Democratic Sentinel, Volume 1, Number 50, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 25 January 1878 — THE SHADOW OF FATE. [ARTICLE]

THE SHADOW OF FATE.

BY JUDGE JARVIS.

A rider tu threading bit way orer » road which lay along the hills at the base of the Btae Ridge mountains, in the region known as the Piedmont of Virginia, about the sources of the Rappahannock river. « * * * * • She man himself might be described in the same language, as far as it would apply. Beyond this bis age was about 23, bis hair brown and full in lock, his eye of a grayish blue. ****** His way quickly brought the traveler to a stream now running over its banks. Slipping easily from his saddle, he tightened the girths, slackened the crupper, and, gently patting his animal, addressed a few affectionate words to him. Remounting, he fixed himself firmly in the saddle, gathered his bridle in a manner to impart to his companion bis own energy and determination, and moved into the creek. Turning up the stream, he proceeded for about a hundred yards along the bank, and then struck boldly across in a direct line, with the horse's head slanted up current. The depth of the water did not sensibly increase in the course of eighty yards, and the stranger was congratulating himself upon the probability of getting over without a wetting, when the animal in two steps increased the depth until he could uo longer hold his footing, and sprung boldly into the middle of a deep, rushing channel. In an instant the rider had seized the mane of the horse in his left hand, and slipped smoothly out of the saddle to the lower side, where he floated along. Man and beast battled bravely with the flood for a moment, when the former was startled to feel the horse flinch and turn with a terrified snort down the current. A quick jerk upon the loft rein served to procure but an instant’s pause jn the precipitate course of the beast, but m that instant the stranger became aware of another presence by the touch of a clammy object against his hand. Raising his head above the neck of the charger, he saw dimly outlined upon the waving and shimmering surface a dark and undefinable object. The next moment the desperate plunges of the beast had obstructed his vision, when, with the self-command of one accustomed and nerved to the hardship of athletic sports and a soldier’s danger, he swung his leg over the back of his animal and gathered himself into his saddle. Reaching out a hand, he was about to seize the object of his horror, when it exposed the ghastly features of a woman. For an instant only he hesitated; then, recovering from the thrill, he grasped the head firmly by the loose, flowing, tangled mass of raven tresses, and raised it above the water upon the pommel of his saddle. Turning his head again up stream, he renewed the combat with the tide. Twice it seemed as though man, woman, and beast must all succumb,- and twice the noble struggles of the animal cheated the turgid grave of its victims. Finally, the hoofs once more crunched the firm bottom of the stroam, and ten paces brought the party safely to the shore. • * * * * * *

Feeling the forehead, he found it cold ; the hands were also chilled, but he thought he felt a slight flutter of the pulse. Tearing open the dress, he pressed his hand against the heart and found it still warm. His efforts to. resuscitate her were soon rewarded, and, after a few moments, the woman made an attempt to speak, which resulted, however, only in a moauing cry. At this point he began to look for other assistance, when he observed a light upon the hill above the creek. Once more raising the body to the pommel of his saddle and mounting behind it, he sought the road. One stepped around to receive the woman, and another entered the house to procure the stimulant. * ‘ What’s this ?” said the one who was assisting the traveler in dismounting the woman. “Send for the nearest physician at once.” They lifted the -motionless, but reviving, form into the house, and deposited it upon a sofa. The stimulant was soon brought, and, upon a small portion of it being administered, the woman indicated an increased vitality by a broken gurgle. This, after a while, gave way to clearer articulation, in which, however, only syllables were emitted. These were in turn succeeded by one or two sharp cries of pain, which gradually subsided into a moaning chatter of wailing, incoherent sentences. At this point the stranger, in raising his hand to her head to brush the tangled hair from her brow, noticed a clot of blood upon the wet skin of his finger; rubbing it off, he found no trace of a wound. “She must be bleeding!” he ejaculated; “see if there is a cut anywhere.” An examination soon revealed a ghastly wound, an ugly, gaping abrasion upon the left side of the head, above the ear, and j ust behmd the temple. The locks were matted over it, and the blood still oozed slowly from its mouth.

Pending the arrival of a doctor, the s : ranger clipped the hair from around the wound, and, after bathing it with feminine tenderness, he gave the patient over to the charge of the ladies of the house who were in attendance. ******* “I presume you are the host, sir,” said he, at once, addressing the elder of the two. “If you will be liind enough to let me htive a bed, until I can rest for an hour or so and dry my clothing, I shall resume my journey under great obligation to you. Matters of importance urge me to lose no time, and I shall only delay until my horse can recruit for the balance of my ride. Iu fact, but for the incident of finding the unfortunate lady in the creek, I should have continued on the road without consulting my comfort so far.” “ Will you tell mo how you happened upon the adventure, and how you account for the lady’s wouud and present condition ?” The traveler gave a brief account of the events, without, however, throwing any light upon his own identity or business. “May I ask your'name, sir?” inquired the host, whom we will introduce to the reader as Mr. Thornton, or Squire Thornton, as he was dubbed by his neighbors iu honor of his being a Justice of the Peace. ******* “ I beg pardon for the misconstruction. My name is Gaspard Durer, a short while since a soldier in the French service. Do you see anything in my appearance or anything else about this case which justifies you in interrogating me officially ?” , “ Until one who is found with a body that has been murdered or dangerously assaulted has accounted satisfactorily for his presence there, there is a legal suspicion fixed upon him.”

“If I must be detained to satisfy the law, I yield to the annoyance with as little impatience as possible, where the officer of the law exercises his duties so courteously.” After a few more remarks were passed, the Squiro bade his son Eddie conduct the gentleman to his room and see him well provided for the night. After the traveler had left, the vagrant still lingered. Shifting his hat restlessly but mechanically, he seemed to resume a conversation which had probably been interrupted by the stranger’s exit from the stable. “ ’Pears to me now”—an expression which indicated the result of some mighty reflection for his caliber—“ ’Poars to me he ain’t tellin’ the truth. He ain’t named Gasper Deray, because he’d a said so fust. ’Pears to me he looks like old Raoul Dupuy, and Gaston afore him ; and, if I ain’t mistaken, he’s been in these parts afore.” “Who’s the woman, Randy?” “I have been lookin’ at her, but ’pears to me I never seen her' afore—leastways she don’t come from about here.” “ The resembance of Durer to the Dupuys is striking, and I thought at first he was the son of Gaston, who has been absent so long. What think you, my son?” “Can’t say, father, but his resemblance to Mr. Dupuy at the manor would be noticed by anyone.” “Perhaps,” suggested the vagrant, “he’s a son of Dupuy himself; if half they bring from furrin parts about him is o’rect, ’pears to me he must have mor’n one. “ And your .friend Raoul ain’t too good for a fraud or lie,” chirped the vagrant. “We will dispense with your comments on the characters of my friends,” retorted the Bquire. “No offense, Squire, but ’spense or no ’spense, I knows the laws, and I allers take care to have proof afore I says a libel on any man.” “ What do you know of Raoul Dupuy, villain, that you dare maintain such a thing concerning his character, which is polluted by your mention of it?” “Nevermind what I know, Squire, so long as 1 ain’t said it,” answered the tramp. ••*« « • • t “What is your opinion, doctor?” asked the Squire. “It is rather early to ask an opinion about the patient, Squire. The skull is fractured, and it may be necessary to trepan it, if any portion is bearing on the brain.” “Do you think the blow will permanently affect her brain, or that she will be sound in mind should she recover?” “If the pressure of the bone upon the brain be removed, she will doubtless recover her senses. But, until she is completed well again, and even after, no risk must be taken in the case. Absenee of excitement or noise is indispensable, as the slightest mental shock might make her a raving maniac. Blows upon that region of the head have been known to deprive persons of the power of speech, and, if she is not kept perfectly quiet, she may recover only to linger out a dumb existence.” . * * * * * * * After breakfast a servant, whqm the Squire had dispatched across the creek upon his first

arming, returned with the information that Ur. Taylor—the gentleman whom the stranger had left at bis gate on the road—would be over immediately after breakfast. Upon the arrival of Ur. Taylor, he and the Squire retired for a consultation, to which they after a while called Randy, the vagrant. They then returned to the traveler, and after hearing his account once more, and comparing the time of his leaving Mr. Taylor with that of his arrival at the Squire’s, they proceeded to toe creek in company. Upon their arrival toe squire addressed toe traveler: “I have taken counsel with Mr. Taylor touching this case, which seems a deep mystery, after all the information we have been so far able to gather; the lady seems unknown even to Bandy, who visits every house in this and the adjoining counties, and von are equally a stranger to ns. I consider, however, that yon have been folly discharged from any connection with the affair. We must first attempt to gather something from the lady herself.” At this point the doctor came out of the sickroom. He stated that toe lady had greatly improved during the night, and that the wound was, in all probability, not seiions; the lady had even recovered, in a measure, the control of her mental faculties and language, though she was not fully conscious or coherent as yet. • • • * * • • * The Squire, Mr. Taylor, the traveler, and the doctor together proceeded to the bedside of the unfortunate woman, the stranger—being assured of his release by the words of the Squire —first ordering a servant to bring his horse to the door before leaving the piazza. Upon reaching the bed the woman opened her eyes, and, seeing the kind, manly faces of the Squire and Mr. Taylor, she faintly smiled, and ran her eyes over the rest of the group. She passed the doctor without any variance of expression, and then rested them upon toe face of the stranger. The eyes became set in a horrible stare, the light forsook them, the pupils dilated; she raised herself to a sitting posture by a convulsive movement of the arms; then, crouching to her knees and throwing herself wildly down upon her face, she shrieked out, with a curdling moan: “Oh, oh, Dupuy! don’t, don’t!” and consciousness once more left her. Despite his self-command, the traveler paled. He at once retired with the gentlemen, however, to the piazza, and the doctor moved to assist his patient. In a short while he, too, joined the party upon the piazza. Nothing had passed between the group until the doctor broke a painful constraint which had fallen upon all. “Gentlemen,” said he, “the worst mishap that could befall this unfortunate lady has just occurred through her having seen this gentleman, Mr. Durer. She is a raving maniac. She may die, she may recover, after a lingering illness ; but, in any event, she will be fortunate if she ever recovers her reason. Darkness has settled upon her brain for a long night, which mav never be followed by the dawn.” “To what, doctor,” asked the Squire, “do you attribute her shock ? “She was evidently stricken with horror at the sight of Mr. Durer, whom, from my knowledge of the laws of the human brain, she has in some way associated with the violence which has been dene her, to her great terror.” There was a pause, a painful lull. Then the Squire spoke to Durer. “The case, sir, has taken a new turn. Yon will not be surprised that I conclude it my duty to commit you, to await further developments in the matter.” * * « *• # * * Upon the last syllable he strode from the piazza, booted and spurred, his steps clanging _an echo to his voice. One spring and he has vaulted into hia saddle ; he brushes away the servant who holds his bit with imperial disdain, and turns his horse at the gate. The animal clears it with the activity and fire of his master, gathers himself on the other side, and before the Squire can recover from the stupor of amazement, is off like the wind. The above is a synopsis of “The Shadow of Fate,” by Judge Jarvis, a wonderfully dramatic and powerful novel, which began in No. 6GO of Frank Leslie’s Chimney Corner, now for sale at all news depots. It is a story of adventure and devotion, of an interest beyond that of any novel published for years. With No. 6GO of Frank Leslie’s Chimney Corner is presented an exquisite steel engraving, “Love’s Young Dream;” with No. 661, “Dresßed for Baptism,” a picture appealing to every family; with No. 6G2, “Nina.” These three engravings cannot be purchased in the print stores under Fifteen Dollars. The price of the Chimney Corner is 10 cents weekly, or $4 per annum. Any on 3 wishing to enjoy the excellent stories, instructive and entertaining matter in this popular paper can receive it for three months, free of postage, by remitting One DdLr.AU to Frank Leslie, 537 Pearl street, New YorK. Try it, and commence with No. 660, thus securing these three exquisite ensrra.vin<rs.