Jasper County Democrat, Volume 2, Number 3, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 29 April 1899 — AUNT HANNAH'S SECRET [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

AUNT HANNAH'S SECRET

By H. E. Scott

CHAPTER 11. At s quarter after ten Robert Campbell left the express office with a small canvas bar under one arm containing twelve thousand five hundred dollars in gold, and made bis way towards the residence of the banker, which was an imposing structure standing on the corner of Market and Sixth streets. “Smooth sailing at last,” he thought, as he passed hurriedly down Front street to Market. “I shall leave the residence of my -Hattie a free man, with my note in ray possession, and I trust with Mr. DeRosette's consent to make my sweetheart my bride. Now, this money I could use for. the balance of the five years; but why pay eight hundred a year if it can be avoided? True, there is a way that I might retain it and I think run little risk, but I must be cautious—l have not derve enough to try it. When I get back from Baltimore I will have time to think the matter over. There will be other opportunities, and perhaps better ones.” Thus soliloquizing, the young man hastened on up Market street, and at exactly half after ten the sounding of the door bell announced to the banker his arrival. Mr. Deßosette was seated in the library reading a novel, The bedroom door stood wide open, and so did the door leading from that to the bathrb6fd‘l>eyond. The two windows of the HWftty, as well as those of the chamber, opening out on the lawn on the east side of the house, were raised to admit the slight breeze that was borne westward from the ocean, seven miles away, and yet, so warm was it that the banker had discarded his coat and sat in his shirt sleeves. “Aunt Hannah, the door!” he suddenly exclaimed, as he heard the signal; but noticing that there was no response from the sable Hannah, he muttered: “Dozing, probably,” and passed through the parlors out into the hall and opened the door himself. “Come in! Come in, Robert. lam all alone. I think the servants, even, have gone to bed, as none responded to the bell. I presume Hattie would have remained below if I had informed her I was looking for you, but you know late hours for young people cause dull eyes the next morning, and then I thought that perhaps you would not desire her to be present. Herman entered the house not ten minutes ago. I presume he would have been in the library yet but for the fact Uiat 1 told him you were coming to take up your note, and that there was a private matter about which we were to confer. He looked much annoyed—nay, excited. Do you • know, he had the audacity to ask my daughter's hand to-day?” * By this time the two men had reached the library. “I am not surprised,” said Robert. “I had surmised that he would, and imagined what your answer would be. I know Miss Hattie has no affection for him.” < “Ah, ha, all bestowed on you, I suppose!” The young man’s face flushed. “I think, sir,” he said, “that if I am so fortunate as to gain your consent, I possess a sufficient quantity of her regard to be able,to induce her to become my wife.” “I have not been blind, Robert. I have seen the trend of matters for some time, and I shall be quite content to trust my daughter's happiness to yon. lam satisfied that you love each other. You have proved your ability to take care of a wife, even though adversity frown on you. I give you my consent freely, my boy.” “Oh, thank you, sir. I shall leave for Bultimore with a light heart, and now for the other matter. I must not keep you up later.” “Oh, am for that, it is not yet eleven; but on your own account, if you must leave at four. You will not be gone tong, I trust?” “I shall be home Saturday evening, four days only; and now for the note. .This bag contains the coin, twelve thousand five hundred dollars. You can see the express seal is still intact. Give me credit for such sum as remains above the amount of the note and interest.” “Certainly, my boy, with pleasure, since you ask it; but you might as well have kept it. Hattie, as yon know, is an only child, and the prospect is that between you, you will handle all of Alvin Deßosette’s coin one of these days; that is, all but a small legacy that will go to Herman Craven, to whom a larger one, I think, would prove a curse, and remembrances to servants.” "God grant that the years before you are called away, Mr. Deßosette, may be many,” said the young man, with deep feeling. “Wilmington could ill afford to lose you, and notwithstanding,my love for dear Hattie, there would be a void that could never be filled.” "Well, well, we must all go, my boy; but I will try and remain with you awhile yet, and when I die you must take the .feelm at the bank. I founded that institution, and I desire it to live after me.” Here the banker pulled open a drawer of his d£sk, withdrew therefrom the note, ...ffnA after writing across the face of it the iwords: "Satisfaction received in full, this pighteenth day of August, eighteen banSm aod fifty-seven,” to which he affixed tfealgnatmre, handed it to Robert with , "Keep it as a memento of what you acin two years.” “I will give it to Jennie, to paste in her 'scrap book,” was the reply. see,” said the banker, “that will leave seventeen hundred dollars to be placed to your credit. I might give you k* .“No, no! It is needless!” exclaimed ptbbert. "Merely pass it to my credit to“‘STwas interrupted by a jingling of the

Darkness alone confronted him. “Who is here?” Le asked. Naught but silence. "It is very strange. I surely beard the bell. Let me investigate,” thought the young man, and leaving the door ajar he stepped out on the broad .piazza. „ He hastily passed from one end of the same to the other, but encountered no one. v“I cannot understand It," he exclaimed as he descended the steps to the graveled walk. “What could have been the object? Some one bent on mischief, perhaps." Robert stood for a moment with one foot on the lower step and the other on the walk, listening. Suddenly be heard a sound as of a smothered groan behind him. He hurriedly ran up the steps, pushed open the door, and in a moment's time stood in the library. A cry of horror broke from his Ups. Still seated in his chair was the form of the banker; but his head had dropped over to his left shoulder. His glaring eyes were fixed on vacancy, and a look of horror was on his livid conntenancc. He had sunk lower in the chair. A rivulet of blood was tracing its way down his shirt front, dyeing it red, and the handle of a sheath knife stood there, the keen blade buried in his bosom. “Help! help! There has been murder done! Help! help!” In an instant be had seized with his right hand the bloody haft of the knifc% while with his left he endeavored to restrain the body from sinking to the floor. “Help! help!” He drew the weapon forth, the red blood dyeing his sleeve as be did so. “Uncle Alvin! Uncle Alvin! Ob, tell me! Tell me!” There was a groan, a twitching'df the limbs, a contortion of the features, and a dead man slid from the chair to the bloodsoaked carpet of the library. “Oh, God, what fiend has done this deed?” cried Robert, as he bent over the still form on the carpet. A piercing cry answered him, and Hattie, who had been roused by the cries and hastily descended the stairs, sunk on her knees by the side of her murdered father. At the same instant Herman Craven rushed into the rpom. -A cry of horror broke from his white lips as his eyes fell on the scene before him. • “Merciful God! My uncle murdered! You, Robert Campbell, you standing over his lifeless remains, and with that reeking weapon in your hand? Fiend! Assassin! I see it all! Maddened by his refusal to give you his loved daughter’s band in marriage, you hnve taken his life. Stand back from my loved cousin’s side, or, redhanded as you are, I will attack you. Oh, my loved uncle! It was your death cry that rpused me from my slumbers!” “Herman Craven!” cried Robert, as he straightened to his full height, “has this terrible scene crazed you? You cannot believe the words you have uttered to be true; but rouse the servants and send for help. The assassin must not escape.” _ “Nor shall he, Robert Campbell. You are the murderer here! Little did I dream what my uncle’s cries foretold!" “Mars Alvin! Mars Alvin! Murdered! Murdered! And by you, Mars Robert!” Old Uncle Duke, wl\o had entered the room, walked to the side of his young mistress, who was caressing the dead form of her father. .

“It was I, Herman Craven, who answered the summons of the door bell. I had been here for a half hour; was here by appointment, as you know, to take up my note. I brought with me a bag of coin and received it canceled ere the door bell rang. I— —” “Where is this bag of coin?*' “Why, there upon your uncle’s desk, where I placed it.” “There is no bag of coin there! Villain, you plotted well!” .' »• “No bag of coin there? Robbery has then been added to murder. Your mistress, Hannah, your mistress!” Aunt Hannah stood in the door leading from the library to the banker’s chamber. Her mulatto face was of an ashen hue and she was shaking as with palsy. “Dead! Dead! My own darling papa! Murdered, murdered!” The cries of poor Hattie were frantically resounding through the house. “Poor darling,” said Robert, and as he stooped, the bloody weapon fell from his hand and struck at her side. What wonder that she fainted. Robert was stooping, with a view to raising her to a sofa, that the room contained. “Hands off my cousin, murderer!” cried Herman. But already Robert had her in his Btrong arms, and in a second’s time her white form, ciad only in a wrapper she had hastily donned over her long night robe, had placed her on the sofa, where the quaking Hannah and her daughter Millie, who had Joined them, were soon striving to revive her. Uncle Duke had roused Adam, the carriage driver, whom be had sent for Dr. Norcum, two blocks away, and be now re-entered the room. “Had we not best lay- of your uncle on the bed in his chamber, Herman?" asked Robert. “Murderer, leave him where, he fell beneath your blow until those arrive who will take you in charge. Do not attempt flight—you are too well known. Watch him, Uncle Duke, and you, Hannah and Millie; he is your master’s murderer.” “Impossible!” exclaimed Unde Duke, while Hannah dropped the bowl of water from which she was sprinkling her young mistress’ face, and in very terror ran screaming from the room. '‘"lnfamous wretch!” cried Robert. “You know-your words ar| false. For aught I know yours may have been the hand that wielded this, knife.” , H and raised the weapon “Help! Help!” cried Herman. “You would assasinato me aa you did my nncle.” Ha hashed through the door, and in an infetimf his slippered feet were descendI “Help! Help! Murder! Murderl” re-

; ' -•'.y.aagHKtee'H. - - : , sounded his voice as he sped away in tbs darkness. CHAPTER m. St Hardly had the outer door closed behind Herman Craven when Hattie regained consciousness, and with a long drawn sigh her eyes opened. . “My poor darling," exclaimed Robert, ,#b he placed one band upon her brow. Seemingly in very terror she recoiled, and the cry escaped her Kps; “Oh, God! Murdered! My dear father murdered! Apd—and by the man I loved!” “Oh, Hattie, my darling!” exclaimed Robert. “Yon cannot believe me gnitty of this terrible crime?" The poor girl threw her bands before her eyes as if to shut out some horjrid vision as she sobbed: “You were standing over him, Robert, with the bloody weapon in your hand, when I, followed by Herman, entered the room. How-bow could you have murdered my father, who loved you well? No, no, I will not believe it—and yet Herman accused yon.” “Hattie, dearest, a suspicion of the onr who loves you is unworthy of you. Not five minutes before I found that fatal blade driven to his heart he bad consented willingly to our marriage. I loved your father. Ask yourself If l could have murdered him.”

“No, no, I will not J>elieve It. Forgive me, dear Robert. But the knife? How came it in your band— and blood—blood on your hand and sleeve T’ “I had just withdrawn it from your father's bosom, dear. I called oh him at the bank to-day and made an appointment to see him here to-night after ten o’clock. I brought with me a bag of coin, and had paid a note he held. I have it cancelled in my pocket. Just as I was about to take my leave the door bell rang. Your father, remarking that it was a late hour for callers, requested me to see who was there. I opened the door. Darkness confronted me and nothing more. I walked the length of the piazza and called out, ‘Who is here?’ but received no response. I descended the steps, wondering at the strange occurrence; for a moment stood with one foot on the lower step, the other on the walk. Suddenly I heard a stifled groan emanating from the house. I ran up the steps, hastily entered the library, and my heart stood still at the terrible sight that confronted me. I cried out ‘Help! Murder!’ and withdrew the sheathknife -from your father’s bosom. One gasp, and he slid from the chair to the carpeted floor, a corpse.” “Oh, my father, my father! Then it was not his voice I heard.” “You did not hear the pealing of the door bell, dearest?” “No, Robert. I—l ” “Fly, Mars Robert! Fly! You got no time to tarry here. You’ll hang. Mars Robert, hang, jus’ lik* you’d killed ole master. A nigger can save you. Go, Mars Robert—go! I—l ” It was Aunt Hannah who had re-enter-ed the room, who bad spoken. “Are you crazy, Hannah? The murderer of your master must be brought to justice.” “Ain’t yon see. Mars Robert? The evidence of Mars Herman will condemn .you. The young missie saw yon with the bloody knife in your hand: Mars Herman will swear that your cries were the erfes of my poor ole master. Ely, Mars Robert, while you have tijne. I know you is not the murderer of ole master; but fly!" “Yes, yes, Robert!” said Hattie, quickly. “I feel that you never dreamed of this terrible crime; but Hannah has. told the truth. Oh, my darling, and now—now that I have only you,” and the fair girl twined her arms about him.

“I’oor dear,” said Robert, “you are agitated, and little wonder. Robert Campbell shall be found by yonr sifle, even though he stand in danger of the gallows, and the murderer, the assassin, of yonr father shall meet death on the gallows. Herman Craven may not. be guilty of this'murder, but on my soul I believe he is. He has doubtless gone in search of an officer with the intention of denouncing me.” “No, no,” sobbed Hattie. “My cousin surely would not murder one who has been so kind to him. He could not have committed the crime. Immediately after I heard the voice, which I supposed was my father’s, crying ‘Help, murder!’ Herman knocked on my door and exclaimed: ‘Your father. Miss Hattie; your father!’ He had but just left his room. I had thrown my wrapper on, and together we descended the stairs.”. "The murder had already boon committed, dear, when you heard those cries; but, ah, I have it.” Hastening to the desk of the dead banker, who lay beside it, his wan face upturned, he seized*a pencil and hastily on a slip of paper wrote these words: “Lang Sellars, Detective. “Please come to the residence of Banker Deßosette at once. His dead facd Is now before me. He has been cruelly murdered. Robert Campbell.” (To be continued.)