Jasper County Democrat, Volume 2, Number 6, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 20 May 1899 — AUNT HANNAH'S SECRET. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

AUNT HANNAH'S SECRET.

By H. E. Scott.

CHAPTER V. ? •Who has the key to the attic of the < Bouse?” asked the detective, when they | Bad descended from the piazza. M Mias Hattie, master; she asked me for | B yesterday morning.” f “Is there more than one?” j “No, master, only de one.” J “Come 'round here on the east side of tie bouse. Is that you, Calban?” s “Tea, Mars Lang, It’s Calban.” J . “No one hns left the house, save those Kyaa know?” “No, Mars Lang. fc “Now, Hannah, who murdered your fe master Y' | “1 don't know that, Mars Lang.” B “You do know who rang the door bell; f Bat do you mean when Robert Campbell ' MMmded it?” B “No, Mars Lang. no. I diden know Mars . Robert was in de house till after I heard B de bell; but he must have been, for it was ; he that went to de door, and not five min- | atea after, when I went to de door of de | ibrary, dar he stood, with de bloody knife I lb his hand, and Mnrs Herman 'ctising * him of murderin’ master.” “Was that the first you knew of his being is the house?” “Wait, Mars Lang. I had been dozin' in de kitchen. Millie had gone upstairs to bed, and when 1 wake up I thought I’d nee if ole master had gone to bed, and put •nt de lights in de hall. You see, I knowad, unc’ Duke had gone to bed, so I passed through the dining room and out into the hall. Somehow. I happen to look up. I apose I was lookin’ at de hangin' lamp; bat I sees] someone standin' on de stairs, about five steps down. Da bad on a long white night gown. At first, I thought it was Miss Hattie; but then I seed it was too tall and big for her, and de hair on be head was too black and short. I was jest about to speak when de person on de stairs bent ober, sideways like, and reached out one arm, and wid de hand seized hole of de wire dot leads to de bell at de tower end of de hall and pulled it. He pulled it several times, and as he was bent ©tier, I saw his face.” “It was the face of Herman Craven?” “Yea, Mars Lang, and he was as white as death. I dlden kuow what to do. A tremblin’ seized me, and I was that skeered I Ink to fell down. Suddenly, I heard ole master's voice, and someone started for de door from de library. I thought it was ole master. Mars Herman had dodged back upstairs, and I ran through de dining room and into de kitchen.” “Then you did not see Herman Craveit descend the stairs?” “No, Mars Lang. Mars Herman was in bis night shirt, and be ran back after he had pulled de bell wire.” “Did he see you, Hannah?” “I can’t be certain; but I don't think he did, Mars Lang.” “If he did, your life may be in peril, not that he would fear your testimony, but that you might give me information. You must be on your guard, and watch him closely. You must never be alone—never , leave the house by yourself. He must have committed this murder.” "How could he, Mrs. Lang? I haden been back in de kitchen no time when I beard a groan. I ran back to de dinin’ mm door, and was standin’ there tremblin’. when Mars Robert pushed open de front door and run in. He was bareheaded, and I dodged back, as he entered de library door. The next thing 1 heard bin cry: ‘Help! Murder!’ then I hear Mars Merman knock on Miss Hattie’s door and •all her, and saw them come down stairs together.” “Robert Campbell, you say. pushed open the front door and ran in? It must have been unfastened, then.” “The door was standin’ ajar, Mars taag, lak he left it, when he went out to nee who was dar.” “Then you do not think Herman de•croded the stairs after you saw him pulling the wire, until after the murder bad been committed?” “No, Mars Lang, he hadn’t time.” “Do you know when Herman entered •be bouse to-night?” “No, but I know he was in de library, •nd 1 was in de dinin' room, when he passed through de hall and went up to bed.” “Hew long was this before he pulled the wire?” “Oh, a long time, Mars Lang, before I was dozin'—perhaps an hour.” “Did you hear loud voices, as though goar master and Herman were quarreling to-night ?” “No, Mnrs Lang. Ole master nebber quarrel. He say what he mean, but he ■ebberquarrel, and I heard no loud Voices •util T heard Mars Robert’s cries of •Help! Murder!’ ” For a moment the detective stood there to the darkness, in thoughtful silence. Suddenly he said: “You know, Hannah, that it would not have taken Herman Craven long to run down the stairs, strike •hat blow and dash up them again.” “I know that, master; but he couldn’t -Barre done it. If he had already been down stairs when de bell sounded, and hid to master's room, or in de library, he might huve had time after Mars Robert west to de door to have killed ole master ■jkd dashed up de stairs before I heard tout groan and got back to de dining room dtor. He didn’t run Up after that.” |fi*Yoa forget,” said Sellars, “that if he is •he morderer of your master he was down Mairs at the time you heard that groan.” “He couldn't have been. Mars Lang. Wars Herman is not the murderer of ole “Why did he puli the wire and sound (NtebeU? He must have known that Rob|;tot was in the house, and it must huve Mm« tor the purpose of calling him to the “MKher he or old master, Mars Lang. MWamiurt have thought I had gone to bed.” “Yes. either Campbell or your master. You say that when you finally advanced to rtr library door Robert was standing knife in his hand?” *'*Yte» «SB right over ole maker's body. «S tfestlgh be bad just pulled the blade ' •mm his breast. There was blood ou his .*hml and sleeve, and horror on his face. Mtara Herrnaa deneaaced him as master s

murderer, but Mars Robert did not kill ole master. He was not in the house when that blade was driven to his heart and I heard that cry,” “Did you see anything of a bag of coin when you entered the library, Hannah?” "Nothing, Mars Lang." “Has Herman any personal friends, whom he sometimes brings to the house? Young men, probably." “No, Mars Lang; none have ever accompanied him here.” "Do you think your master had a high regard for his nephew?” “He take him in when he come to him, Mars Lang, because he was his sister's son: but ole master had no use for his father, who led Miss Mattie a sorry life, and broke her heart before she died. I don’t think he had much use for his son." “You don’t think he w’ould have given him his daughter’s hand in marriage?" “Never! He know Miss Hattie love Mars Robert, and I often hear him praise Mars Robert up.” "Well, that is all to-night, Hannah. Not a word, you understand, to anyone of our conversation. If Herman speaks to you, do not seem to doubt the guilt of Robert Campbell. To your mistress, say that I will see her to-morrow. Tell her further, that if she has suspicions, to keep them to herself. I do not think she believes Herman guilty; but she must not seem suspicious of him. She must try and act as though she believed the right party had been apprehended, Tell her that Robert Campbell, though in custody, is under the protecting care of Lang Sellars. Now can you return to the house without your absence having been noted by Herman?” "Easily, Mars Lang.” “Then do so, and watch closely. Do not sleep alone. Your young mistress will have many lady friends here in her trouble. Keep Millie as near you as you can. Good-night.” “Good-night, Mars Lang,” said the negress, and she had started along the side of the house for the rear entrance when the detective called her back. “Are Adam, the coachman, and Herman on friendly terms?” he asked. “Adam rather see the devil than Mars. Herman,” said the negress. “Mars Herman ’spect more of ole master's niggers than be do hisself.” “I understand,” said Sellars. "That is all,” and as the negress again started off he joined Calban. “You can go home now, Calban,” he said. "It must be 3 o'clock in the morning.” “I 'spec it is, Mars Lang,” said the negro, as he made off in the darkness. “Another mystery to unravel,” muttered the detective, as he passed out the gate. “Herman Craven's hand must have guided the keen blade of that sheath knife, notwithstanding the fact that Hannah states that it could not have been he. Not a drop of blood on his spotless garments. Not a stain on his white bands, but a damnable one on his guilty conscience. Whether or not he struck the blow, his was the head that planned the murder. He pulled the wire and sounded the bell that for a moment left the coast clear. Campbell was the one man he wished removed from his path. But the bag of coin? Clearly he had a confederate, and that confederate struck the blow and escaped with the coin. Why, Herman had no knowledge of the fact that Campbell was to be there with the coin to pay that note to-night—l mean last night, now—until after he had entered the house and the banker had informed him in the library—and then he did not know that he would bear with him a bag of coin. Not a living soul witnessed that blow, save the one who struck it—not even Herman Craven —unless, perchance, he struck the blow. Hannah alone saw bis blanched face when he pulled that wire, and her oath Would not be admissible in a court of justice. Lang Sellars, you have solved some intricate cases. Solve this, and bring the murderer or murderers of Banker DeRosette to justice. Humph! Not a doubt of it!” the detective exclaimed aloud. "Why,” he thought, “I can place my hand, any minute, on the formulator of this tragedy. Now for the evidence that will condemn him. Now for the unknown accomplice—if be had one—and the bag of coin. I wonder,” he thought, suddenly coming to a full halt, "if I have his full motive. Was this murder planned after he had arrived at the house last night, and was his sole object to get possession of that money? If so, he had a confederate, sure. He might have abstracted a much larger sum from the bank. Ah, yes, but certain detection would have followed. One thing is certain: The object was to get rid of Banker Deßosette. 1 think that had been determined in your mind before to-night, Herman Craven, and if before to-night, why, then the securing of this bag of coin was no part of your motive; but Robert being there with his bag of coin was a Circumstance, though not counted on, yet to be taken advantage of, and shrewdly the matter was managed. The banker is murdered, the bag of coin disappeared, and the man who stood in the nephew's way is in the custody of Sheriff Cobb—presumably a murderer. And lam left to solve the mystery that surrounds the taking off of a good man. I wonder if Mr. Deßosette left a will, and what that document will Reveal? A little time will tell; and now for the grieving mother and sister of the innocent victim of circumstances, who is pacing with anxious strides the floor of a cell in the county jail.” Sellars bad reached the widow's residence ou Walnut street. A bright light shone forth from the front windows, and as he stepped on the piazza a low moaning sound reached his ears from within. “Poor sohls," he thought. “I will soon dispel your agonizing fears, and ere long, I trust, restore to you your son and brother.” And he rang the door bell. ’• CHAPTER VI. Roger, an old family servant, to whom the detective teas well known, opened the door, and a. be MW tbe tail ton. S«l-

lars before him, the excigmatlcn: “Thank God!” fell from his Ups. “Your mistress and her daughter know of the murder, and that Robert is held in custody of the sheriff?” “Yes, Mars Lang, yes; Sheriff Cobb brought Mars Robert here, before he take him to jail. There was a scene, Mars Lang, a scene, and my old mistress and Miss Jennie is distracted. Dat boy ain’t no murderer, Mars Lang. I trot him on my knee when be was a chile, and I oughter know. Rascality don’t run in de Campbell blood. Mars Lang.” “Tell the ladies I am here, Roger, and ask them ” At this moment the sitting room door opened and Jennie Campbell stepped into the hall, with a handkerchief to her eyes. “What is it, Roger?" she asked. “One who has called to bid you banish ail fear as to any peril your brother may be in because of this sad case,” said the detective, as he advanced towards her. “Lang Sellars." “Oh!” cried Jennie. “The great detective. But—but Robert said that even yon believed him guilty of that terrible crime —that you remarked that Sheriff Cobb had apprehended the guilty man,. Surely, surely, sir ” “It is sometimes necessary, Miss Jennie, to divert suspicion from the perpetrators of crime, in order that they may deem themselves secure, and in their fancied security to let them rest until they are thoroughly entangled in the network of their own crime, and a chain of evidence be woven about them that will leave no doubt as to their guilt when they are arraigned before a bar of justice. Such a case is this. So, though seemingly I acquiesced in Sheriff Cobb's opinion and approved of your brother’s apprehension, I assure you that even then I was fully aware that he had an innocent man in custody. Robert Campbell was not the murderer of Alvin Deßosette.” “Bless you, sir! Bless you! Your assurance will give my mother comfort that the words of no other could. Not but that she knows Robert to be innocent, but that you, a wan whose fame as a detecter of crime, and who, it is said, reads man’s lives, their motives and their thoughts, in their eyes and features, as we ordinary people would in a printed book, have pronounced him innocent. Please come to my mother, sir.” “You flatter me, Miss Campbell,” said the detective, as he followed her. “I can scarce speak unmerited words of flattery, sir, of'the man who saved the life of Herbert Russell.” The mother of Robert Campbell sat bowed in grief in a rocker near a table in the center of the room—the most bitter grief she hod ever known, for her loved son lay incarcerated in Wilmington jail, and the foul crime of murder was charged against him. “Mother!” exclaimed her daughter, “here is one who will drive away your agonizing fears, one who will assure you of my brother’s innocence." “If I could have the assurance of one man alone in all this broad land," said the widow, “that he believed my son innocent of a foul crime of which I know him to be not the perpetrator, my heartffwould be comforted. But alas, he also has condemned my boy. You know of whom I speak, daughter—the great Southern detective.” "Madam,” said Sellars, deeply moved; “he whom you indicate, from motives now known to your daughter, or partly so, it is true, did seemingly approve of the apprehension of your son, but let me assure you that in his heart there rests not a single doubt of your son’s innocence. To assure you of that fact, and in a measure relieve yon of anxiety, he is here.” At the first sound of the detective’s voice Mrs. Campbell had raised her tearstained eyes to his face, and now’ a deep sob burst from her breast, and for a moment she seemed choking with emotion; then recovering in a degree her composure, she extended one hand to the detective. “The Lord be praised!” she exclaimed. “Lang Sellars! With him assured of my boy’s innocence, with Robert under his protecting care, all is well. My daughter, i we have nothing to (ear. We will banish ' our tears and moans. God bless you, sir!” (To