The National Banner, Volume 9, Number 51, Ligonier, Noble County, 15 April 1875 — Page 1

~The Padional Banner ' ot Pn'blldﬁgd by i " JOHN B, STOLL, LIGONIER,NOBLE COUNTY,IND, By TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION :- . Striétlyin advance....ieieeienranensiina..~.s2.oo ' erhispaperispublisheddnthecashprhwzzﬂe, itsproprietarbelicvingthatitis justasright for him to demand advgnee pay, as it 18 for City publishers, & Amyperson éendin-gba'clnbpflo. accomparnied with-the cash, willbe entitledto acopyof thepaper.foroneyear.free ofcharge.

.’: ok ‘St Soes e ' / %/&‘J{‘ o;" i _‘ .‘ //___ o _ \E/‘J‘ ‘jl j ;S:jc\\;\_;:"\‘ /J/[ 3 e A 0 ,l" e oii e L THERE ARE TO-DAY A T hi Each owning and have used the Celebrated . i ~ Oliver Chilled Plow! And, would épa:e pel'mit;“\\'e could jﬁ»roduce the téi\‘tilill'f()ny of those one thousand men, each certifying that they are the most complete implement on their farm and would use no other. et - THERE ARE TO-DAY i s = . _ A :me : . .";"& . . R 4 ) a i . ' : ; v ‘ t 1 B g v IY N i, ' ]i 4UOU TARRMEES B 0 NUDHEL VUUNLT o 0 W;hb do not own, and many of this number who have never heard of, much less tested, fh_g superior merits of this most popular labor-saving implement, and it is for the benefit of these two thousand farmers that we issue ‘this appeal to-day. Not for the “ninety and nine” that are e e - safe, but the one that is-“astray” is our motto. gt L ~ AT THECLOSE OF THE YEAR I 875!! We do not tvant it said by a single farmer in Noble county that he did not, at some time dur- . ing theseason, at least TRY one of these €elebrated Plows ¥ From small beginnings in 1870, (the dawn of the great revolution in Plows) out sales have te adily increased year by year until 1874, when we sold from this point alone the unprece- | RO ' “dented number of 385 Plews. - g fn Certainly an implement having such a wide :reputation and giving such complete and universalsatisfaction, must possess no ordinary merit, and what we propose for the year before us, S " asin years past,is that every s s Aund not upon mere theory. Let us briefly ‘é.xami‘ne into sonie of these merits and notice the pomnts of ‘superiority ovesr lival plows: -The first, most prominent and, distinguishing feature is e e Lightness of Draft. R e This is not mere theory but incontrovertable, s',vtul')bc"njn fact. = Not only “are the Mould-board, Landside, Standard and Points made upon strictly scientific principles, but the metal itself being Chilled admits of a higher polish than Cast Iron or ordinary Steel, and is so hard as to completely resist the action of the soil, hence the Mould-board is not cut up with myriads of fine furrows or grooves, (as in ordinary plows;) causing the dirt to “stick” and thus materially increasing the draft. . The sloping landside,- the peculiar construction of the point, and the - manner in which it fits up to the mould-board, also contribute largely to a light draft. i e e The second point of superiority is e e '

00l sy o Hase of Adjustment. T 0 T:iking a \\'i;?fle“or-) narrow furrow at will, and by means of a slotted brace between handles changirlg from a two to a three-horse plow in a few moments time; also adapting the plow ‘ perfeetly to the team are strong features which to be appreciated must be tried. - 4L .~ The third: point of superiority is o L Rade of Handling, o o oes Besn o ' Thisis 4 prdxﬁinent feature l'edclily*; attested by. all who have used the plow; being perfeétly balanced, a mere boy can do successful work, and plowing; instead of being a “drudge” as here- ~ tofore; becomes now a pastoie. It stands to-day the Steadiest Running plow in existence. - o TR -+ The fourth point of superiority is - & s e i Best for General Use, = \Vorking e((uzﬂ] y welliinSod,’S'tlil)})le;“:Mal‘sL,.';l}’mirie, hard Clay Soi},'o';' light feathel"y Loam, : 1 and WIEELE S€OUR when ordinary Steel Plows willnot. ~~ * ‘ S - The fifth pointof superiority-is = e e LT T bl it - This is a \fe:'xturer:of vital iniportance t 0 the farming coxvmfmn_i‘ty, and -one which every owner +of this Plow fully appreciates. -We unhesitatingly affirm that this is the . . Most Durable Plow Ever Invented. ¥he i\[()illﬁd-ié(){}lf(ls of Plows sold in_'lB4;3_9 are in use yet, and nopéféeptible Wearii'is noticed. RQfgiembeiﬁ_ Every Plow is “farrant.ed fully to -Perfdrtn as Repreks o sented 0¥ no Sale! @ - 'The Jointer Attachment, e (As geen in cui;,). completes the mex"itg"of:'thi's Plow, which must be tried to. be“appreciated._; ~ With it you effectually bury all Stubble, Manure, Corn Stalks and Litter upon your fields.— © - . . While mnSod it is unequaled for completeness of work. =~ o -, Don’t Buy a Plow Without a. Jointer. . I you have no descriptive circular of this Plow address me, giving name and P. 0. address, . and one will be forwarded immediately. Ask your Hardware ‘dea%e;:fto send for sample, but ' DON'T Neglect to TRY ONE OF THESE PLOWS (thesoping siorher -0o TRI By, R e S Marchiith,lB%s. . ' LIGONIER,INDIANA.

The Natiomal Banner.

Vol, O.

LIGONIER, INDIANA, THURSDAY, APRIL 15, 15%5.

ROSALIE RATHBORNE;. i TR, L . SIN AND SORROW. ' BY WATTS PHILLIPPS, i AUTHOR OF “FOR A WOMANS SAKE,” “DRIVEN FROM HOME,” “JENNY GRAY; OT, A WOMAN’S . © = VENGEANCE,” ETI(., ETIC St , CHAPTER ~XV. . i % THE -CONSEQUENCES OF BIN. Miserable, to the three most important persons of our story, was the night: which followed the events related in :our last chapter. ; kel g . Sleepless, and full of painful thought to all of them. ; e Ly ‘Rosalie’s reflections . ended in 4 determi-\ nation to fly with her boy, leaving behind her a letter: for Clarence Hartley, which should tell him how he had been duped,: and how she herself had been tortured into . becoming, as she believed, ‘ his wafe, oo S . ‘ She would, in short, tell him all the But would he credit her revelation? | .. Would he not believe that she had, in reality, herself deceived him, as Mistress Camelford had so long insisted that she should. ) : it

He might credit that she had supposed her husband dead, but that would not absolve her from duplicity. . As the widow of his friend, the mother of Gresham’s son, Hartley would have had no thought to make ler his wife, Rosalie In;f;wv :ivell knew, as at .the first she had beeved. Copy "

Would not, then, the thoughts of Hartley accuse her that she had’ tricked him into becoming her husband for the sake only of the great wealth which she had known that he possessed. : : e e He would look back, and would find ample evidence that she had never entertained for him ' one single spark of love. Pt L .

‘Would believe she had not even esteemed him, since she had dle of him-:‘her dupe; had made luy( wretched and contemptible in his own. eyes; had sacrificed herself to him for the wealth of which he was the master. S : She would tell hiiu: of that letter which she had written, and whi¢h Mistress Camelford had suppressed, but would h& have faith in that, since it was certain that her cousin would deny wt such a letter had ever-existed. -~

Whether he would think her guilty, or should believe that she had been mbre greatly wronged than he himself, Rosalie could not know, and would got pause to consider. ' b : Her future—her only care *henceforth, would be her son, so miraculously restored to her; and she was willlly longing for ‘the hour of his arrival, that she might fly with him, far away—beyond the seas, if only so she might have hope to, be secure with him, to feel assured that he would not again be wrested from her. .

And Greshani;” through the long night, had paced his room, lamenting the irrevocable past, and striving to shape out that which would be: best for a future, which must be hopeless and “oyless. . Should he flyand leave Rosalie still with Hartley, and with her son to render her almost happy ? i * No !—his friend had been : alfeady more than sufficiently deluded; and Gresham would neifher aid in, nor connive at further treachery towards him. e - %And; besides,” reflected Gresham ; <if Rosalie should desire to remain with Hartley, it would be because she loves him now, and long years have “obliterated from ‘her heart him whose imidge once reigned there supreme and alone !’ e sy If she could wish to continue with Hartley, Rosalie had ceased to be an object of pity, and would be no longer worthy that Gresham should regign toher their son,since he would not be at all needed for her happiness, . oL S S RS

~ And Gresham locked to Arthur for all the consolation tha! now, on earth, could come to him. ; ' And more- toxturing than to either of these, had been the past night to Mistress Camelford. i : [l e

On no account must she quit Rosalie now ; must be near to direct, and to behold and gloat over the effects which would. be produced by the completion, at last, of her terrible revenge.

So Mistress - Camelford had eagerly accepted the invitation which -Hartley had given her, to remain for some| time at his house, and to be the companion of her cousin. : % T

Butjeven for Mistress Camelford’s iron nature, the events of the last four-and-twenty hours ‘had been too. overpowerIR S

Her brain, constantly, for so many years, strained to its utmost tension; her "heart seething incessantly with .":c evil; passions it was nourishing; her ~ _ fiame, as we have seen, had already ..ut beneath the struggle, and. soon was to be entirely broken. - : ¢ .

Her conscience would speak, admonish it how she might to silence.. = ° s

Brooding on whatshe had accomplished ‘—reflecting darkly through the past night on that which yet she had to do, striving to stifie the still small voice. which never ceased repeating to her that already she has. .done too much,—the morning found ‘her illiin mind and body both, writhing and prostrate, a prey to-an increasing fever which wag consuming her. | __Arthur Gresham had again arrived at Hartley’s mansion, but had not seught—‘had, indeed, avoided an inteview. with its owner ;he had not courage sgain to play the hypocrite with the man who had been his earliest, and for long his only friend. Gresham felt that if they met again, he. should disclose all, and that must not be—at least, till he had seen, and had ascertained perfectly from Rosalie what were her wishes and intentions. - First, too, he must see again his son; and it might be that he would find himself justified in taking 'the boy with him on that journey to a distant land on which he had resolved. © o - And so Rosalie and Gresham ha,d»mg again—were alone, and gazing on, without daring to approach each other. - It might have heen supposed from the reserve that each -displayed, that they were strangers to each other, and had never before encountered, but that both were greatly : agitated — both ~ were trem-

Scarce a word thad beén exchanged between these two unhappy beings,” when Mistress Camelford, with haggard eve, a death-like pallor overspreading her gunken, dePaply furrowed, cheeks,—tottered slowly and painfully into the room, sustained by her waiting-woman, Laura Hutchinson, on whom she heavily leaned, and withou' whose assistance she had been unable for :: ~:ingle moment to uphold: ‘herself upon her eet. 3 2 2 &

Heavily she sank into a chair, and cast her head back, and closed: her eyes, and looked like death itself. : : T Only her short thick breathing gave token to those who looked upon her thai she was living/still. = e : ~_Seized with illness where little compas}sion or = attention miil;fi be hoped for, Mistress Camelford d determined to return without -~ delay to her wn - home. * >

She would not, was her thought, permit those whom she.hated, against whom she had contrived, and was contriving still; to be witnesses of her tortures bodily and mental. ko e

The reproaches with which Gresham had been prepared to load this’ wicked woman, died away upon his lips, when he beheld her so feeble and st;gha,stly. But Mistress Camelford, by her indoniitable will, presently revived, opened again her-eyes, and gazed with a malignity fearful to behold, on those whom she so cruclly had injored. e . Her eyes grew brilliant, a hectic flush rose to her cheeks, as she told her vietims

by what means, by what skillful treachery she had ;&nﬁﬁed therevenge shehad sworn ‘against them. AR e L “Emow you, woman, you have committed crimes would give you to the scaffold ?” Gresham demanded, when Mistress Camelford, still exulting in all that she had done, had finished her recital. ' *Beyond your power, to harm me—and I have but treated you according to yourmerits; why did you' write to me those” fatal letters 772 : ey g

’ Gresham was again about, as-years be\for%tzon declare that no letter had he ever wrl to Mistress Camelford ; but, ere he had time to frame a word ‘a loud shriek ang through the apartment. beeig ﬁlaura. Hutchinson, shrinking ‘into the' . remotest corner of the room, had listened with terror to all that had been said, had recognised how infamouslyshe, herself, had acted; and now, shrieking and wringing Ber hands, - hurried’ wildly forward, and cast herself upon her knees. * : > “Ah, what have T done!—what' have ¥ db‘ne—'k%l me”’ sh raved. , “I have been a yreteh, and I deserve to die !”? ) Arthur Gresham remembered the dying wards of Albert Marsden, and grasping the amm of the wretched woman kneeling there, he cried:: . : s

“Oh! I understand—You are ‘Layra Hutchinson : she from whom I was to re”ce}lve a clue to that mysterious freachery wirsh has undone us all—confess! beyond all renmedy is the evil which has been wrought, but, confess, woman, conTess !l onig v e L “ And Laura Hutchinson did confess.

Those letters which had duped Mistress Camelford, had driven her to acts which were perfectly demoniacal—those letters had been written by Albert’ Marsden, with the hope, at a further time, to compromise her fame, and to avenge his own double rejection by her—and Laura Hutchinson had been his emissary, for a substantial reward had betrayed her mistress; but far from-her had been, she said, the thought that such .terrible* calamity would result from her perfidy.. i L ' Now was-it Mistress Camelford’s turn fo shriek, and groan, and wring her hands. [ i :

Already suffering terribly, she was entirely prostrate by her confidante’s confession—she sank i helplessly to .the floor, and lay moaning and grovelling at the feet of those to whom she had done such dreadful wrong—crawling in the dust, implored them to pardon, to have pity on her. - “Oh! in what terrible guilthavel steeped my soul,”” she groaned. fOh! how I suffer!” and she m:sed ‘ther hand to her breast, “I am bufhing ;an inward fire is devouring me! Oh! this suffering is more than I can bear—death ! death rather-than this horrible torture.” . 2

- Terror stricken, Rosalie looked arcound - for Laura Hutchinson. to assist her mistress, but that worthy confidant was gone, had .stolen from the apartment, and was never .again seen, nor heard of by those to whom her perfidy had been the first cause of all the horrors that had followed.

_Presently, Mistress Camelford uttered a desparing shriek—she! had remembered the fate to which, the night before, she had doomed Rosalie’s son. * z :

“Young Arthur! young Arthur!’ she cried, “save him'!—he——"" . . . - And then suddenly her mind began to wander,’ and she' 'raved incoherently, and madly laughed, and so was borne back to the chamber which she, the night before had occupied, and which; alive, she was not again to quit. : Lo The brief mention of Arthur made by Mistress Camelford had struck terror to the heart of both his parents. =~ .

. Had her utterance been that of delirium only, or. was -the boys ~life again menaced ? Gl :

Might he not be already dead! ol . The first blow struck at his young Ilife ‘had Tailed it might be, that Mistress Camelford had resolved a second should prove more certain. : L

Gresham was about to hurry, away to Margaret Burford’s hut, when, at that moment Margaret herself arrived. ; Pale and affrighted was she, and she came. to tell that Arthur had disapplared. e . . The previous night, ere going to- rest, she had seen him safely in his bed, in a small room which adjoined her own sleeping chamber, and separated from it, only by a very thin partition. ; : Very lightly had she slept throughout the night, but had heard no sound; yet in the early morning; when she had gone to ‘Arthur’s chamber, he was no longer there: . = : .

Gresham demanded, “slept your husband at his home last night?” and Margaret faintly answered that he did not. - . Gresham next asked if Adam Burford had the means, and was in thée habit of entering this house by night, without arousing his wife. - : And now Margaret gave an affirmative reply : : - “It is he, then, who has again possessed. himself of Arthur,” Gresham said, and Margaret dropped her head and did not speak. ; " «Oh ! the villain has killed my darling boy !”” wept Rosalie. . |

#No—no, he would not dare to do that!” urged Gresham; “he has been employed by Mistress Camelford to remove . Arthur beyond our reach, but not to slay him, I am convinced of that; the attempt® now to destroy our son, would be to hazardous even for your ‘cousin, daring apd reckless in h:er atrocity as she has proved herself. e

And those words were a gleam of comfort to Rosalie’s hea¥t, for they had broughtcon. viction to/her mind, .that Arthur had not ceased to exist, and soon her cousin would be able, and would now be willing too, to say what had become of ‘Rosalie’s son, and would cause him to be restored again to his mother’s arms. o , And sO,/as Gresham hurried away td employ agents who would -endeavor to trace, ~and to recover the stolen boy, Rosalie flew to her cousin’s chamber, and her heart col, lapsed, for they told her that Mistress Camelford could not long survive ; a raging fever was fast consuming her, and she was delirious and raving of the past, and sometimes muttering, sometimes screaming forth with peals of wild laughter, words which thrilled with horror those who were beside her couch, and so compelled to listen. ‘- : 'l‘hroughont that day, and the night that followed it, Rosalie quitted not her cousin’s side, continued listening to her cousin’s : mVinffvs with the hope that 'midst them she would speak of Arthur, would give some in. dication by which he might be followed and brought back to his poaor, almost heart. broken mother. 4 e But. in Mistress Camelford’s delirium, Arthur seenjed not for a single moment tohold a place in her disordered thoughts, no word o? him, no allusion’ to Rosalie’s poor boy. i Sl . Entirely exhausted by her long vigil, her heart ﬁllgd with . despair, -Rosagie ida.d, ab length, quitted the chamber of her wicked cousin, and was on the way to her own apartments, when, as she entered one of the corridors, a door at its opposite end flew suddenly open, and ‘Ros:.’liie looked again’ upon her son, and he on her. - : ‘Rosalie, struck motionless with surprise: and delight, sent forth a loud, joyful cry,and Azxthur, iound.mg towards her eagerly, and with extended arms, anxions to embrace: her; shrieked out: - - b s «Mother ”? . Lep s ]

And then; he too, stood still, and placed his hiands tipon his throat, writhing with the violent pain which there was torturing him, again strove to agea.k, but could not; and sank to the ground exhausted. ' His mother knelt beside him, and enfolded hint within her arms. : “Oh! that effort has crushed him !” Rosalie eried, contemplating - Arthur with great affright. - ity : But it was not so, for presently the hoy, opening again his eyes, endeavored to smile as he clung around his mother. ; Again he essayed to speak, and could not, and ae before, carriad his hands to his. throat, and writhed with the pain which ﬁ? u?tﬁempt to utter a secomd word, had cost

““Oh ! desist, dear Arthur, desist!” eried Rosalie, “an overwhelming terror first deprived you of your speech, & mighty joy has now as certainly restored it to you—but make no farther effort now ; wait patiently with the blest assurance that you ‘are ,no longer a poor dumb boy !> e -And the result was, ultimately, as Rosalie had now predicted. 1 : ‘ In time, and by slow degrees, Arthur regained his full speech; at first his words ‘were disjoined and unconnected, like to a child’s earliest utterances, but at length that struge? s hesitation left him, and he could speal. .noathly and fluently... .

~ ‘What hac befallen him, since two days before, whe.. he had parted with his mother, Arthur wrote when Rosalie had taken him to her apartments. , * A’ rough hand laid upon him had startled him suddenly from his sleep, and the moon-" light, which was streaming into his chamber, had shown him Adam Burford standing beside the bed, and in his hand a knife, the point of which was directed threateningly towards the boy’s throat. * ° S " Arthur, notwithstanding, strove to utter some sort of cry, for he knew.that the ‘slightest sound would have reached Margaret’s ear; but most perfectly mute was he then—not the faintest cry was ‘he able to produce—a strange, unaccountable terror, far beyond that which the peril of that ‘moment would have occasioned him, seized upon hini as he locked into Burford’s face, which it seemed to him had before con= fronted him with the same menacing and *hideous aspect. , e .~ He was snatched from his bed, the knife held threateningly over his head, was made to hurry on his clothes, and was then forced; from the hut. r 4

Burford walked - rapidly, compelling Arthur to keep pace with him, through several hours of the dark night, and just before daybreak they reached a -miserable and empty hovel, into which Arthur was forced by the ruffian into whose~power he again had fallen, and the -door was locked upon him, and he was a prisoner and alone.

He listened to Burford’s receding footsteps, which soon died away in the distance, and then strove to conjecture what was the fate that was intended him. ‘Was .he to be left there to starve and dié ? e s

No succor could come to him; for should any one pass near that hovel, he was dumb, and so could not make known that he was captive there, and implore their charitable aid. ; e

Despair gave him wondrous strength; and he strove to dash down the door, but it resisted all his efforts. .

Small and supple as was Arthur’s figure, et was it impossible that he could force I'lis way through the narrow loop-hole, which was the only window his prison contained. e oo i

But yet, he must escape ! It had become broad daylight; and, once free, he would be safe from recapture; for, in the open day, Burford would not surely, dare ¢ in to lay violent hands/upon him. - Arthur looked upwards, towards the rdof; it was of thatch, and «at no great height above his head. b jis ‘

With much labor, and-after many fruitless ttempts, he contrived to climb to it; and working, as he -believed, for his very life, at last succeeded in forming an ‘opening sufficiently larire to admit of his-crawl-ing through it, = R ,

T'o fall from tha f to the ground would not be without dm; and should he,in his fall, fracture a limb, he would have added to the cruelty of his fate. : o But the turf beneath was soft and yielding ; he boldly dropped to the ground, and escaped unhurt; and had fled back on the road by which he had been con%qcted to his prison, and had again reached his mother’s side; his'heart had directed him the way that he must travel to find again the shelser of her arms. . ¢ $

" 'We may say, although Arthur eould not know it, that Burford’s intention had been to place Rosalie’s son on board some vessel, which was about to. sail to some very far- - distant port, with an agreement that he should there be very securely left. : - Burford had found a captain little scrupulous, and blasphemed and stamped with rage when returning to the ‘hovel he discovered that his proposed victim had es-. caped him. 7 & : , ; “Listen, dear Arthur,” Rosalie said; «T ‘have decided that within the next foui-and-twenty hours I must quit this place, never to return to it—and with you, Arthur, for my sole companion.” - : - Rosalie’s son verilea.sily made his mother comprehend that his very life was at her ‘disposal, and she exclaimed, with much emotion : : : o ; . “Your life, dear boy ! you now arB all that in this world is left to me; for your sake alone do I now consent to live.” - 0 And Arthur threw his arms around his. mother’s. neck, and fondly and pityingly caressed her. fie o ' “We will fly, Arthur, 6 some obscure corner of ‘the earth where no 6ne may hope to trace us out, and in our love for each other, will forget -the world we must abandon.” : : : “Yes,” Arthur signified, “he was devoted to his mother ; there was nothing she could sommand in which he would not gladly, and with &ll his heart, obey her.”’ : But much of wonder and perplexity was in the look he fixed on Rosalie’s face. And. Rosalie replying to that look, said : “Yes, Arthur, mystery has ' surrounded . you from your very birth, a mystery which | cne day I will make fully known to you—this I may tell you, now: your mother has not to reproach herself that she has given: you life, nor is there. for you, dear boy, a particle of shame minglod with the mystery with which you are enshrouded.” And now, as Rosalie concluded speaking,‘ a servant came to say to her that Mistress Camelford was no longer delirious, was'perfectly lucid, but sinking fast, and was most anxious to behold her cousin to whom she had something of vast importance to come

- A glad smile flitted across Augusta’s face, as she saw her cousin enter the room in which she lay, and holding the hand of Ar. thur, whom ;Rosalie had indeed brought with her in the hope that to behold him: would be a comfort to the last moments of Mistress Camelford. - i

And Rosalie had judged rightly. . “Come nearer to me, Rosalie,” Augusta in' a faint whisper said; and let all withdraw save yourself and—and him !” . . And her filmy gaze was fixed on Arthur, who, pale and trembling, was shrinking closely to his mother’s side. “Reason fdr a few moments, ere I die, has returned to me,”’ said Augusta, her voice with every word growing weaker and more; faint, “that I may make to you the only atonement which, alas! is left within my “power.”’ G n R LG

““A messenger has been despatched to my house to bring thence a small ebony casket, - which is in my private cabinet.”? | | - Again Augusta pansed, and Rosalie said:’ “And what of that casket; cougin?* | “It contains that letter which, years since, you wrote to Clarence Hartley, and which I so wickedly suppressed; will’.be our entire justification when Hartley shall Zome .to know, will be your protection against his anger!” - . oo As Rosalie listened, she resolved that that letter once again in her possession, she would fly, leaving that important document to be read by Hari ¢y after her departure; then would he cease to wonder wherefore she had fled, and would make no effort for her pursuit. St i | After having lain for several minutes in seeming unconsciousness, Augusta again a.rousﬁto'say: aaan e ‘«lf that casket be not very speedily brought, it will not find me living toreceive it—and you, Rosalie must yourself claim, a 1 ' obtain possession of it!” “I shouid not dare,” said Rosalie, “un. | less you had been heard to issue such di- | rections.” ‘ iy g “You shall call back into the room those |

who have been attending me, and I’ will . Rosalie was turning away, about to summon back her cousin’s attendants, when she was stayed by a feeble sign from Augusta, who whispered: =- . . ¢ 0 0 “Wait yet a moment—firstlet me askthat: you will be. merciful to me:in my .last moments, that I may not die without some hope that heaven, too, will pardon‘me . - “I do forgive you, cousin, and pray that heaven, too, may pardon you!’ Rosalie. faintly, but very earnestly said. = + ¢ ' - “Thanks, Rosalie; thanks; and you should forgive me the sorrow I Have .caused you, since I die to atone the sin that I have® wrought {”? - el beEn o e “And after again resting awhile, the wretched woman resumed: = . - .7 “But Gresham, will he, too, pardon me ?. No; I'may not hopeit; and yet, he was. the only being that—on earth; I ever really lOVéd, and I-—-.——” ‘ B TG % :’,; _ -She coﬁd utter no more; for. a few: moments lay motionless and . unconscious, and then, with a feeble gasp, her spirit - fled | away to give acceount of those terrible aets | which in the flesh had been committed:

The cry to which Rosalie gﬁe;utjzemheﬁ brought instantly back into the room those,: who before had been sent from it, as’ well: as others of the household, by whom Rogas. 1&;'1; shnl;ik ha,dh been heard, and dmongst ose who now hurriedly and in great alarm entered, was Chreneegarﬂeyhmaelf. ey ' One glance towards Mistress Camelfora’s couch, and all saw that still and quiet now, ‘and forever, was she whose life had been so turbulent and so restless. ... . » . - I . ‘Asall stood around looking on that, at last, calm face, a servant véry quickly entered the ‘room, bnt ’stopged suddenly, on seeing the'many persons there, ... " He had understood what it. was their presence in that room betokened. . : “What' would you? Why ‘eome you to this chamber 7’ 'Hartley asked, rather sternly. of the man, but yet in that sub-’ dued tone, which arises from 'the .mysteri--ous awe we feel in presenceof the dead. “I bring,” replied the servant, “the ebony cagket which’ I had been. desired by Mistress Camelford to procure from ‘her private cabinet.” | = s

And he held forth the small coffer, and instinctively . Rosalie’s trembling hands were extended to clutch it, but—— -

. “Give it to me!” said Hartley, taking it into his‘own possession. A by ““This casket-"" he continued, ‘“contains, doubtless, Mistress Camelford’s last wishes ; and it is for'me to accomplish them. I will open this ecoffer to-niorrow, and before witnesses 17/ i b e e

. CHAPTER XVI. THE EFFECTS OF SORROW.

Before witnesges! . . ' What terrible words were those for poor Rosalie. Sl e

That fatal letter would then be read before witnesses, who would be made to know her as a bigamist, while- she, the- wife of two living husbands, must sink with shame before . those who. would be without pity for her. S o e e !

Flight that night would ‘be' impossible to her—the whole househdld would be astir. . -

And Hartley ?2—How could she remain to brave his presence when he had:learned the humiliating truth ?. - How find courage to behold his agony—perhaps to. listen to. his upbraidings, for it might be that he. would believe that letter a mere trick: - =~ - Mistress Camelford 'conld not now. confirmigsdrath it e

“But flight for Rosalie before Hartley should have seen that letter, was now impossible, and so she must, endure the dreadful ordeal that was awaiting her. . . - Could Arthur help her? He: was ready for anght that might be demanded of him ! No; he could but pity her, Rosalie said; and then she asked her son if he:remembered that ebony casket. 7 o : Certainly ! The dying lady had said it was for his' mother; that it contained a very important letter; and he had observed how anxious Rosalie had been to: obtain posséssion of that casket; how ‘terrorstricken she had looked when Hartleyhad gecured it to himself. © - S e

“Yes!” exclaimed ~Rosalie; “for :should Clarence Hartley read that:letter, while 1 am yet neas him, I should die, Arthur--1 shouldidie 7 ¢ ee v s Night had again ariived. ~ ' .A single light’glimmered, in the chamber where Mistress Camelford had so lately died, and where naw' her corpse lay cold and stark. - = ° e i S S

A -woman-watcher—well ‘accustomed -to such employment and which;, for her, had long since lost all terror—was seated comfortably in an easy chair, and fasba;_;lgoap: - A window; which looked on the gardens, was slowly. and noiselessly opened by. some one who stepped into theroom. .~ 7 The sudden gust of wind which entered as the window. was thrown: open, extinguished the light which had been ona table near it; and instantly there was tatal darkness within that chamber of death. T _f

Soont, the sleeping woman was aroused by some one jostling against her: and, starting suddenly to her feet, clutched, in the darkness, this midnight intruder.” . " - Scream after scream was pealed forth, penetrating to the ears of every inmate of the mansion, and causing every heart to throb with terrar: .0 ", ~o 2-8 o

_ Notone, of all the household, who did not hurry towards the -chamber whence those shrieks had summoned them. .-~ = =+

.Almost the first to arrive was Hartley, who came in'time to‘arrest young Arthur as, having at length succeeded in . breaking from the woman who had tenaciously clung to him, he was hirrying from the mortuary chamibor, o v iy el el

“A thief!” exclaimed Hartley, snatching from Arthur’s hand the ebony casket which he had been striving to conceal.' Arthur had seen where, in Mistress Cam-~ elford’s -chamber, Hartley had deposited the casket, which was to'be, he said, opened on the morrow, and before witnesses. He had beheld: his mother’s grief, had heard her say of what vast importance to her was the letter within that casket.

... "Carefully concealing his intention from Rosalie, he resolved to obtain that letter. | and save her from that something, he knew not what, which she: so dreaded, and at the mere thought of which he beheld her g 0 intensely wretched. ! et ' He had suceceded in reaching, even .in the darkness, the object of which he had _resolved to obtain possession,: so well had he marked ‘the spot. where the casket had’ been placed by Hartley; but his escapeé withit had been rendered impossible by’ the means which we have just described. - “Wicked, ungrateful boy,” Hartley con--~tinued, surprised and hurt, “you belicviy did you not; that'there weére jewels within this cagkeb?” o up i Axthur stirred not, gave no sign: hut his features were tranquil, he was firm and self-posseased.. o oo LR s T » “1 will have pity on your youth,”’ added Hartley, “but go instantly from thishouse.”’ ‘“No, no, not yet," cried Rosalie, f‘not"‘ thus banished, for he is no thief, merits notthat infamy should rest upon his head.” And then, looking towards Arthur, whom she could not rench-—*“Bless you' darling,”’ she exclaimed, “for that which you have striven b« complimh’? =0 bttt SOl " Hartley was dunb with amazement, and a sm.nga wonder was in theeyes of all who now had listcned-to Rosalie.. - -.- . - “He sought that casket to obtain for me. a letter which he knew was there enclosed,” Rosalie added, and in & moment Hartley had forced open the cagket. = = ¢ - _And then, Rosalie, clutching Hartley's ;m,msaid.v to him imploringly and very “Tn Ihe mame of Heaven, resd not that. letter till we shall be alone.”? ~ -All ‘who there, until this- moment, had looked and listened, now siléntly and won. deringly withdrew.- = . - WSS s ‘ uitted the apartmeut, and Rosalie and Amr&ey’al@m'ef were left withinit. - W - Hesitatingly, tremblingly, his thoughts B L si e e casatt j

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No. 51.

i saw thit it was addressed to ﬁix,hsé‘.f,~and in Rosalie’s hand. L e Yoy

h;;gnt why. thus' strangely delivered: to “He feared to break the seal! = . =~ '

~~ “Read, read,”’ Rosalie faintly said, sink- . ing to her knee, “and Heaven knows that I have not been guilty, and that she ‘alone --was culpable who now lies yonder, still and | cold, bereft of further power for good or “evil here on'earth.” . ' * PR ' The letter was at last opened., Hartley ‘saw that it was dated more than twelve years'back, some weeks before Bgdalie had become his wife; and the ink with which /it had been written had " faded: and grown o ﬁl&—"but not so pale as was ripw the face of - ~him who read those soul-crushing lines to . ~ the last word, and was stunned to.immobil- ' . ity—petrified, aghast with horror. ‘ .He had beensmade to wed the wife ‘of a. “living man, 'the'wife 'of his frierid—his Ro-.-salie-had never rightly belonged to him. + Oh! all was horror—infamy ! el | Three wretched victims, and Mistress . Camelford alone had been guilty, not ‘for one momen?:j had he a doubt of that. - And he kPewj not, and it mattered not to - hin now to know wherefore Mistress Cam“elford had t;mug,ht’ such, terrible evil. : ' But now was Rosalie’s constant sadness all aceounted for ; no wonder she had so seldom smiled upon him, that his most devot“ed love hax ’-{a.i,ledte makg how happy, for - - she been tricked ‘and” forced into: his. | arms, had been uncéasingly mourning the husband and the son she had believed were mouldering in the tomb. ; ; - Clarence Hartley fixéd a lengthened gaze, it was 1o be his last look on Rosalie, who still was on her ‘knee before him, and sigh. - . ing heavily, faltered forth : : ¢ “Farewell, Rosalie;; not long shall I vemain a barrier .to-a happiness which. soon : - for you will be renewed!”’ L : ~ Rosalie now raised -her tearful eyes towards Hartley, and was about to speak, hut “'he waved a despairing farewell to her, and was-gone from her sight. = 1 - - .« ‘Within the next hour he had quitted the house. i i o ] ;

. Soon tidings came that he had purchased 4 commission in 'the army—a continental * war was then raging, and 'in the very first. battle wherein he %md been engaged, he perished. | Life had become utterly %atefulv to him, and he had-sought the battle field ‘aB the casiest and the noblest-way to be rid ofdbod . o o L ; “ . Bat a few words more are néeded to con- . chaderotipgtory:. <o S s - Magter Adami Burford received- not -his most fitting doom, for he escaped the scaffold; but he was sent to leer far away from his own country.for ‘the term of hig natural’life, having been concerned in a poachs ing affray, in which a g’a;g‘lekegper had been ghote = f v a S i Immensely wealthy became Rosalie, and well and nobly did she employ her riches., - Rightly she inherited the fortune left by Mistress,‘iamelfo:d; and which that littlescrapulous lady, had, as.we know, usurped.

- And Clarence Hartley left to her, whom be had solong believed his true and Lwful wife, the vast sums and large cstates of ‘which he had died possessed, with, the cxpressed hope’ that when 'he no longer livqd to tro bfe and to sadden them, Roslie and her gkﬁ, and &ueﬁusﬁgnd would aitin be re-united. S

. And it will not be wondered at thnt Eartley’gl-'generous wish was ultiiatdly silfldled, 3 0 0 e el T - Throughout their tortured lives, ‘midst all that happened ‘to them both, the heart of each had never ceased to mourn the lost .Qom%la.niom:;hip of that lother heart from ‘which so cruelly it had been severed. : - Not they had committed the sin tor ‘which so long. they had been made to sor MOW.- - o ; sl e e o ¢

The Unconstitutionality’ of the Civil v _ Rights Act. ' A Judicial opinion on the new civil rights law has just been given at Meni- | phis, Tennessee, by Judge Emmons, “of the United States Circuit Court, for the district of that State.. The judge holds that the thirteenth’ amendment *to the constitution of 4he United " States' simply put the negroes "“Who “were in slavery upon a footing with the megroes who were free. . The so--cial status of the latter had long been established by usage, and consequently that of the newly emancipated black could not be anything involving new - and extraordinary privileges. The fourteenth amendment adds little to - what is provided in the thirteenth, the only noticeable exception being the provision . that no State shall enagt Jaws which shall abridge the rights and immunities of citizens of tlie United States. - Now, the rights of citizens .of the United States, as guaranteed by the Constitution, are few in number; amorng which may be mentioned %ho;‘ right to pass from one State to anoth--_er; the privileges of the writ of habeas corpus, and one or two others.. The rights -of citizens of States.are equal to and include the rights of citizens -of the United States. Now, before the adoption of the thirteenth and four- . teenth "amendments, each State was expected to punish its own eriminalg aceording to its own laws. Some States have abolished tapital punishment while others,have retained it.— Punishment for murder, arson, trespasses, frauds, injuries to imputation, obstructions to the right of attending church, theaters and the like, has al~ways been within the province of State jurisdiction. - Now, unles 1t be conced~ed that the amendments above refer--red-so-have “revolutionized the whole character of our Government,” then the State still has the right, as it always had previously, to deterthine all’ questions arising as to the rights of its eitizens: in these particulars. If, .-on the contrary, the ~general govern- - ment is permitted to interfere in’oife. ‘instance, it can with equal justice do 80 in all, and the State government is virtually abolished. In short,if'Judge’ - Emmons be correct, the civil rights - law is null and void in so far as it at--tempts to dictate to the several States - of the union just what soeial rights gn(ﬁ' privileges shall be accorded to _citizens of a particular color. The . hew law certainly confers extraordinary rights upon the colored people—rights which the whites do not possess. ‘They are protected by .a special law ‘which'is to transcend the authority of the State governments.— Fort Wayne cHohel, - ST R - .. APrevalent Disease, | - - There is ho disease so prevalent in’ ‘America as dyspepsia dnd’ ce\ﬁ;ain] Y. ~none which has'so generally bafiled - and defeated the skill of the medieal ~ profession. The only remedy for this %@mﬁ& ?ﬁ@ﬂi’ﬁ%ﬁ is a pure medi-- - cated stinmulante,’ astg?ﬁ;'s‘Sti ymach - Bitters, whose essential principle’ is sound rye, is admitted by medical " ;'Wﬁﬁioﬁﬁf@ﬁb&ﬂxlﬁmimw;ative. “aoreetive and rasorative, on Wil phiey’ oan pely. The Bitters arp the o dizziness, waterbrash, irregularity o the bowels, and il inceations bf son firmed dyspepsia. They donolexcite, ‘but sooth the irritg P _stomach and - DOWels, and " .i)v"”,“'lf.’,v‘,. ;"v o]l3 o o imost, delf e e Bessive or~ganization, who, gre unpleasantly afsl Tl eb TR § SRS FER ASR DT - LeCle t,%.?gﬁ'T ‘{g.v. ‘%f‘»nﬂﬁ,, “ ) ‘K'f 1) ? _ulants of comme ‘Hﬁi ‘hough. their effect is most decisive, yet they are so mild and beneficent In opatabion, as gf lult %}gﬁﬁggy%g»‘*%ﬁ 10-W5. -