Rensselaer Gazette, Volume 2, Number 5, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 2 June 1858 — Original Tale. [ARTICLE]

Original Tale.

INKLINGS OF IDLEVILLE.

WRITTEN EXPRESS I. Y FOR THE RENSSELAER OAEETTE, BY QUIZ.

(continued.)

The dwarf uttered a laugh of satisfaction, for Mr. Wise startled from his seat, but in a moment almost had resumed his wonted composure. V \ “Do you dare "attempt to intimidate me into undertaking your defence. Your story, considering our relative-positions, would not pass current. You may count on my having you condemned, if possible,” he continued after a moment’s pause, and rising to leave the cell. “Don’t be in a hprry,” said Durell, as the lawyer was nearing the door, but he did not need the invitation! to remain. “Have you examined the secrelt drawer of your writing desk of late ?—ah! ]ha? I have touched you at last have I !” continued- he as lus hearer suddenly turned and stepped toward the bed; his face pale as deaths and with lips close set. As quickly, hew ever, he endeavored to conceal his emotion- “Why do you seek to trifle with nip,” stijll continued the dwarf, “I am in possession of your secret, and the proof of your guilt-I—clear me from this difficulty, and I will surrender the papers.” “It was you who jentered my house a short time back !” queried the lawyer, halting at' the foot of the bed. “Yes it was, and I obtained what I went for,” answered the other, who had not changed his position from the first. “Then make thedaest of them,” and with a sneer the lawyer turned on his heel to depart. i; “Stop, again,” said Durell, “you forget I told you there was a witness to the deed you committed ; his evidence I can get at any time. The fact of you having adopted the law instead of medijeine as your profession ; the lapse of time ; change of name and appearance, will avail! you nothing.” “Who are you!”i asked Mr. Wise, in a' hoars® voice, as returning he approached within arm’s length:of Durell. “No matter who I am—you know my wishes—accede to my demands, or you shall be exposed.’? “Have you the papers with you 1” inquired the lawyer, his eyes fixed earnestly upon tha dwarf, and his fingers clutching nervously.

“No difference—l promise you they shall be given up the hour I am cleared." “And if I Bhould fail I” “I’ll expose you, then. I must be cleared, and by you,” replied Durell decisively. “The evidence against you is overwhelming; from what I have learne'U, it would be difficult, if not impossible, to render you much assistance.” “You must clear me, nevertheless.” “I will!” The response was scarely above a whisper, and the next moment Durell felt his throat grasped by a powerful hand, and saw the glaring eyes of the enraged lawyer looking down into his own. He struggled desperately to free himself, but in vain ; the grip of his antagonist was firm aind unrelax>ng. The struggling became less violent by degrees; the eyes were starting almost.from their sockets, and the tongue protrudihg; the limbs became rigid, at length all was quiet, yet the desperate man still retained his hold, looking savagely down into the distorted face, more hideous as revealed by the pale lightof the c-usted wick. Moment followed moment, and not till the form before him was cold did the murderer remove his hand. Nervously he felt over the body; searching the pockets and examining each portion of the dead man’s garments where might be secreted what to him was dear almost as fife. But no papers were to be found. He felt something hard resting upon the dwarf’s thrusting his hand under the soiled shirt drew forth the miniature ca-se. A slight jerk snapped the cord which suspended it. He held ft up to the light. If 'he spiritof his unfortunate victim had arisen from his long sleep to accuse him of his crime, he could not have been more appalled, as he gazed upon the mild, intellectual features traced upon the ivory. He turned the case, and upon the other side, sailing sweetly, and with beauty marking each lineament, was the picture of the wife. Tbo well remembered were both by the. guilty wretch. He pressed his hand against his brow, the bauble fell from his-grasp, and he clutched the rude table for support. “Both father and son !” and without looking toward the couch, he a mnrni nt after gathered his cloak about him, and withdiis hat drawn over his brow, hurried from the cell. Passing the turnkey in the passage without notice, he reached the open air. The cold atmosphere was refreshing, yet he walked with rapid strides toward his home, which having reached die made his way to his study .and threw himself into the chair which he had left but an hour before. It seemed as fate had so ordained, but to odd one crime to another of equal magnitude. * Scarcely haJf an hour had elapsed when he was aroused from the harrowing reverie into which he had fallen, by the violent ringing of the door bell. His conscience told him the mission of a visitor at hour, and a few moments after his wife entered with the information that the turnkey was below and demanded admittance. “Is he alone I” s “No, there is another with him.” “Tell him I will be down in a few moments.” His wife gazed at him a moment and noticing tlje pallor of his face, inquired if he was ill. A brief negative was the only reply and she retired. When the door was closed he felt a moment in his vest, and drew forth a small vial, scarce of sufficient size to contain a thimbleful, but which was filled with a colorless liquid. He held it a minute to the light, and drnwingpthe cork, while a sneer parted his lips, muttered : “They shall not humble me,” was on the eve of raising it to his mouth, when a noise at the door attracted his attention. Looking around he beheld his child. His thumb nnd forefinger concealed the vessel, and he inquired coldly what she wished. She informed him the officers were growing impatient at his delay. “Bring them' up, child, in ten minutes. Come now, Edith,” he continued, as she was about retiring. As she approached he reached out his hand to take that of his daughter, upon the back of it was a single red stain. He saw it; started back from the child, and motioned her to leave the room. When she had gone he placed the vial without hesitation to his lips, emptied and threw it into the ashes. In ten minutes the study wherein the haughty Montaign had passed so many hours, shut out from communication with those even who should have been dear to him, was entered by the minions of the law. Hours he had spent'there, which, perhaps, had crowded into their brief space the misery of a whole life misspent. They found him with eyes immoveably fixed upon the flames, and hands clutching the arms of his chair. The features were placid; even the contraction of 4he brows had given place to a smeoth front. The rich man was dead.

The doctor shook his head gravely, and hinted about “affection of the heart.” Tears of sorrow fell, but they ceased in time. The sun rose and set regularly as before; people moved and acted as o r old.- He was but a mite among the countless throng. CHAPTER XXIX. .Man, vine, supported, lives; The strength he gains is from the embrace he givesPop*. One morning, a few weeks after the exhibition, Mr. Crimple was engaged over some papers in the little apartment jie termed his “study,” when he was interrupted by a knock at the door. Bidding tlie person enter, his protege immediately inade his appearance. i “Excuse me, father, I did npt know you were particularly engaged,” sa>id lie, noticing the old gentleman’s occupation, and hesitating at the entrance. ! - “Come in, my boy; I’ll be through in a few minutes; I desire to speak with you, at any rate.” Without a farther invitation, the young man picked up a book and threw himself into a chair by the open window. He glanced over the pages, turning them listlessly, and finally, ceasing altogether, fixed his attention to the clustering vines Creeping up by the casement, plucking their leaves and tearing them to pieces/ Mr. Crimple continued his examination for half an hour or more without noticing him. Having concluded, with the papers sti 1 before him, he spoke to the youth]: “Well, George, have you anything very particular to communicate!” he asked, as the other turned round and approached the ,old gentleman’s desk. “I wish to speak to you upon a subject that has for some time claimed my attention. Its importance you can best judge when you have heard me." “Very probable; you look serious enough at the present time, however, to impress me with ideas of a funeral or something worse.” “The matter is serious, sir; to me, at least.” “Indeed!” and the old gentleman e/eyated his eyebrows and became attentive,,*ast, he said ‘l‘proceed.” “I think ,” the young man began, but' broke down immediately. “Gieorge,” and the old man assumed a tone he could render grave when necessary, “if you have anything to confide in me, do it at once, and don’t think fora moment you will incur my displeasure by being frank. If you have committed any. indiscretion, “It is ftqthing of that sort, sir,” he interrupted. “Tywas about to remark that I thought it me to be engaged in some business to make myself of some use. Though it would be impossible for me, should I work out my entire days in your service, to repay you for the kindness and fatherly attention I have received at your hands, I deem it but proper that I should do all in my power to indemnify you. You took me an orphan, raised and educated me. I am now fitted to work my own way; and it would be ungenerous, unbecoming a man, to tresspass longer upon your goodness. I hope you fully understand and appreciate the motion that has prompted jnc in this declaration, and will assist me with your counsel.” - Mr. Crimple looked at him attentively till he concluded, and then, grasping die youth’s hand, pressed it warmly. “I do appreciate the motive, my boy, and am pleased to see you possess sO much independence. I had hoped, hovvdver, to retain you here, and that you would continue to look upon me as of old; at the same time I knew it would be but natural for you to feel as you do. As to my advice, you can have what I am capable of giving you.” “To thank you, sir, seems but a cold word to express my feelings. I must ask some other means to manifest my gratitude. That I shall ever look upon you and your lady with the affection of a son, ] hope you will not doubt. As to my leaving you, nothing was further from my intention. I have no desire ever to part from your roof, but only to make myself servicable under it.” “I am too well pleased to hear your conclusion on these points. Listen to me a few minutes and you will learn that I am under infinite obligations to you. Don’t look surprised, for it is even so. Your conduct, from the first day I took you under my charge, has been a constant source of gratification, more complete than I could hav; hoped; and that in itself has more than compensated me for the little trouble-—if it enn be so termed—occasioned. Aside from that, your being with me, saved me, about a year since, from ruin.” “Ruin!” repeated his listener in amste-

ment, gazing incredulously at his protector, “how can that be!” “In this manner: Not quite tern years since I received a letter from a lawjler in the South, relative to yourself and parentage. Thinking that the business of wTiliffl it purported could be better attended in person. I repaired thither, learned the affairs of your family, and then was legally confirmed your guardian.” „ “My parents, then, are dead! I had hoped—but no matter—who were they, sir! and when did they die!” inquired George, anxiously. “At one time near the wealthiest family ,of . Your mother died shortly after jyour birth; your father followed her in less | than three ye ws, leaving you in charge ol an elder brother.” r “And he ” ’ H “Was the dark stranger whom you remember followed you from school once 'when you were a child; and of whom you ! had spoken previously . His name was | Wilber.” “And what of him? does he yet live!” “He, also, is dead. Almost with his last! breath, having received momentary con- ! sciousness, he confided to his attendant the history of his broken trust, and where vou | were to be found. This information com- i rtounicated to his attorney, that gentleman wrote to me concerning y u; and, as I before stated, I waited upon him in person. The estate left by your father was very much encumbered; but when all settlements were made, about fifty thousand dollars, much more than was anticipated, remained. That amount you are now master of; and for the last ten yeans, you see, you have been using your own money.” “But how came I instrumental in saving you Irom ruin! Ido not comprehend that.” ; Simply enough. Nearly a year since, as I said before, through theffailure of several houses with whom I had large dealings, I was on the point of bankruptcy. The j embarrassed state of money affairs, which was very great at the time,'prevented me,! by the usual means, obtaining what. I i needed, my difficulties being whispered on j ’change. There was no risk torun?h.ap- ! plying your funds to my own use, for theyy; were doubly sufficient; and these if overreached at all, are conquered speedily.- So, in a lew weeks, my business was going smoothly on again, and I am now prepared, though you are not qu T te of age, to render an account of my stewartship. So you see I am also under obligations 1 to you.” “I beg leave to differ with you on that point, sir. It was not through me, but your own kindness; ye-ur heart warmed toward the poor, homeless wanderer; you generously took him to your own fireside: and had it not been for that, I perhaps would not have found a father, nor he help in time of greatest need.” “You make too much of what most any one would have done. I dare say if I had not taken you in charge, some one else would. I only happened to be there first.” “The odds are too many against ” “Well, no matter, we will not say any more about it; but return to the opening subject. You desired, my advice, and are acquainted with your own circumstances sufficiently to know, .perhaps, what you would best like to pursue. The means will justify you in adopting most any business, or none at all, if you wish to be idle and live economically. But whatever you conclude upon, do it with a determination to the avocation steadily. You had better not make up your mind in too great a hurry, lest you have cause to regret afterward.” “I you at once: I should like to study law. It is more congenial to my taste.” “It is an excellent profession—few better; but one must work to obtain anything like a prominent positiqn; for there are many able men engaged in it; and, unless you ean reach a great hight, you will find it unprofitable. Yon will have master minds to compete with, then.” “For the very reasons you state I should like it the more; Ihere would be something to strive for, and I am. certain ot! success.” “Few men undertake anything with cither feelings than those that promise success, and they find sometimes, too late, that fihey have been relying on chimeras. Do hot choose hastily.” v “Others have succeeded far beyond their expectations, perhaps, and why cannot I?” “You can, no doubt; if you possess the resolution and firmness of character necessary to go through with the undertaking. You have Other gratifications beside a fair to fit you for the profession; the latter, some of our best statesmen, yon are

aware, obtained under the most trying circumstances, going through difficulties which you would, perhaps, recoil from as.jmpossibleffo surmount. Do not look at the elevjlfon they have attained withouEtaking Into consideration the labor they have undergone t-o attain it. Reflect a little longeron the matter, and let me know in a couple of weeks what conclusion you may come to.” “You will find it the same as at present, I think,” answered George, with an expression which satisfied Mr. Crimple that the young man had decided. “If you will, you can make the arrangements for getting m» into an office. In the meantime I’ll take a trip to the country.” “What are you going to the country for? and in which direction!” inquired Mr. Crimple, Abiding up and putting away his papers. \“To Idlevilie, to find, if possible, the good wiiman who helped me on the road, and reward her for the kind action; and also, that old enemy of mine; I have a curiosity to see amd talk with him;” and Master George took (ymself off.

IX XEXT XUMBEE.)