Bloomington Progress, Bloomington, Monroe County, 22 December 1899 — Page 3

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CHAPTER XXIII. "Lenore r he repeated, "what does it mean? Why are yon here in the darkness and stillness of night stealing into the house that is your own?'' She held up her hand with, an imperative gesture for silence. "Hush!" she cried. "It is not mine; it will never be my home again. Your sin has barred the threshold to me; it is no tome of mine." Again he was quite at a loss to understand her. He repeated his question: "Why did you leave me why have you stolen back to your home like this, like a thief in the night? What were you doing here in the darkness?" He turned suddenly to the place where he had found her, her troubled eyes followed him. Then he saw the picture lying on the floor, the door of the little cupboard open; then his glance of horror fell on the scarf and the booch. He looked at them for some few minutes in silent wonder, silent horror; then his eyes met hers, and they gazed spellbound at each other until he roused himself and, fointing to the proofs of murder, said: "I know these; they are the scarf and the brooch, missing from Austin when lie was found." "You know them well," she answered, sadly. Then a red gleam of anger came into ;his face, his eyes flashed. "What does this mean?" he cried. ""Why do I find you here with these? 1 hare heard you say that these when tfound would be a certain proof of guilt." "I know it; that is why I came in search of them," she said, "to destroy them. I I could not rest while they existedI came to destroy them, and when that is done I will go from this fatal house, never to return. They have been before my eyes by night and by day. 1 Tiave thought of them, dreamed of them; sthey have burned my heart and my brain; I said to myself that, no matter what risk I ran, I would come back here and -destroy them." "Lenore!" he cried; and she saw him draw back from her with a shudder. "That you should utter such words! Who placed them there?" "I did," she answered; "I placed them there." And again they, glanced spellbound at each other. "I am neither dreaming nor mad, Lenore, yet I hear you say these, words jrou placed here, you hid in this place, the .proofs of the murder of Austin Chandosv Answer me, how came they in your aiands?' "You know best," she replied, in a low Toice; "why prolong this? Let me go. Give me those things that I may destroy them, then let me go." "I do not know best; I will know. I ask again, and I demand an answer how came these things in your possession?" "I found them in yonr wardrobe," she replied. "Why do you play this farCe with me? Why ask these questions?

Way reign tnis ignorance, wneu you fcnow the whole horrible truth?" He looked at her with complete bewilderment. He stopped, the words died on his lips, then, struggling against himself, he said: "I begin to perceive a horrid truth that had never even dawned upon me before. Can it be possible that you you, Lenore, had anything to do with that terrible' death? Were you guilty?" He laid his hand on her arm as he spoke, and she looked up at him with wonder. "You were gnilty," she said; "not I." "I! Oh, no, Lenore; I loved you with a mad love; I sacrificed my .life's happiness and everything to you; but, before heaven I am quite innocent of your hus!and's death." "You you killed him," she said. "I did not! If any one but you uttered such words ' I would take vengeance, but you are privileged to insult me as no one else could do. You say you found these things in my wardrobe; I say it is false, you did not; I say that an angel in heaven could not be more free from blame than I am over him. I have never even seen these things before." "Yet you recognize them," she said. "Because you have spoken of them so often, and have described them so well. Let us be frank and open. You suspect me of having murdered Austin Chandos?" "Yes," she replied; "I have almost certain proofs." "And I," he answered, "when I saw you with these things near you, when I heard you say that you had come to destroy them, I, for one moment, believed you guilty. See how appearances deceive; on what have you condemned me? Tell me the proofs, tell me the cause of my wife's judgment my wife's judgment given against me?" "You were, unknown and disguised," she answered. "You were here on the spot, on the day he was slain." "No, I was here on the morning of that day I left at noon," he answered. "Why were you here? "Have you not seen the pocketbook did you not read my diary?" "No. Why were you here, Cyril?" "Oh, madman blind, foolish that I was," he replied, "why did t come? I

will tell you, Lenore; you, who have wounded iny heart of hearts with cruel suspicion. I came because the love of you was burning my soul away, because I could not rest, nor sleep, nor live, so great was my longing to look upon your face again. I said to myself that if I could see it my soul would take new life; that if for once I could look upon you, see if you were happy, see you smile, hear you speak, see you in your daily life, with your husband and friends around you the thought of your happiness would cheer my lonely life. You know what dreams come to exiles. Such a dream came to me, and it drove me here against my better sense, against my judgment and my reason. I came if the journey had cost my life, I should still have come and my great, passionate longing was realized, my great desire fulfilled. 1 watched round your house, I stood a whole night under your windows, I followed you in the distance when you went

out, I walked after you, I heard Austin speak to you, and I heard your reply. Then I said to myself that you were happy, and that I might go back to my exile. I went back on the noon of the day when Austin died; there is one person who can testify to the truth of what I say, and that is Gladie Beaton." Lenore repeated the name. He continued: "Tell me, now, the second proof against me." There was more hesitation in her face, more in her voice, as she answered: 'These things that I found in your wardrobe." "I never placed them there. I told you to look for my pocketbook; that contains my diary; and if you had read it, you would have understood what brought me home. It appears to me that you did not find the pocketbook, but these things in its stead." "It was so," she answered. "I did not slay him, Lenore," said Sir Cyril. "I am as innocent of his death as you are." "Nor did I," she said, and then silence fell on them again. "I do not understand it," said Lenore, slowly; "it seems to me as though some one had done all this and had meant us to believe each other guilty." "Could you ever Have really believed mo guilty, Lenore?" he asked. "I did," she answered. "I thought it all over, and my judgment was against you. You will own that appearances were strongly against you?" "Yes, there is a certain amount of reason in your suspicions; but, Lenore, some one must have done all this. Who told you that I had been here? Who removed my pocketbook? Who placed these things in my wardrobe? Who has slowly but surely poisoned my wife's mind against me? Who has been my enemy, and done these things?" She made no answer, but looked at him with thoughtful eyes.

"I can tell you," he said, "and I am sure of my words before I utter them it was Gladie. Beaton, was it not, Lenore? tell me." "Yes, it was Gladie," she answered, wondering that he should know. "I thought so. Now, before we say more before I reproach you for your judgment of me, I will bring her here bring her to you, and she shall clear me or prove me guilty." Without another word, he went away, leaving her alone. He was absent for some few minutes; when he returned, Gladie was with him, and they entered the room together.

CHAPTER XXIV. A cry of surprise escaped Miss Beaton's lips when she saw who stood in Jhat well-lighted room. "LenoTe, I did not know that you were here," she began. She went to her as though she would fain take her in her arms and kiss her face, but Sir Cyril -interposed. "Do not touch her," he said. "I will not have you touch even the hem of her garments until you have cleared yourself of the accusations I bring forward against you. Gladie Beaton, it seems to me that in you we have nursed a traitor; that we have loved and cared for one who has wounded us to the death." She glanced at him; then her eyes fell on the scarf and brooch; a cry that was like the despair of a lost soul came from her lips. "I thought you had gone and did not intend to return, Lenore," she said, but her face and her voice changed as she spoke; her self-command gave way. She fell on her knees at the table and buried her face in her hands. "You must look up and you must listen," said Sir Cyril. "You must listen and answer me. I want the truth as it stands before heaven." Some degree of self-possession returned to her; she rose from her knees and stood erect before him. "I want the truth," he said. "I see much of it, and I suspect more. I understand most perfectly why you have' tried to poison Lenore's mind against me. I see your plot. You have, by all kinds of insinuations, and lies, and intrigues, tried to make her believe that I committed that most foul murder is it not so? Do

not dare to refuse to answer me Is it not so?" "Yes," she replied. The word seemed to be dragged from her rather than spoken. "You thought that if Lenore believed me guilty she would go away, and then you would succeed in that in which hitherto you have failed?" "Yes," she said again. "You have failed most completely," he continued. "Between myself and my beloved wife you have raised a shade of mystery, a terrible doubt; but that is all. Wo love each other as truly and really now as we did years ago. You have done no harm, you have most signally failed. See, my wife forgives me as I forgive her, and all that your malevolence has done is to make her for the future more lenient in her judgment. You see for yourself that you have done no worse." There was a passion of earnestness in the way in which he clasped his wife in his arms and kissed her over and over again, kissed her face and her hands. "My darling!" he cried, "it seems to me as though I had won you from the very jaws of death. I will never reproach you that you judged me guilty, but E will say always to myself that you knew I loved you well enough to peril my soul for your sake. Her wicked plots against us shall but draw us the more closely together." Lenore looked at him with wonder in her facer "Gladie plotting against us; it cannot possibly be. She loves me, Cyril." Then the very bravery of despair came to the unhappy woman whose passions had wrecked her own life. "Nay, I do not love you, Lenore. I have never loved you. I have hated you always, because you were more beloved than I. I have been your enemy always, never your friend. I have loved your

husband, though, with all the strength of my soul, and have hated you for taking

him from me."

"Hush, Gladie; those are dreadful words," said Lenore. "They are true. I have loved him always; his love has been the crown, the bane, the evil, the joy, the curse and the blessing of my life. If he would have loved me, I should have been as good, nay, better than others are; he might

have made an angel of me; I am a demon

now. He scorned me." Something of the old sisterly love seemed to rise in Lenore's heart and plead for pity for this unhappy woman. "He could not love us both," she said, gently, "and he always loved me." The words, meant to soothe, irritated her. She laughed a terrible laugh. "Your love has cost something," she said, with the reckless frankness that was at times one of her strongest charms. "He chose you. Now listen what that choice has cost me you himself and that poor dead man." She stopped for one minute in the hurried passion of her words, and they never forgot her as she looked then; it was as if some evil spirit of passion had entered and taken possession of her. "I never knew what my vengeance would be, what shape it would assume. I dreamed of it in every form. It came to me at last. I will not tell you what 1 suffered. My hour came. Your husband came back to England, to his home here, in disguise. I knew him. He came to see you, to watch you, to feast his eyes once more on your fair face; and I penetrated the disguise. I spoke to him; 1 I told him again how well and how truly I loved him. Again he scorned me. This is how poor Austin's death came about. I asked that man to let me see iiim once more. He told me he was going back into exile. I prayed to him as a lost soul would pray to heaven, to let me see him once more. That was on the day of Austin's death. I saw him in the morning, early. He did not promise, but he did not refuse, and he never told me that he was going away at noon. I prayed him to meet me; and that night I meant to kill him. I had a small toy pistol there it lies that had belonged to him. I went out looking everywhere for him. No one, no warning, told me that he had gone. I waited in the roads and the lanes. I saw in the thick, soft gloom a man seated, on the wooden garden chair that had been placed on the cliff road. I never dreamed but that it was he; it was the same figure, the same, height; I thought he was there waiting for me. I stole behind him in the soft, thick gloom; I did not see his face. I was quite close to him. I could bear him breathe even then I fired! Shot him through the heart, and he fell dead on his face." She stopped, for a cry of horror came from Lenore, and Sir Cyril caught her in his arms. "She has more to hear," said Gladie; "fainting will not save her from it." "I am not fainting," said Lenore; "but your story is so horrible it almost kills me." "I was sorry that I had slain him, yet I never asked heaven to forgive me; it seemed to me that already I was lost. I have never even thought of a prayer since," continued Gladie. "You know all that happened afterward Cyril Leslie Vernon came home, and married you; my vengeance only slept; the time came when I could gratify it, and I did so. I poisoned your mind, Lenore; I took away the pocketbook, with its diary of love, and I placed, where I knew you must find them, these records of guilt." She turned suddenly. "How you have discovered my share in this I do not know I do not care. I am guilty, and I do not care to hide my guilt. You might have made me an angel you have made me a demon." Then Lenore stretched out her tender arms in loving supplication. "Oh, Gladie, do not harden your heart you frighten me. Let me help you I will " "Hush!" she cried; "I will hear no words from you. Cyril Leslie Vernon, I wait your judgment. I am guilty of the

murder of Austin Chandos will you give

me up to justice or shall I go free?" "Go free," he answered; and without a word, without a look, she turned from them.

Holding his wife's hand, they went back to the room. Sir Cyril took the

scarf and the brooch.

"Come with me, my darling, and see

me burn them," he said. Thev stood side b,v side while the hot.

red flames devoured them, then Sir Cyril

turned to his wife.

"Now tell me. darline. where you have

been, and what you have done since I lost you."

When she had told him they went to

see little Audley, whose delight knew no

bounds, and there was great delight everywhere when Lady Vernon took her place once more in her husband's home.

Of that terrible time they never spoke. Silence was better than words, and they

never discussed it.

They never heard more of Gladie, when she vanished from their sight in the

L'loom of that terrible night it was to

them as though she had gone to another;

world. But a few years arterwara an Europe raved of the dark beauty of a passionate, gifted woman, who was pronounced queen of the stage. The world went mad about her; the papers were filled with anecdotes of her queenly generosity and reckless life. She ruined every

man who loved her. She made for nerself a reDutation as fatal as it was uni

versal; and when, after some years, this

far-famed actress lay down to cue, ner lnst words snoken to the hirelings about

her were, "I might have been an angel,

but he made me a demon!" ana wnen they buried her there was little said of the rest of heaven. While Sir Cyril and Lady Vernon live happily and beloved, he has quite forgiv en His Wife's Judgment. (The end.) TOOK HER HOME,

And Sneaked in on Hin Return to Hear How They Liked Her. The young man was In a glow of enthusiasm as he returned to his home after escorting his fiancee to her abode. She had just made a formal call upon "his folks," and he was dashing back to hear their praises of his divinity. As he put his key into the front door some demon he thought it a good fairy at the tim e whispered him to go in quietly and overhear their delighted comments. v So he sneaked into the library adjoining the dining-room and sat down unseen and unheard, with an expectant smile upon his face. Mamma's voice was the first that reached him: "She's not pretty. Her nose is like a button, and she's got an awfully weak chin, and as for her complexion! Why, as she sat by the window her face was the color of a biscuit." "Oh! well," broke in Sister Clara, "There's no use trying to say anything to Hor ace, though I do wish he had selected a more stylish girl." He bit a Corner of a blotting-pad, while his thoughts were those of a pirate. "I don't believe her family amounts to much," said Mary. "I met her moth er at Mrs. Brown's last sociable, and she struck me as being awfully dowdy. Still, I suppose we'll have to receive them." The young man burst in upon them like a whirlwind. "No, you won't!" he screamed, as he fairly danced with rage. "No, you won't! She shall never step foot in this house again! Why, she could buy and sell you all in the matter of good looks, dresses, family, noses and complexions, and when it comes to sisters" here his voice rose to a shriek "why, she could give you all trumps and beat you hands down!" And he dashed out of the house in a frenzy, while the wo men .looked at each other and wondered if poor Horace had taken to drink already upon discovering how inferior his fiancee was to his own mother and sisters.

HOOSIEB, HAPPENINGS'

NEWS OF THE WEEK CONCISELY CONDENSED.

What our Ketfhbore are Delnr Matter j of General and Local Intereet Marriage

and Death Accidents and Crimea F

tonal Pointers About Indianlan.

Obeying Orders. It was in an aristocratic Hyde Park home. The well-trained English butler had left, and the newly engaged man, a Swede, was in the process of breaking in. Callers came, and he took the cards to his; mistress in his ungloved hands, leaving the silver card tray resting quietly in the hall. "When you bring things in here, Swenson," said she, "use the tray. It iB not proper to bring them in your hands." "Ya.as," he replied. Mrs. H. Park had a new toy terrier. The guests wished to see it, and she sent for Swenson to fetch it. Soon there was a succession of staccato yelps and whines. The door opened, a very red faced Swenson appeared with the silver tray in his left hand and a tiny toy terrier held firmly down on it with the other.

A Short Cut. "Miss Daisy, you are writing to that little brother of yours who is visiting out West, aren't you? "Yes. He's a dear little fellow. I miss him so much." "He is, indeed. Have you sealed the letter yet, Miss Daisy?" "Not yet." "Add a postscript, if you please, and tell him I want to know how he would like me for a big brother." "Mr. Spoonamore, it will be at least two weeks before you get an answer if you ask him," demurely. And the matter was settled in about two minutes.

The battle of Camden, where Gates was routed and his hopes of becoming commander-in-chief of the American armies were dissipated, was at a village of the same name in Kershaw County, S. 0., 102 miles northwest of

i Charleston,

Minor State J tenia. Frankfort is to have a new electric light) plant. Kokomo and Frankfort want stone piles for hoboes. Scarlet fever in Porter County has been stamped out. The Poles of South Bend are raising funds to send to the Boers. - Milroy Township, Jasper County, is said; to be the largest crow roost in Indiana. Elwood is to have a temperance crusade. It will be a novelty for the town. Harry Hedges of Bedford, was thrown; from his horse and fatally hurt. . Fort Wayne Commercial Club has asked for cheaper fares for working people. Commissioners of Clinton County will make the gas company furnish coal while the gas is short. ! A new telephone line from Cloverdale to: Belle Union, by the way of Horntown, is about completed. Filmore people are agitating a stone road. They want to give soft gravel and sank the shake. : Tipton Council passed an ordinance prohibiting football players from giving their yell on the streets. Fred Meier, afarmer near Evansville, was struck on the head by robbers, recently and has become insane. ; Gas Inspector Leach says there will be' plenty of gas for cities in the gas field, but those at the ends of the long lines will suffer. Marion Council reduced the gas rates from 15 to 40 per cent. The companies will not accept, and will carry it into the courts. Charles B. Caldwell, Trustee of Franklin Township, Pulaski County, has been indicted by the grand jury, charged with accepting a bribe in letting a contract. He is said to have skipped. A swindler is doing the north part of the State by ''playing broke" and selling his gold watch for $3, if can't get more. He carried a satchel full of them, and works one off at every opportunity. 'Knee-panted" boys broke in an Elkhart store and stole toys. They were pinched, but the officers are now at a loss as to what to do with them. Some are not old enough to be sent to the reformatory. Bert Julian, charged with murdering Michael Houlehan, at Colfax, Oct. 14.when he refused to give him a drink, was convicted of murder in the second degree, on the first ballot, and sentenced for life. Indiana Dairymen's Association closed its convention at Cam ridge City. The new officers are: President, C. B. Benjamin LeRoy; vice, John Shugart; SecretaryTreasurer, H. E. Van Worman, Lafayette. Albert Swartz of Indiana, who has served five years of a life sentence in the Michigan Penitentiary, charged with murdering his brother-in-law, will be pardoned Christmas. He is said to be innocent. Peru has offered free tuition for one year In high school, to pupils making the highest grade in each of the Miami County townships, and two years' free tuition to the pupil making the highest average grade in the county. A boiler in the Greensburg Limestone Company's plant at Harris City, blew up. It started from the basement and went through the roof, while the engineer, Nels Goodwin, was shot out at a window. Not hurt. Damage, $1,200. Atthe mouth of Green River, near Evansville, lives John Howard, a hermit. He enlisted in the Civil War, and when he re-, turned home, found that his sweetheart had married his brother. He then decided to live a life of seclusion. Frank Joh, living near Kokomo, was found dead in bed recently. Joh shot his friend,Edward Uphouse,last summer ,whom he mistook for a man who was in the habit of calling him up at night. Uphouse recovered and refused to prosecute, but Joh worried. Elmer Tascott, who was killed in a sawmill accident at Straughns, recently, had a premonition of his death. A few days before the accident he bought a number of presents and candy and nuts, which, he told his wife and family, were their Christmas presents, saying he did not know what might happen before Christmas. A rioh strike of valuable zino ore was made at Bioknell, a little town north of Vincennes. John Lawton, a miner, discovered it in digging a well. A piece of the ore was tested and proved to be genuine. The supply seems inexhaustible. The wildest excitement prevails and a company will be formed to sink a mine. Mrs. Harrison Taylor, wife of a well-to-do colored man of Indianapolis, left her 2-year-old daughter in the care of the 6-year-old son, while she made a hasty oall. After she was gone the boy concluded to play "soldier," and he secured his father's revolver, constructed a fort out of chairs and a table, and then shot at his sister as the supposed enemy. The bullet struck the child square between the eyes, killing her instantly. Elias Campbell of Frankfort, told a friend, who was a Spiritualist, that if the spirits would tell him so and so, he would believe. That night he was invited to a seance. Before he went he borrowed a little eleotrio search lamp, which ho concealed under his coat. When the spirit called for him and began to repeat what he had told his friend that morning Campbell turned on the light,and found that a fellow by the name of Guy Coffin was manipulating one end of the horn. w