up and down and all around,
WiuM. do you think of ull this?" I artked.
Larry wais silent for a moment;; lie
was not given to careless speech in per
sonal matters.
"There’s more to it than frightening
jou off or getting your grandfather's
money. It's my guess that there's some
thing in this house that somebody—Pick
ering, supposedly—is very anxious to
find."
"Yes; I begin to think bo. He could
come in here legally if it were merely
a. matter of lost assets.”
"Yes; and whatever it Is it must be
well hidden. As I remember, your
grandfather died in uJne. Yu got a
letter^calling you home in October.”
It was sent out blindly, with not one
chance in a hundred that It would ever
teach me.”
“lo be pure. You were a wanderer on
the face of the earth, and there was no-
cutiy in America to look after your In
terests. You may be sure that the place
was thoroughly ransacked while you
’Acre sailing home. I'll wager you the
best dinner you ever ate that there's
more at stake than your grandfather's
money. The situation is inspiring. I
grow* interested. I'm almost persuaded
to linger.”
CHAPTER XX.
A TRIPLE ALLIANCE.
I-aJTy refused to share my quarters and
chr.sc a room for himself, which Bates
fitted U(p out of the house stores. 1
•lid not know what Bates might surmise
about Larry, but nt accepted my friend
in good part, as t guest who would re
main indefinitely. He seemed to inter
est Larry, whose e ,r es followed the man
iifciuiringly. Wnen we went into Bates’
roorr. on our tour of the house, Larry
scanned the books on a little shelf with
suet lung more than a casual eye. There
were exactly four vlumes—Shakespeare’s
Comedies, "The Faerie Queen,” Sterne’s
"Sentimental Journey” and Yeats’ "Land
of Heart’s Desire.”
“A queer customer. Hirry. Nobody
but my grandfather could ever have dis
covered him—he found him uip in Ver
mont.”
"I suppose his being a bloomin' Yankee
naturally accounts for this,” remarked
Larry, taking from under the pillow of
the narrow Iron bed a copy of the Dub
lin Freeman's Jourtta,.
"It is a little odd,” I said. “But if
you found a Yiddish newspaper or an
Egyptian papyrus under hte pillow 1
should not be surprised."
“Nor I,” said Larry. “I'll wager that
not another shelf in this part of the
world contains exactly that collection
of books, and nothing else. You will no
tice that there was once a book-plate
In rach of these volumes and that It's
been scratched out with care.”
me to take from you? Haven't I known
that you were in league with Picker
ing? I'm not as dull ns ] look, and after
ycur interview with Pickering in the
chapel porch you can't convince me that
you were faithful to my interests at
that time."
He started and gazed at me wondor-
ingly. I lnaU had no intention of using
the ehapel porch interview at this time,
but it leaped out of me uncontrollably.
“I suppose, sir," he began brokenly,
"that I can hardly persuade you that
I meant no wrong on that occasion.”
"You certainly ran not—and It’s safer
for you not to try. But I’m willing to
let that go as a reward for your work
last night. Make your choice now; stay
here and stop your spying or clear out
of Annandale within an hour.”
He look a step tomard me; the table
was between us and he drew quite near
but stood clear of It, erect until there
was something almost soldierly and com-
mandiiiig in Ills figure.
"By God, I will stantl by you, John
Glenarm!” he said, and struck the table
smartly with his clenched hand.
He flushed instantly, and I felt the
blood mounting into my own face as we
gazed at each other—he. Bat's, the serv
ant, and I, his master! He had always
addressed me so punctiliously with the
‘sir” of respect that ills declaration of
fealty, spoken with so sincere and vigor
ous an air of inUependtnce, and with the
hold emphasis of an oath, held me spell
bound. storing at him. The silence was
broken by Larry, who sprang forward
•and grasped Bates’ hand.
“I. too. Bates.” I said, feeling my heart
leap with liking, even with admiration
for the real manhood that seemed to
transfigure this hireling—this fellow whom
I hald charged with most infamous treach
ery, this servant who had cared for my
needs in so humble a spirit of subjec
tion.
The knocker on the front door sounded
peremptorily, and Bates turned away
without another worth and admitted Stod
dard, who came in hurrbfily.
“Merry Christmas!” in his big hearty
tones was hardly consonant with the
troubled look on Ills face. I Introduced
him to Larry and asked him to sit
down.
"Pray excuse our disorder—we didn’t
do it for fun; It was one of Santa Clous’
tricks.”
He stared about wonderingly.
"So you caught it, too, did you?”
“To be 6ure. You don’t mean to say
that they raided the chapel?”
“That’s exactly what I mean to say.
"When I went Into the church for my
early service I found that some one had
ripped off the wainscoting in a half a
dozen places an<j even pried up the
altar. It’s Jhe most outrageous thing
I ever knew. You've heard of the pro
verbial poverty of the church mouse—
what do you suppose anybody could want
to raid a. 6lmple little country chapel
for? And more curious yet, the church
iplate was untouched, though the closet
where it’s kept was upset, as though
the miscreants had been looking for
something they didn’t find.”
Stoddard was greatly disturbed and
gazed about the topsy-turvy library with
growing indignation.
We drew together for a council of
war. Here was an opportunity to en
list a new recruit on my side. I already
felt stronger by reason of Larry’s ac
cession; as to Bates, my mind was still
numb and bewildered.
"Larry, there’s no reason why wa
shouldn’t Join forces with Mr. Stoddard,
as he seems to be affected by this strug
gle. We owe it to him and the school
to put him on guard, particularly since
we know that Ferguson’s with the en
emy.”
Yes, certainly,” said Larry.
unequivocal, as you undoubtedly under
stood when you accepted them, and your
absence, not only from the estate itself,
but from Wabana county, violates be
yond question your right to Inherit.
I. as executor, therefore demand that
jou at once vacate said property, leaving
It in as good condition as when received
by you. Very truly yours,
ARTHUR PICKERING,
Executor of the Estate of John Marshall
Glenarm.
“Very truly the devil’s." growled Lar-
r>, snapping his cigarette case viciously.
‘IIow did he find out?’’, I asked lame
ly, but my heart sank like lead. Had
Marian Devereux told him! How else
could he know?
“Probably from the stars—the whole
universe undoubtedly saw yo u skipping
off to meet your lady love. Bah. these
women!”
“Tut! They don’t all marry the sons
of brewers,” I retorted. "You asured
me once, while your affair with that
Trlsh girl was on, that the short upper
lip made heaven seem possible, but un
necessary; then the next thing I knew
she had shaken you for the bloated
masher. Take that for your Imperti
nence. But perhaps it was Bates?”
I did not wait for an answer. I was
was not Ir) a mood for reflection or nice
distinctions. The man c ame In just then
with a fresh plate of toast.
“Bates, Mr. Pickering has learned that
I was away from the house on the
night <*f the attack, and I’m ordered oft
for having broken my engagement to
stay here. How do you suppose he
beard of It so promptly?”
“From Morgan, quite possibly. I have
a letter from Mr. Pickering myself this
morning. Just a moment, sir.”
He placed before me a note bearing
the same date as my own. It was a
sharp rebuke of Bates for his failure
to report my absence, and he was or
dered to prepare to leave on the first of
February. “Close your accounts at the
shopkeepers’ and I will audit your bills
on my arrival.”
The tone was peremptory and con
temptuous. Bates had failed to satisfy
Pickering and was flung off like a
smoked-out cigar.
“How much had he allowed you for
expenses. Bates?”
He met my gaze Imperturbably.
“He paid me $50 a month as wages,
sir, and I was allowed $75 for the other
expenses.”
. _ T , i , , „,„,i “But you didn't buy English pheas-
and Larry. I felt sure, had not attended , . „ _ “ . ,,
. . . ....... ants and champagne on that allow-
‘Unjust—my God, what do you expect chance to Investigate,” said Stoddard.
|7‘
“And now, gentlemen, I must go to my
service. I'll see you again before the
day is over.”
“And we make no confidences?” I
admonished.
'Sdeutto!—I believe that is the proper
expression under ull the circumstances."
And the Rev. Paul Stoddard laug'hed,
clasped my hand and went up into the
chapel vestry.
1 closed the door in the wainscoting and
hung the map back in ipilace.
We went up info the little chapel and
found a small company of worshipers as
sembled—a few people from tiie surround
ing farms, half a dozen sisters sitting
somberly near the chancel and the school
servants.
Stoddard came out Into the chancel,
lighted the altar tapers and began the
Anglican communion olTice. I had for
gotten what a church service was like;
that the lady who is entitled to it gets
all there is coming to her, and as you
don't trust the executor, any further than
a true 'Irishman trusts a British prime
minister’s promise, you're going to stand
by to watch the boodle counted. Is that
a correct analysis of your intentions?"
“That’s as near one of*my ideas aa
you’re likely to get, Larry Donovan!”
“And if be comes with the authorities
—the sheriff and that sort of thing—we
must prepare for such an emergency,” in
terposed the chaplain.
“So much the worse for the sheriff and
the rest of them!” I declared.
"Spoken like a man of spirit. And now
we’d better stock up at once, in case we
should 'be shut off from our source of
supplies. This is a lonely place here;
even the echool is a remote neighbor.
Better let Bates raid the village shops
tomorrow. I’ve tried being hungry, and I
don’t care to repeat the experience.'
“At a recent mass meeting of the John
son party at St. Louis, a letter from
Major General F. P. Blair, Jr., was read,
in which he claims that England or
France would be proud to accept aus
equal citizens all men who had acted so
nobly and gallantly as the southern peo
ple. He says that those nations wotifc*
be happy to claim as their own men life
Lee and Johnston; and then he asks:
’Would they fail to honor and cherish,
as part of their own glory, the memory
of that illustrious throng of the dead,
led by Stonewall Jackson?’ Mr. Blair
does himself honor by such sentiments.”
THE FLIGHT, CAPTURE AND Im
prisonment of Jefferson Davis.
Continued from Second Page.
encampment wns part of a large cavalry
And Larry reach'd for tiie tobacco jar. force that was sent by General J H
”1 cant imagine, I really can't believe, ’ Wilson to rapture, not President Davis"
began the chaplain, "that Miss Devereux. of whose vicinity he was not aware’
wil want to be brought into this estate; but tbe majch talked of .. treagure traln .!
matter in any way. In fact I have heard of whlob he had heard
Sister Theresa say as much. I suppose; Thus lt was that t . hls basf]esg report
Church since the last time ’his family
had dragged him to choral vespers.
I was comforting to know that here
was, at least, one place of peace within
reach of Glenarm house. But I may
be forgiven, I hope, if my mind wan
dered that morning, and my thoughts
played hide-aiul-seek with memory. For
it was here. In the winter twilight, that
Marian Devereux had poured out her
girl’s heart in a great flood of mel
ody. I was glad that the organ was
closed; it would have wrung my heart
to hear a note from it that her hands
did not evoke.
When we came out upon the church
porch and I stood oil the steps to al
low Larry to study the grounds, one of
the brown-robed sisterhood spoke my
name.
It was Sister Theresa.
“Can you come in for a moment?" she
asked.
”1 will follow at once,” I said.
She met me in the reception room
where 1 had seen her before.
“I’m sorry to trouble you on Christmas
Day with my affairs, but I have had a
letter from Mr. Pickering, saying that he
will be obliged to bring suit for settle
ment of my account witli Mr. Glenarm’s
estate. 1 needn’t say that this troubles
me greatly. In my position a lawsuit
is uncomfortable; it would do a real
harm to the school. Mr. Pickernig im
plies in a very disagreeable way that
I exercised an undue influence over Mr.
Glenarm. You can readily understand
that that is not a pleasant accusation.”
“He is going pretty far,” I said.
“He gives me credit for a degree of
power over others that 1 regret to say
1 do not possess. He thinks, for in
stance. that I am responsible for Miss
Devereux’s attitude toward him—some
thing that I have had nothing whatever
to do with.”
“No, of course not.”
“I'm glad you^have no harsh feeling
toward her. It was unfortunate that
Mr. Glenarm saw fit to mention her in
Iris will. It has given her a great deal
of notoriety, and lias doubtless strength
ened the impression In some minds that
she and 1 really plotted to get as much
as possible of your grandfather’s es
tate.”
“No one would regret all tills more
than my grandfather—I am sure of that.
It seems hardly possible that a man so
shrewd as he. and so thoughtful of the
feelings of others, should have Jett so
many loose ends behind him. But I as
sure you I am giving my whole atten
tion to these matters, and I am wholly
at your service in anything I can do to
help you.”
”1 sincerely hope that nothing may in
terfere to prevent your meeting Mr.
Glenarm s wish that you remain through
the year. That was a curious and whim
sical provision, but it is not, I imagine,
so difficult.”
She spoke in a kindly tone of enoour-
anoe-
Ile was carrying away the coffee try
and his eyes wandered to tiie windows.
“Not quite sir. You see—”
"But I don’t see—”
“Tt had occurred to me that as Mr.
Pickering’s allowance wasn't what you
might call generous It was better to
augment it—Well. sir. I took the liberty
of advancing a trifle, as you might say,
to the estate. Your grandfather would
not have had you starve, sir.”
He left hurriedly, as though to escape
from t lie consequences of his wordes,
and when I came to myself Larry was
gloomily Invoking his strange Irish gods.
"Larry Donovan. I've been tempted to
kill that fellow a dozen times! This
thing Is too damned complicated for
me. I wish my lamented grandfather
had left me something easy. To think
there's no way of preventing a man from
leaving his property to a young woman,
who has no claim on him—wiio doesn’t
•went anything from him.”
“Baih. these women! People don’t
tihrow legacies to the birds these days.
Of course, she'll take it."
Then his eyes widened and met mine
in a gaze that reflected the mystification
and wonder that struck both of us. Stod
dard turned from the fire suddenly:
“What’s that? There's some one up
stairs!”
Larry was already running toward the
■hall, and I heard him springing up the
steps like a cat, while Stoddard and i
'followed.
“"Where's Bates?" demanded the chap
lain.
"I'll thank you for the answer,” 1 re
plied.
Larry stood at the top of the staircase,
holding a candle at arm's length in front
of him, staring about.
We could hear quite distinctly some one;
walking on a stairway; tiie sounds were!
unmistakable, Jusi as 1 had hetu-d them;
on severs? previous occasions, without ’•
ever being able to trace their source.
The noise ceased suddenly, leaving u» j
with no bint of its whereabouts.
I w*ent directly to the rear of tiie house |
had led directly to the capture of the
chief executive of the dying confed
eracy.
DAVIS ON LINCOLN.
While the prisoners were being eon-
dneted to Macon. Ga., the proclamation
of President Andrew Johnson offering
a reward for tiie apprehension of Jeffer
son Davis, as an aecomplice in the as
sassination of President Lincoln, was
received. At nn interview with General
Wilson in Macon, the latter referred
to the proclamation. Mr. Davis told
the general that there was at least one
man in the north who knew the pro
clamation to be false. “And that man.”
| he said, “is the one who signed it, for he
knows well tliat I vastly preferred the
murdered 'Lincoln to himself. The one
was gfnerous and kind-hearted, and
would have befriended the conquerel
south. The other is cruel, and full of
malignity to the south.” This he said
In the hope nn ( ] belief that any remarks
he might make on the subject w’ould bA
reported to the Washington authorities.
He afterwards su'd that he rejoiced at
this opportunity of letting Mi*. Johnson
know what he thought of him.
One by one President Davis’ fellow
prisoners were sent away, some to prin-
and found Bates putting the lashes away
in the pantry.
“Where nave you been?” I demanded.
’"'Here, sir; I have been clearing up the;
dinner tilings, Mr. Glenarm. Is
anything tiie matter, sir?”
"Nothing.”
I joined fue others in tile library.
“Why didn't you tell me this feudal! er
some paroled, until at last only
himself and family, and the Hon. C. C.
Clay and his ‘Wife, were left on board the
stfamer William P. Clyde when she cast
t here I anchor at Hr.mpton Roads on the I9 r h
C [ of May, 1865. in addition to Vice Presi-
I dent Alexander H. Stephens, and John
i H. Reagan, postmaster general, and Gen-
al Wheeler and his staff. All of these
imitation was haunted?” asked Larry, in! prisoners, except the two first named,
a grieved tone. "All it needed was a! were placed on board of other steamers
cheerful ghost, and now 1 believe it lacks; and conveyed to other points.
absolutely nowiing. i ni increasingly glau
1 came. How otten does u walk. '
"It’s not on a schedule. Just now it
the wind in tiie tower probably; me
plays queer pranks up there sometimes.
i On tiie morning of the twenty-second
j of May, Mr. Davis and Mr. Clay were
j landed at Fortress Monroe. The roomy
winu i casemates of the fortress had been hasti
ly prepared for their reception. Brick-
'iouil have to do better than that, I layers had constructed regular ce.ls each
Glenarm,” said Sitoddard. "it s as still I divided into two rooms. The outer one
outside as a country graveyard.”
“Only the slaugh siuhe, the people of
the faery hills, the cheertulest ghosts in
the world,” said Larry. “Vou literal Sax-j
ons can't grasp the idea, of course.”
But there was substance enough in our
dangers without pursuing shadows. Cer
I of each cell was for the prisoner the
! inner room for his guards. The feelings
tiie distinguished chief of the confed
eracy as the heavy iron doors closed be
hind him can be better imagined than
described. In that clang of that doer
tain tilings were planned that night. Wej sounded the death knell of the cause
determined to exercise every precaution! b e had deemed a righteous one, and it
light be iris own death knell as well.
On the following morning a most bitter
trial was inflicted on his proud spirit.
“ j Such a cruel and needless trial it was
had never before in modern times,
rive shortly, and we wfcdied to anticipate! been inflicted on one who had occupied
to prevent a surprise from without, and
we resolved upon a new and systematic
sounding of wails and floors, taking our!
clue from the efforts made by Morgai
and his ally to find hiding places by thisj
process. Pickering would undoubtedly ar- as
so high a position. That morning Mr.
f! Davis was shackled. It was not accom
plished without the horrified remon
strance of tiie outraged prisoner. Weak
his movements as far as possible.
We resolved, too, upon a day patrol
the grounds and a night guard. The sug
gestion came, I believe, from Stoddard
whose interest in my affairs was onl\ , , , ,, .
equaled toy tiie fertility of his sugges-i and wasted as he was . the prisoner
tions. One of us should remain abroad sisted the blacksmith s attempts to tast-
at. night, ready to sound the alarm in j en the shackles upon him, and a file
of it—timt fellow, after my treatment of I case °f attack. Bates should take his! of soldiers was finally summoned to com-
him—my cursing and abusing him since !
I came here! Great Scott, man, I've ;
the rest—Stoddard
turn with
on it
. ...... T , . ,, | Within two days we were
been enjoying his bounty, I ve been liv- expressed it. on a war footing.
Larrv!
added 1
father’s memory
the fellow again!”
Lord, I
. , , - . , assembled a remarkable collecllo
As I have sail, before, you re rather i heavy siieks; he had mt
insisted; p e j his submission. Even then. Mr.
Davis snatched a rifle from one of them,
and besought them to kill him before
ing on his money. And ail the time j a couple of shotguns and' sf'vcraT ro- j putting this cruel indignity upon h:m.
he's been trusting in me, just because; volvers to my own arsenal, and piled the! There was a sharp, but brief, tussle,
of his dog-like devotion to my grand-! library table with cartridge boxes. Bates,! and lie was thri wn upon his bed and
n't face I as quartermaster, brought a couple! held while the irons were fastened in
of wagon loai\ of provisions. Stoddard! 1)lace
- - ore confidence m' REMOVING THE FETTERS
lacking at times in perspicacity. Your them, he said, than»in gunpowder, and, 1 The mental and physical pain of this
intelligence is marred by large opaque moreover, be explained, a priest ’might cruel indignity, resulted in tiie illness of
Now that there's a woman in the; not with propriety bear arms. - the unhappy prisoner, and Dr. Craven.
Tt was a cheerful company of conspira-! surgeon in tin* United States army, who
these women! And now we've got to go' !° ls .!* ia * T now gathered around the big was stationed at the fortress, was at
rsiLd^rs z st ':z„ p z f ; r Zi — r aiied as his f p r ician - tl The
mantel shelf, pipe in mouth, and Stod- S°od doctor was one of the tnani thou-
dard sought the biggest chair—and filled sands of the north, as well as those of
it. He and Larry understood each other tiie south, whose intense indignation and
at once, and Larry's stories, ranging in; shame had been aroused bv what they
subject from undergraduate experiences i tlv terme d “an act of unjustifiable
at Dublin to adventures in Africa and . ..
always Including endless conflicts with| crue ty '
the Irish constabulary, delighted the bis
boyish clergyman.
Often, at some one’s suggestion of
spots
case you’re
He always li'ked or disliked new people a sement that made me feel uneasy and
urttequlvocally, and I was glad to see that
he surveyed the big clergyman with ap
proval.
“I ll begin at the beginning.” I said,
“and tell you the whole story.”
He listened quietly to the end while I
told him of my experience with Morgan,
of the tunnel into the chapel crypt, and
finally of the afTair in the night and our
Interview with Bates.
“I feel like rubbing my eyes and ac
cusing you of reading pentjy-horrors,” he
said. “That doesn't sound like the twen
tieth century in Indiana."
“But Ferguson—you'd better have a care
in his direction. Sister Theresa—”
“Bless your heart! Ferguson’s gone—
without notice. He got his traps and
skipped without saying a word to any
one.”
“We’ll hear from him again, no doubt.
Now. gentlemen, I Htlieve we under
stand one another. I don’t like to draw
you, either one of you. into my private
affairs—’”
The big chaplain laughed.
“Glenarm”—prefixes went out of com
mission quickly that morning—“if you
hadn't let me In on this I should never
feav«, cot over It. Why, this la a vac*
almost ashamed for having already for
felted my claim under the will. Her
beautiful gray eyes disconcerted me; X
had not the heart to deceive her.
I have already made it impossible for
me to inherit under the will,” I said.
I lie disappointment in her face rebuked
me sharply.
"I am sorry, very sorry, indeed.” she
said coldly. "But how, may I ask?”
”1 ran away, last night. I went to
Cincinnati to see Miss' Devereux.”
She rose, staring In dumb astonish
ment, and after a full minute in which
A OKEAT. DISCOVERY.
DROPSY
CURED with vagstaMa nae
•dies; entirely harmless; re-
■hoves all symptoms of drop
sy In 8 to so days, jn to fa
days effects permanent cure
Trial treatment furnlshe:
free to every sufferer: nothd
leg fairer. For cli infers.test.
Imonlals and free tioitment.
write
Dr. H.H. Croon** Son*
MA.ARoMa.Ga.
to work
Bali, these women! My own heart
caught the words. I was enraged and
hitter. No wonder she lihd been anx
ious for me to avoid Pickering after
daring me to follow her! ^
We called a council of war for that
night that we might view matters in the
light of Pickering's letter. His assured
ness in ordering ups to leave made
prompt and decisive action necessary on
my part. I summoned Stoddard to our
conference, feeling confident of his
friendliness.
“Of course,” said the broad-shouldered
chaplain, ’’it' you could now show that
your absence was on business of very
grave importance, the courts might con
strue it that you had not really vio
lated the will.”
Larry looked at the celling and blew
rings of smoke languidly. I had not
disclosed to either of them the cause
of my absence. On such a matter I
knew I should get precious little sym
pathy from I^trry, and I had, moreover,
a feeling that I could not discuss Marian
Devereux with any one; I even shrank
from mentioning her name, though it
rang like tiie call of bugles In my blood.
She was always before me—the
charmed spirit of youth, linked to every
foot of the earth, every gleam of the
sun upon the Ice-bound lake, every glory
of the winter sunset. All the good im
pulses I had ever stifled were quickened
to life by the thought of oer. Amid
tiie day's perplexities I started some
times, thinking I heard her voice, her
girlish laughter, or saw her again com
ing toward me down the stairs, or hold
ing against the light her fan with Its
golden butterflies. I really knew so
little of her: I could associate her with
no home, only with that last fling of the
autumn upon the lake, the snow-driven
woodland, that twilight hour at the or
gan in the chapel, those stolen moments
at the Armstrongs. I resented the pres
sure of the hour’s affairs, and
chafed at the necessity for talk
ing of my perplexities with the
good friends who were there to help. I
wished to toe alone, to yield to the Bweet
mood that the thought of her brought
me. The douibt that crept through my
mind as to any possibility of connivance
‘between her and Pickering was as vague
and fleeting as the shadow of a swallow’s
wing on a sunny meadow.
"You don’t intend fighting the fact of
your absence, do you?” demanded Larry,
after a long silence.
“Of course not!" I replied quietly.
“Pickering was right on my heelS, and
my absence was known to his men here.
And it would not toe square to my grand
father—Who never harmed a flea, may hla
It was. therefore, with intense
satisfaction that Dr. Craven found that
I he could honestly, as his physician, in
sist upon the instant removal of the
new Idea, we ran off to explore flic house fetters He gave his flat to the com-
nirain in search of the key to the Glenarm
riddle, and always we camp RJick to the
library wi;li that riddle still unsolved.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Leaves from an Old
Scrap Book
* Continued from Second Page.
with the words ’Our Own Southern Bit
ters’ conspicuously printed on it, and
alluding to it, he said to his new made
friend. ’Why do you try in this way,
even In such a (place as this, to perpet
uate the memory of the war?’ The ex-
■rebel smiled and replied; ‘Really, I don't I something, but checked himse’.f, or was
like such things, and though that is but j checked by a rush of emotion, and sat
niander of the fortress. General Miles,
and he, in turn forwarded it to Wash
ington. The order to strike off the pris
oner's irons arrived on the morning of
tiie 28th, just five days after they had
been put on.
What happened next, Dr. Craven re
lates as follows. He entered the cell
shortly after the irons had been re
moved.
Says the doctor, in his account of ‘The
Shackling of Jefferson Davis." in Pear
son's Magazine for May- of the current
year:
“Air. Davis arose from his seat both
hands extended, and his eyes filled with
tears. He was evidently about to say
a trifle, I would not have even it dis
played so, If I could have my way. But
that is the device of a New England
man, and the Southern Bitters are made
and labelled iii New England, and the
keeper of this saloon is a Yankee, who
came here since the war, and is about
the only man in New Orleans who is not
■subjugated, as your people call it. and
down upon his bed. That I was grati
fied toy the change. I will not deny.”
As the months rolled on, a greater de
gree of liberty was allowed the distin-
i guished captive. In the next year, 1866,
he was formally indicted for treason.
But his captors could not agree as to
the time or place for his trial. Finally,
on the 13th of May, almost two years
says toe can’t be subjugated. If we took to a day from the time of his capture.
Ills advice, we would raise another re- I Mr. Davis was taken to Richmond on
hellion tomorrow.’
a writ of habeas corpus and admitted
“Passing by a book store some time ! to bail in the sum of $100,000 to appear
after, with the same officer, my inform- i at Richmond for trial on the 2nd of No
ant saw a large picture of Stonewall I vember. At the specified time he ap-
Jackson draped in mourning with some ! peared, and then disappeared, the latter
heroic motto printed underneath it, and ! with the full consent of the court, as it
he remarked, ’There’s more of it. Tlie=e j was not yet ready to try him. He was
are .the things they magnify to your dis- ordered to appear again in March of
advantage in the north.’ ‘Well,’ said the I the coming year. Once again, however,
ex-rebel, ‘that’s another of your own j the examination of Jefferson Davis was
sort. The owner of that store is a t postponed. Op the 25th of December,
Yankee who never trod the sod of the j Christmas Day, however, the president
south until the war w®» over. He’s I of the United States issued an amnesty
what you’d call the worst kind of a
traitor now. Such men come here and
they think by appealing to the passions
created by the war they can drive a big
business. They succeed very often, be
cause our people are easily excited by
such thlngis, for they cannot forget
Stonewall Jackson, even when he is put
before them in the form of a Yankee
trick like this.’ Other illustrations to
the same point might be given, all tend-
proclaniation, declaring unconditionally
and without reservation, a full pardon
and amnesty to every person who had
participated in the late insurrection. This
of ourse. included Mr. Davis, and freed
his generous bondsmen, once for all.
In July, 1879, Mrs. Sarah Dorsey died,
leaving by will to Jefferson Davis, her
beautiful home at Beauvoir, Miss., sev
eral valuable plantations and all her per
sonal property. Thus relieved from care
and anxiety as to the .future, —or. Davis
ing to show, first, that the ^feeling of i oe< ^ l| Pl e J himself in writing the two val-
the southern oeonle toward the a-overn- I V, a \\ e ' entitled The Rise and •
Fall of the Confederate Government.
the southern people toward the govern
ment is grossly misrepresented by par
ties in-tereeted Id the postponement of 1 her 6, 1889.
He died peacefully at Beauvoir, Parent