Jasper County Democrat, Volume 2, Number 16, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 29 July 1899 — AUNT HANNAH'S SECRET. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

AUNT HANNAH'S SECRET.

By B. E. Scott.

CHAPTER XlX.—(Continued.) “Your opinion of Herman Craven seems to have changed.’’ “There is much, son, that we cannot understand- Above all else, we must not lose sight of the fact that Herman is the dead banker's nephew—his only sister s child. I did doubt the validity of that will, but ask yourself this question, *Would a wealthy uncle do less than liberally remember an only nephew in his will?’ Again, would he not be apt to name his daughter's only living relative her guardian? It is not strange that he had named him his administrator. Ihe banker bade fair to live many years. Herman was under his guidance, and he no doubt hoped to see him come up to his standard of what he thought a young man should be, in which event he no doubt expected that the young man would one day become bis son.” “And yet we can blame neither the banker nor Herman Craven. Above all things, son, let us be just. I fully believe that Herman has riot a single doubt of Robert’s guilt.” “But Miss Deßosette?” “Ah! That is another matter altogether. Come, let us go home. We can converse on the way.” “I am going to call on the mother and sister of the innocent man in jail, father. "Yes, by all means, son. My heart bleeds for them. But how do they bear up under their sorrow?” “Bravely, father. Mr. Sellars has inspired them with that faith that they are only looking forward to the day when Robert shall be vindicated.” “Well, it is best so. Jennie is a brave girl.” “And the dearest one on earth to me, father.” "So, so, boy! You have chosen your future bride?” “If 1 can win her, father.” “Well, God grant you may! I would gladly welcome the daughter of my eld friend, Dunean Campbell, as ray «on's wife, even though his innocent son should meet death on the gallows.” "Thank you, my fjither; but no such fate awaits Robert Campbell.” The two men here left rhe otlice, and the father made- bis way home, while fifteen minutes later the son entered the door of the widow’s residence, where he found two women in tears. “Cheer up! Cheer up!” he cried, as he crossed the threshold. "You both promised to be brave. Remember Sellars saying, 'The darkest hour always comes just before dawn.’ ” "Then dawn must soon appear,” said the widow, “for with my son in the hands of a jury that will at 10 o’clock to-morrow condemn him to death, there could be no darker hour.” “Yes, mother—one!” sobbed the daughter. “But not for you and your dear mother, my loved Jennie! For yon, the dawn will soon break, and as clear and fair as * summer morn! 1 know it feel it! A noble name will be vindicated a son and brother restored to you. Even now the great detective may be hastening to the rescue of an innocent man.” “Yes! Yes!” cried Jennie. “We have his word—his pledge!” “And the pledge of Lang Sellars is never violated, my love!” “His reward,” said the widow, “shall not be measured by gold. We will ever cherish his memory in our hearts.” “And my reward, dear Mrs. Campbell?” “Yours, Arthur?” “Mine, Mrs. Campbell! May I name it now—at least, the one I would ask? It Is the hand and heart of the girl 1 love!” “Oh, Arthur! Arthur! You have the heart now!” cried Jennie, as the young man folded his arms about her. “And you have wou the hand also,” said the widow, with a smile that shone hap pily even through her tears. "My children’s happiness is all I crave. God bless you both, and bring me back my boy!” “And I may claim my bride?" “When our great detective has fulfilled his pledge.”

CHAPTER XX. At 10 o’clock on the morning of the twenty-eighth every seat in the court room of Judge Fowler was tilled. There was no longer even standing room. . "Wilmington's jibpidrice ' lind turned out almost en masse-to listen to the verdict of the jury in the ease against Robert Campbell, charged with minder, and few there were who doubted what that verdict would be. The prisoner occupied the box, as he hail for several days previous, while seated just without the railing that separated him from the bar of the court was his mother and sister. It seemed that the calm demeanor of the prisoner brought added confidence to the two women, who were earnestly conversing with him. Within the bar were seated a number of attorneys. To the right of the judicial seat was At- , torney Robbins, while by his side sat Herman Craven, without a singlejjloud darkening his brow. Slightly removed from them sat Mrs. Hammond, the wife of Director Hammond, Misa Steel, and the fair daughter of the murdered banker. i. To the left, nearer the prisoner, were seated Lawyer Dobbs and bis son. The clerk of the court was already at Uis post and Sheriff Cobb stood directly I behind the prisoner, while two of his dep- . nties were leading over the railing. Coroner Field, who had held the prisoner for trial, was standing near the . sheriff. , The low hum of voices resounded | throughout the court room, and expecb tancy was beaming from all eyes as they t were turned from time to time to the side | door by which it was expected the judge I would enter the court robm. B As the last stroke of the clock died away S the door opened and the judge advanced within the bar. I A moment more and he had mounted the

bench and taken his seat. The sheriff had advanced within the railing, and with his gavel he struck three blows on the corner of the clerk’s desk, crying out as he did so: “O yez, O yez! This honorable court is now in session! Order, order in this honorable court!” A dead silence succeeded the sheriff’s proclamation. “Mr. Sheriff," said the judge, “have the jury in the case against Robert Campbell agreed on a verdict?” “They have, your honor!” “Conduct them into court.” Sheriff Cobb passed without the railing and struggled through the throng to the rear end of the court room, where he knocked on the jury room door. Iff a moment more his voice resounded through the room as he cried: “Make way! Make way for the jury! Make way! Make way!” f A space was opened, and down through it, with the sheriff at their head, marched the twelve men who, through one word of their foreman, would consign Robert Campbell to the gallows. At least, so expected a vast majority of those present in the court room. The jury filed into the box, and each man stood facing the judge.” There was a solemn look on the faces of these men that caused a shudder to pass through the frames of a doting mother, a loving sister and the bereaved daughter of the late banker, whose heart was in the keeping of the prisoner at the bar. “It is all up with him,’’ thought Herman Craven; nor thought he so alone. The judge turned solemnly and faced the jury. “Gentlemen of the jury, have you agreed upon your verdict?” “We have,” responded Foreman Albright. “What say you? Guilty or not guilty?” Every neck was craned forward. Every eye was on the lips of the foreman. Would he never speak? Ah, his lips move! “We find the prisoner ” “Hold! Hold! Make way! Make way!” Every attorney leaped to his feet. Even the judge stood erect on his stand. “Make way! Make way!" and strong arms wereAforciwg a passage through the throng from the main entrance of the court room. The prisoner, at the sound of that voice, regardless of the sheriff's deputies, had leaped to his feet, and standing erect, the first object that met his gaze was the head and shoulders of the great Southern detective, towering above all others. "Make way! Make way!” And in an instant more three men inarched within the railing of the bar or rather the foremost one was thrust within by the hands of the detective, who followed. This foremost party was of a goodly frame, being fully six feet in height. He was clothed in a fashionable suit of steel gray, a diamond stud glittered from his white shirt front, a heavy gold chain hungj pendant from a button hole of his vest, and a beaver hat rested rather slantingly on his head. His eyes were black and piercing, and a grayish mustache adorned his upper lip. On his thin lips was a scornful smile and his features were livid with either the emotion of hate or fear. His gloved hands were before him. held there by iron shackles, and one hand of Sellars rested upon his shoulder. The detective appeared as calm and collectALns though he was at his home dandling his boy knee. All eyes were fixed on these two figures, and none noticed the frail looking man who. leaning on a stout cane, bad followed in the wake of the detective. The quick eye of Sellars had scanned all countenances, but now his gaze was riveted on an object of terror that had arisen in alarm to its feet at the first sound of his voice, but had sunk back to its seat with a groan when the handcuffed form had been thrust within the tailing. The object of terror was Herman Craven. He sat. a cowering wretch, with the pallor of death on his face, and his wild eyes gazing on the features of the manacled man. A dead silence had succeeded the entrance of the three men within the bar. The judge, who had been lost to his surroundings, now recalled himself to the duties before him, and his ire was apparently aroused, r "What"means’ this unwonted disturbance of the proceedings of this court, Lang Sellars?" he demanded, in a loud voit4, with his eyes fixed on the detective. "It means, your honor,” came in deep tones from the lips of Sellars, "that this jury shall be saved from the disgrace of pronouncing an innocent man guilty of the foul crime of murder-—that this court shall be saved the ignominy of condemning to death one whose hand has shed no blood. It means that this wretch who you see before you is the murderer of Alvin Deßosette.” A A glad cry escaped the lips of Robert Campbell’s mother: "Saved! Saved! My boy is saved!” and mother and daughter were weeping in each other's arms, while from his box the arms of the prisoner were cast about them. “Who is your prisoner?” demanded the judge, who appeared astounded at Sellars’ statement. "Stephen Abbott, a Baltimore gambler —C. A. Stephens, a traveling man—Stephen Craven, the father of the president of ‘The Cape Fear Bank,’ the cowering wretch seated there, who was his accomplice!” "It’s false! It’s a lie! A wicked lie!” cried Herman. "I never saw the man before! Robert Campbell murdered my dear uncle! I caught him red-handed in the act!” A scornful smile parted the lips of Stephen Craven, as he glanced contemptuously at his son. j “Here, your honor,!’ exclaimed Sellars, “is a. bag of coin—twelve thousand five hundred dollars in gold!" and he laid it on the desk before the clerk. "If you will read this missive, you will learn how 1 obtaintKl it!” “Let the clerk read it aloud, that the

counsel may hear also,*’ said the judge. Sellars handed the letter to the clerk, who read as follows: “Baltimore, Md., Sept. 22, 1857. Dear Herm—Read effusion below and comply by first express. I am up, and can delay no longer.—Your Dad Up one pair of stairs, then pass in a door, Under the red brick the chimney before, Where sits a young maiden in tears and alone, Heft that behind that caused me to groan. Use very great care in removing the same, And send its equivalent to a man With three names; Then have no delay, but make heiress your wife As soon as you can after one’s lost his life. Since one direct blow made you a rich man, You must not forget the villain who ran, For the fetters that bind us are stronger than steel, And danger has fled if your lips you will seal. Two nights in a garret and one on the road, With shot bag behind, was a very big load. I guided the blade of the sheath knife, you see, And now there’s a fortune for both you and me. You jingled that bell at an opportune time, And can clasp in your arms an heiress divine. •» Gold satisfies me, you know very well, For sending the soul of a banker to h—l. P. S.—The bag of coin was a rich find, and one that came unexpectedly. That poor devil, R. C., made a fatal error entering the banker’s residence that night. It will cost him his life, but it is better so. I feared to leave the house with the coin, and had every opportunity during the commotion below to place it where you will find it. Send its equivalent—quick! Address as before, Stephen Abbott, Baltimore, Md.”

“That concludes the letter,” said the clerk. Exclamations of horror arose from all parts of the court room, but they were soon checked by the voice of the judge himself: “Order in court! Mr. Sheriff, you will preserve order!” "How came that letter in your possession, Mr. Sellars?” asked the judge. “And to whom is it addressed?” “That letter, your honor, arrived at the postofflce in Wilmington, on the morning of the twenty-fourth of September. The envelope bears the address ‘Herman Craven, Wilmington, N. C.’ On the lefthand corner appears the word, ‘Personal.’ ” “I —I never saw it! I know nothing about it!” gasped Herman. “There is a foul plot here!” “Proceed, Mr. Sellars,” said the judge. “I had for some time suspected that Banker Deßosette was murdered by one C. A. Stephens, and that Herman Craven was an accomplice. I had requested Postmaster Grady to hold any mail that might arrive addressed to Herman Craven, marked ‘Personal,’ or out of the ordinary line that the bank usually received, for my inspection. "On the night of the twenty-third I returned from a trip South. I had visited New Orleans, and had ascertained the fact that Herman Craven had lied to his uncle when he had stated that his father fell a victim to yellow fever two years previous to his (Herman’s) arrival in Wilmington. The yellow fever had claimed no such victim in New Orleans as Stephen Craven. “1 at once came to the conclusion that Stephen Craven and C. A. Stephens were one and the same man, and before I left New Orleans I had formed the opinion that Stephen Abbott was the same individual.

"On the morning of the twenty-fourth Mr. Grady handed me this letter. After reading it 1 fixed up a dummy express package in.his private otlice and consigned it by express to Stephen Abbott, taking myself the same train for Baltimore that bore the package. I was accompanied by Adam, the colored coachman of the late banker, who on the night of the seventeenth of August had seen C. A. Stephens and Herman Craven conversing together. In fact, who had driven them twice past the banker's residence in the Deßosette carriage on that evening.” "I —I never saw that man before! There is a conspiracy here to blast my character!" cried Herman. "Proceed, Mr. Sellars,” said the judge. "Arrived in Baltimore, I took up my station in the express office with Adam near me, and at 11 a. m. on the twenty-sixth, when this man entered the express otlice, called for and obtained the package, I apprehended him. ’ He fought desperately' for his life, as you can see from this rent in my coat sleeve, caused by a thrust of his dirk, but I easily disarmed him, and he.stands before you. On his person I found these letters. They were purloined from a package taken from a trunk in the attic of the late banker’s residence, where the assassin had secreted himself, and where he remained for two days and nights after the murder.

“1 bad no trouble in obtaining a requisition from Gov. Elliott of Maryland to convey my prisoner from the State. We arrived here at 9:15 this morning. I found the bag of coin beneath the brick hearth before the fireplace in Miss Deßosette’s room at her residence. Adam, of course, recognized this man as C. A. Stepheqs, the man he had driven out in company with Herman Craven, and although testimony of his would not be admissible, it will not be needed. I think I have stated enough to convince the court that Robert Campbell is an innocent man. and that the murderer of Alvin Deßosette stands beside me.” “Marvelous!” ejaculated the judge. “I will say further.” said the detective, “that even the sea has given up it’s to show, a motite on the part of Herman Craven for the foul crimq, in which he was an accessory. Indeed, without his aid it could not have been committed. “I encountered on the steamer, coming down the Chesapeake bay, one long since mourned as dead —a man who, though one of the survivors of the ill-fated Gossmore, has for months lain with a disordered brain in. an asylum near Liverpool, England. As soon as he was sane and in a condition to travel he left England for America. He is yet frail and feeble, but your honor Will have no difficulty in recognizing in the gentleman standing here,” and the detective moved slightly to one side—“ John D. Loyd, the surviving witness of Alvin Deßosette’s will.” (To be cintinued.)