Decatur Democrat, Volume 47, Number 18, Decatur, Adams County, 9 July 1903 — Page 7

|WHEN KNIGHTHOOD? | WAS IN FLOWER I HL The Love Story of Charles Brandon and Mary Tudor, the King’s Sister and K Kb Rewritten and Rendered Into Modern Englieh From Sir Edwin K Ceuskoden'B Memoir IS By EDWIN CASKODEN [CHARLES MAJOR] $ K Copyright, 18*3 and IXt, try the Bowen-MerriUCompany B*w

* T ■ ..You are surely right. Sir Edwin. I ■ n 0 excuse. 1 can have none, but ■ '•d' tell you how it was. You rethe day you left me in the H“ iu „ room of the king’s council, ■h.n they "’ ! ’ re discussing my marH without one thought of me, as ■ 1 were but a slave or a dumb brute ■ t could not feel?” She began to H a little, but soon recovered herKs '.\Vhlle waiting for you to reRni the Duke of Buckingham came in. ■L, Henry was trying to sell me to He French king, and my heart was Ki| of trouble from more causes than Ku can know. All the council, espeK:<r that butcher’s son, were urging Km'on. and Henry himself was mix■ns that the marriage should be Hw'l't about. He thought Jt would L’tlien him for the imperial crown. K, „. an ts everything and is ambitious Kbe emperor. Emperor! He would Kt a pretty figure! I hoped, though, Hsbould be able to induce him not to Hi'riii''e me to his selfish interests, as j Hiii’.-e done before, but I knew only Ko well it would tax my powers to the ' Htn .'< this time. I knew that if I did Hrtliiug >o anger or to antagonize him ■ would be all at an end with me You Hn.a be is so exacting with other peo ■esconduct for one who is so careless Hlils own so virtuous by proxy. Yon Hmember how cruelly he disgraced Hj eruslmd poor Lady Chesterfield. Hbo was in such trouble about her husH li i aud who went to Grouche’s only if he were true to her. Henry Hems to be particularly sensitive in Hint direction. One would think it H . ;i th.. commandments, 'Thou shalt Ho: go to Grouche’s.’ ■■■Well. I knew I could do nothing Bith Henry if he once learned of that Hsit. especially as it resulted so faL Oh, why did I go? Why did I Bo? That was why I hesitated to tell Booty al on, ' f ' 1 was h °P in R aome othB way would open whereby I might Bite Charles—Master Brandon. While B”'as waiting along came the Duke of Buckingham, and as I knew he was Bopuiar in London and had almost as Huch influence there as the king a Kouirht came to me that he might help B'T knew that he and Master Brandon ■ad passed a few angry words at one K,- in my ballroom—you remember - ■tit 1 also knew that the duke was in - B> kw with me. you know, or pretend■dto be—he always said he was- and 1 Hit sure I could by a little flattery inBote him to do anything. He was al■rays protesting that he would give ■alt his blood to serve me. As if any■>ly want’d a drop of his wretched Miooa. i-oor Master Branaon: ins ■iwi”— and tears came, choking her Kwls for the moment. “So 1 told the Moke I had promised you and Jane to Mrocgi- Master Brandon’s liberty, and

-In this list there are many good properties, offered an h have other properties not listed here for rent, sale or trade. ■ bagerg as goo n as to buyer and seller, and 1 now have a large m the purchase or sale ot rtsttbey want is placed upon the market. It you are ~r oK e rt v write or call & lands, business rooms, resideaces, mill machinery. J town or I t>y number. Ad or one of our recent large discriptive lists. In inquiry refer top I Übk a. -iff- ■£♦"'•*'•l* Phone No 2’o, J. i\

iota on Chestnut street. Linn ?} e ir f b°nrl * * street. Penn street, Madison street and De- black land. «tur street at from 1185 to S2tO each. On N e>l „ An fO acre tract two miles south o. J'tjffid street, Monroe «nd Marshall streets * rjecatiir on stone road, good buildings and 11 from 1450 to SBSO each. black land. $6,400. one-acre tract in northwest Deca- .. gpi-An 80 acre tract, one-half mile west fur. good dwelling, stable, cribs, poultry ‘ n f Salem. Blue Creek township, old build>use, etc. SISOO. ings. productive land, some black soil. $4,150, so-198— A seven acre tract, ioins the north- iiu;—A 102-acre tract one and a half miles ’est corporation line |of Decatur. Good * • .. p eca t U r. no buildings, lb acres of location, on pike road. Price S7OO. good timber. 15 acres of sand and gravel, '»■ 3H acre tract in south Decatur on black and sand loam. JSOW. stoned street. Plenty of good fruit and , 174—Eightv-acre tract in east Wabash rood buildings, price $2,150. tO wnship, about 50 acres black loam* new ’ •0,194—a twenty-acre tract in good location. room house, ten acres of timber. $4townßh ‘P- soar » nd one-half miles tract, in east St. Mary’s tt i^.r r,yall black lttDd ordlD ’ 154 acre tract in west Hoot town- p r i C e $14,500. W one-half mile from school, three- nsapre tract southwest of Berne, W s black land, no buildings. 5775, gazing. farm. )ight. '“■.'9-Thirtv-acre tract two and a half ( c av soil, principally. Price 54600. Biles northwest of Decatur, sand loam ami ' : ,-ni.acre tract, two miles southeast S\„ acres .'f < £ <1 y° un « timber, live-room No.lW are loam, acrea sw house. 51500. of . „ ,\n,bHr some saw timber, small nu«r A “tcre tract tour and one half buildißgs. 56000. ® W northwest of Berne, a quarter of a u‘>_acre tract one and a half miles from stone road and school. Nearly all No..!•• / I( ", atllr principally sand and clav Wtck land, ordinary buildings. 53.4 U). b“Lk land no buildings, two ** acre farm, three miles north- young orchards. 35 acres, young timber, of Decatur. Improvements all new. S7OOO. i« tv. ’tlr grade of soil. Rural mail route. 53400 No.lhd-F.igbtyacres.nearsdoneroadln - tract, southeast of Berne. bash township. 01 lan ■ ' balance clay gw quality Os soil, fair buildings, some buildings, some black lanu. timber. 13650# loam. fT-W. tu£n An . : * > - scre tract, two and one-half No. an’d'«and'loaim no timI‘‘7 ““rthwest of Decatur, clay and sand Decatur, light *>“ «4tx»o. ‘"fi. fair buildings, fruit and timber 54500 ber. small frame buildings. Drouer . acres, two miles southwest of No. 330—For sale orJ desira 'ble city lots Movements, clay and black ty. three wre.llocated and de aore tract southwest of Pleas- No. sale or nade a e TenneMills, black loam, poor buildings. 53600. timber land in tumoerm I* acre tract near the gravel pike. see-fiSO'-’ de an so acre tract in h. '"''Ave mile, northwest of Decatur, good No 14. -For sale frame buildings, ®Provement s , one half black land. SM-000. take countv Mmbigan. ir Sj “' Eor sale, a 108 acre tract of beech and 6O 'J“ ’ 1 a i eO rtrade a general merchantw °and a half miles east ot De- No.-H-For s ale , hi ., vlng Indiana S Prttt°K,^o Sndb ' U “ - • 500wor,h ° t<? ™ e wrn wade fo?60 or 80 acre tarm, stock acre tract of flret class black . or lra <ie for a farm—A large Mill* It 2 ’ tml 3 miles southwest of Pleasant m—For . , Q Decatur# Indiana. from “° ne road - Bman bUlld ‘ KS d 75 barrels of ot^rol*iacretract f° urlniles northeast EJ^unde* 1 ” P ° “rroeon tree mail route, a quarter ot a grou AND CITY PROPERTY, address the SNOW

asked him to do it for me. He gladly consented and gave me bis knightly word that it should be attended to without an hour’s delay. He said it might have to be done secretly in the way of an escape—not offlcially-as the Londoners were very Jealous of their rights and much aroused on account of the killing. Especially, he said, that at that time great caution must be used, as the king was anxious to conciliate the city in order to procure a loan for some purpose—my dower, I suppose. “The duke said it should be as I wished; that Master Brandon should escape and remain away from London tor a rew weeas until tue King procured his loan and then be freed by royal proclamation. "I saw Buckingham the next day, for I was very anxious, you may be sure, and he said the keeper of Newgate had told him it had been arranged the night before as desired. I had come to Windsor because it was more quiet, I and my heart was full. It is quite a I distance from London, and I thought i it might afford a better opportunity to —to see—l thought, perhaps Master Brandon might come—might want to—--1 to—see Jane and me. In fact, I wrote him before I left Greenwich that I should be here. Then I heard he had ' gone to New Spain. Now you see how all my troubles have come upon me at once, and this the greatest of them, because it is my fault. I can ask no forgiveness from any one, for I cannot forgive myself.” She then inquired about Brandon’s health and spirits, and I left out no distressing detail, you may be sure. During my recital she sat with downcast eyes and tear stained face playing with the ribbons of her hat. When I was ready to go, she said. “Please say’ to Master Brandon I should like —to—see—him if be cares to come, if only that I may tell him bow it happened.” “I greatly fear, in fact, I know he will not come,” said I. “The cruelest blow of all. worse even than the dungeon or the sentence of death, was your failure to save him. He trusted you so implicitly. At the time of his arrest he refused to allow me to tell the king, saying he knew you would see to it—that you were pure gold.” “Ah, did he say that?" she asked, as a sad little smile lighted her face. “His faith was so entirely without doubt that his recoil from you Is corrcsnondfnslv great. Ho c-oes to Now Spain as soon as his health is recovered sufficiently for him to travel.” This sent the last fleck of color from her face, and with the words almost choking her throat, “Then tell him what I have said to you and perhaps he will not feel so”— “I cannot do that either, Lady Mary. I When I mentioned your name the other

nay, he said he would curse me if I ever spoke it again in his hearing.” Is it so bad as that?" Then, meditatively: “And at his trial he did not tell the reason for the killing? Would not compromise me, who had served him so ill, even to save his own life? Noble, noble!” And her lips went together as she rose to her feet. No tears now; nothing but glowing, determined womanhood. "Then I will go to hlin wherever he may be. He shall forgive me, no matter what my fault.” Soon after this we were on our wav to London ata brisk gallop. We were all very silent, but at one time Mary spoke up from the midst of a reverie: “During the moment when I thought Master Brandon had been executed when you said it was too late—st seemed that I was born again and all made over; that I was changed in the very texture of my’ nature by the shock, as they’ say the grain of the iron cannon is sometimes changed by too violent an explosion.” And this proved to be true in some respects. We rode on rapidly and did not stop in London except to give the horses drink. After crossing the bridge Mary said, half to Jane and half to herself, “I will never marry the French king—never.” Mary was but a girl pitted against a body of brutal men, two of them rulers of the two greatest nations on earth—rather heavy odds for one woman. We rode down to Greenwich and entered the palace without exciting comment, as the princess was in the habit of coining and going at will. The kins and queen and most of the courtiers were in London at Bridewell House and Baynard’s castle, where Henry was vigorously pushing the loan of 500,000 crowns for Mary’s dower, the only business of state in which at that time he took any active interest. Subsequently, as you know, he became interested in the divorce laws and the various methods whereby a man, especially a king, might rid himself of a distasteful wife, and after he saw the truth in Anne Boleyn’s eyes he adopted a combined policy of church and state craft that has brought us a deal of senseless trouble ever since and is like to keep it up; As to Mary’s dower, Henry was to pay Louis only 400,000 crowns, but he made the marriage an excuse for an extra 100,000 to be devoted to his own private use. Whefl we arrived at the palace tne girls went to their apartments and I to mine, where I found Brandon reading. There was only one window to our common room—a dormer window set into the roof and reached by a little passage as broad as the window itself and perhaps a yard and a half long. In the alcove thus formed was a bench along the wall, cushioned by Brandon’s great campaign cloak. In this window we often sat and read, and here was Brandon with his book. I had intended to tell him the girls were coming, for when Mary asked me if I thought he would come to her at the palace, and when I had again said no. she reiterated her intention of going to him at once; but my courage failed me and I did not speak of it. I knew that Mary ought not to come to our room, and that if news of it should reach the king's ears there would be more and worse trouble than ever, and as usual Brandon would pay the penalty for all. Then again, if it were discovered it might seriously compromise both Mary and Jane, as the w’orld is full of people who would rather say and believe an evil thing of another than to say their prayers or to believe the holy creed. I had said as much to the Lady Mary when she expressed her determination io’DCaiiubii. SSe iiad Deen in the wrong so much of late that she was humbled, and I was brave enough to say whatever I felt, but she said she had thought it all over, and as every one was away from Greenwich it would not be found out if done secretly. She told Jane she need not go; that she, Mary, did not want to take any risk of compromising her. Jane would have gone, though, had she known that all her fair name would go with her. She was right, you see, when she told me while riding over to Windsor '.ove-OtifiF' som into a. full blown passion she would wreck everything and everybody, including herself perhaps, to attain the object of so great a desire. It looked now as if she were on the highroad to that end. Nothing short of chains and fetters could have kept her from going to Brandon that evening. There was an inherent force about her that was irresistible and swept everything before it. In our garret she was to meet another will, stronger and infinitely better controlled than her own, and I did not know how it would all turn out. CHAPTER XII. ATONEMENT. not been long in the room when a knock at the door announced the girls. I admitted them, and Mary walked to the middle of the floor. It was Just growing dark, and the room was quite dim, save at the window where Brandon sat reading. Gods, those were exciting moments! My heart beat like a woman’s. Brandon saw the girls when they entered, but never so much as looked up from his book. You must remember he had a great grievance. Jane and I had remained near the door, and poor Mary was a pitiable princess, standing there so full of doubt in the middle of the room. After a moment she stepped toward the window and. with quick coming breath, stopped at the threshold of the little passage. "Master Brandon, I have cdtfie, not to make excuses, for nothing can excuse me, but to tell you how it all happened —by trusting to another.” @ Brandon arose and, marking the place in bis book with his finger, fol-'-'wed Marv. who had steened back-

ward Into the room. “Your highness is very gracious and kind thus to honor mo, but as our ways will hereafter lie as far apart as the world Is broad. I think it would have been far better had you refrained from so imprudent a visit, especially as anything one so exalted as yourself may’ have to say can be no affair of such as I—one just free of the hangman’s noose.” “Oh, don’t. I pray you! Let me tell you. and it may make a difference. It must pain you. 1 know, to think of me as you do. after—after—you know; after what has passed between us,” “Yes. tl • only makes it all the harder. If you could give your kisses”—and she blushed red as blood—“to one for whom you care so little that you could

J/ i '\

“Ecu are too late." leave him to die like a dog. when a word from you would have saved him, what reason have I to suppose they are not for every man?” This gave Mary an opening of which she was quick enough to take advantage, for Brandon was in the wrong. “You know that is not true. You are nut honest with me nor with yourself, ami that is not like you. You know that no other man ever had, or could have, any favor from me, even the slightest. Wantonness is not among my thousand faults. It is not that which angers you. You are sure enough of me in that respect. In truth, I had almost come to believe you were too sure, that I had grown cheap in your eyes, and you did not care so much as I thought and hoped for what I had to give, for after that day you came not near me at all. I know it was the part of wisdom and prudence that you should remain away, but had you cared as much as I your prudence would not have held von ” She nung ner head a moment In silence, then, looking at him, almost ready for tears, continued: “A man has no right to speak in that way of a woman whose little favors he has taken, and make her regret that she has given a gift only that it may recoil upon her. ‘Little,’ did I say? Sir, do you know what that—first—kiss was to me? Had I possessed all the crowns of all the earth I would have given them to you as willingly. Now you know the value I placed on it, however worthless it was to you. Yet I was a cheerful giver of that gift, was I not? And can you find it in your heart to make of it a shame to me—that of which I was so proud?” She stood there, with head Inclined a little to one side, looking at him inquiringly as if awaiting an answer. He did not speak, but looked steadily at his book. I felt, however, that he was changing, and I was sure her beauty, never more exquisite than in its present humility, would yet atone for even so great a fault as hers. Err, look beautiful and receive remission! Such a woman as Mary carries her indulgence in her face. I now began to realize for the first time the wondrous power of this girl, and ceased to marvel that she had always been able to turn even the king, the most violent, stubborn man on earth, to her own wishes. Her manner made her words eloquent, and already, i with true feminine tactics, she had put | Brandon in the was’wrong in part, Then she quickly w’ent over what she had said to me. She told of her great dread lest the king should learn of the visit to Grouche’s and its fatal consequences, knowing full well it would render Henry impervious to her influence and precipitate the French marriage. She told him of how she was going to the king the day after the arrest to ask his release, and of the meeting with Buckingham, and his promise. Still Brandon said nothing and stood as if politely waiting for her to withdraw. She remained silent a little time, waiting for him to speak, when tears, partly of vexation, I think, moistened her eyes. “Tell me at least,” she said, “that you know I speak the truth. I have always believed in you, and now I ask for your faith. I would not lie to you in the faintest shading of a thought—not for heaven itself—not even for your Jove and forgiveness, much as they are to me, and I want to know that you are sure of my truthfulness, if you doubt all else. You see I speak plainly of what your love is to me, for although by remaining away you made me fear I had been too lavish with my favors—that is every woman’s fear—l knew in my heart you loved me; that you could not have done and said what you did otherwise. Now you see what faith I have in you, and you a man. whom a woman’s instinct prompts to doubt. How does it compare with your faith in me. a woman, whom all the instincts of a manly nature should dispose to trust? It seems to be an unwritten law that a man may lie to a . woman concerning the most important , thing in life to her and be proud of it. : but you see even now I have all faith ,

D. D. D. SPECIAL OFFER REGARDING diseases of the skin. We have lately secured the agency for this city and vicinity of a preparation which is reliable and certain in clearing away troubles of the skin. Many forms of skin affections which have been considered incurable are conquered by this medicament as easily as a cough is stopped by the proper soothing and healing influences. This preparation is now in use among skit, specialists, and many large hospitals have adopted it for eczema and kindred cases. It stands among the most useful medical agents now known. We have evidence of its work to show which will interest any sufferer. Call and investigate same. Since we have been handling the remedy—known as D. D. D.—its work proves so effective we guarantee its efficacy, in all cases of skin affection we will refund the price of a bottle (Si) if the sufferer does not consider it literally a Godsend after trying. It is curing the worst kind of cases every day. It seems a pity any one should suffer the torture of skin troubles when so dependable a curative agent can be had so cheaply SMITH, YAGER & FALK, DECATUR

in your love for me, else I surely should not be here. You see I trust even your unspoken word, when it might, without much blame to you, be a spoken lie; yet you do not trust me, who have no world-given right to speak falsely about such things, and when that which I now do is full of shame for me, and what I have done full of guilt, if inspired by aught but the purest truth from my heart of hearts. Your words mean so much —so much more. I think, than vou realize—and are so cruel in turning to evil the highest, purest impulse a woman can feel—the glowing pride in self surrender and the sweet, delightful privilege of giving where she loves. How can you ? How can you?” How eloquent she was! It seemed to me this would have melted the frozen sea, but I think Brandon felt that now his only hope lay in the safeguard of bis constantly upheld indignation. When be spoke he ignored all she had said. “Y’ou did well to employ my Lord of Buckingham. It will make matters more interesting when I tell you it was he who attacked you and was caught by the leg under his wounded horse; be was lame, I am told, for some time afterward. I had watched him following you from the gate at Bridew’ell and at once recognized him when his mark fell off during the fight by the wall. You have done well at every step, I see.” “Oh, God; to think of it! Had I but known! Buckingham shall pay for this with his head; but how could I know? I was but a poor, distracted girl, sure to make some fatal error. I was in such agony—your wounds—believe me, I suffered more from them than you j could. Every pain you felt was a pang for me—and then that awful marriage! I was being sold like a wretched slave w that old satyr, to be gloated over and feasted upon. No man can know’ the horror of that thought to a woman —to any woman, good or bad. To have one’s beauty turn to curse her and make her desirable only—only as w’ell fed cattle are prized. No matter how great the manifestation of such so called love. It all the more repels a woman and adds to her loathing day by day. Then there was something worse than all”—she was almost weeping now’ —“I might have been able to bear the thought even of that hideous marriage—others have lived through the like —but—but after—that—that day—when you—it seemed that your touch was a spark dropped into a heart full of tiuder, which had been lying there aw’aitlng it all these years. In that one moment the flame grew so intense I could not withstand it. My throat ached; I could scarcely breathe, and it seemed that my heart would burst” Here the tears gushed forth as she took a step tow’ard him with outstretched arms and said between sobs: ‘I W’anted you, you, for my husband—„Va husband, and I could not bear the torturing thought of ios'u.g y«u or enduring any other man. I could not give you up after that—it was all too late, too late; It had gone too far. I was lost, lost!” He sprang to where she stood leaning toward him and caught her to his breast. She held him from her while she said: “Now you know—now you know that I would not have left you in that terrible place had I knowu it. No. not if it had taken my life to buy your freedom.” “I do know; I do know. Be sure of that. I know’ it and shall know it always, whatever happens; nothing can change me. I will never doubt you again. It is my turn to ask forgiveness now.” “No. no. Just forgive me. That is all I ask.” And her head was on his breast “Let us step out into the passageway, Edwin,” said Jane, and we did. There were times when Jane seemed to be insnircwl < When we went back into the room, Mary and Brandon were sitting in the window-way on his great cloak. They rose and came to us, bolding each other’s hands, and Mary asked, looking up to him: “Shall we tell them?” “As you like, my lady.” Mary was willing, and looked for Brandon to speak, so he said, “This lady whom I hold by the hand and myself have promised each other before the good God to be husband and wife if fortune ever so favor us that it be possible.” “No; that is not it,” interrupted Mary. “There is no ‘iff in it. It shall be whether it is possible or not. Nothing shall prevent.” At this she kissed Jane and told her how she loved her, and aova uw her bond, for her Invo taraa ar*

great within her that it overflowed upon every one. She, however, always bad a plenitude of love for Jane. and. though she might scold her and apparently misuse her. Jane was as dear as a sister and was always sure of her steadfast, tried and lasting affection. After Mary had said there should be no “if” Brandon replied: “Very well, Mme. Destiny.” Then, turning to us, “What ought I to do for one who is willing to stoop from so high an estate to honor me and be my wife?” “Love her and her alone with your whole heart as long as you live. That is all she w’ants, I am sure,” volunteered Jane sentimentally. “Jane, you are a Mme. Solomon,” said Mary, with a tone of her old time laugh. “Is the course you advise as you I nSWo ■ 1 “Now you know"— would wish to be done by?” And she glanced mischievously from Jane to me as the laugh bubbled up from her heart, merry and soft, as if it bad not come from what was but now the home of grief and pain. “I know nothing about how I should like to be done by.” said Jane, with a pout, “but if you have such respect for _ my wisdom I will otter a little* morm i * think it is time we should be going.” “Now. Jane, you are growing foolish again; I will not go yet.” and Mary made manifest her intention by sitting down. She could not bring herself to forego the pleasure of staying, dangerous as she knew it to be, and could not bear the pain of parting, even for a short time, now that she had Brandon once more. The time was soon coming —but I am too fast again. After a time Brandon said: “I think Jane’s wisdom remains with her. Mary. It is better that you do not stay, much ns I wish-'ttrT.a. e you.” SUe was ready to obey him at once. When she arose to go she took both his hands in hers and whispered: “ ‘Mary.’ I like the name on your lips,” and then, glancing hurriedly over her shoulder to see if Jane and I were looking, lifted her face to him and ran after us. We were a little in advance of the princess, and as we walked along Jane said under her breath: “Now look out for trouble; it wjll come quickly, and I fear for Master Brandon more than any one. He has made a noble fight against her and against himself, and it is no wonder she loves him.” This made me feel a little Jealous. “Jane, you could not love him, could you?" I asked. “No matter what I could do, Edwin; I do not. and that should satisfy you.” Her voice and manner said more than her words. The hall was almost dark, and—l have always considered that occasion one of my lost opportunities, but they are not many. The next evening Brandon and I, upon Lady Mary’s invitation, went up to her apartments, but did not stay long, fearing some one might find us there ’mid cause trouble. We would not have gone at all had not the whole court been absent in London, for discovery would have been a serious matter to one of us at least. [TO be continued.] A Cold Fact. The Cannibal King (his teeth chattering)—What was it you served with the last meal? I’ve had a prolonged chill ever since. Royal Cook—That. sire, was a female missionary from Boston.—Smart Set.