Rensselaer Republican, Volume 18, Number 16, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 24 December 1885 — THE DEADLY TIMEPIECE. [ARTICLE]

THE DEADLY TIMEPIECE.

BY MORRIS REDWING.

It was while journeying through Wales on business of a nature that I need not here explain, that I met with the adventure I am about to relate. One windy, gloomy day in the month of March, I found myself riding on horseback through a hilly country in the south of ‘Wales. Not many houses were to be met wrth in this region, and I was now willing to accept the assertion that the road between Ballenock and Glenwall was as gloomy and disagreeable a stretch as it had over been my lot to encounter, and I have traveled a great deal in the years that are gone. Shadows qf approaching night were falling in the valleys, and I began to look anxiously for a wayside inn, where I could find shelter for the night. In vain I strained my eyes. Naught but gloomy hills, barren and rock-ribbed, met my gaze on either hand.

While meditating on the loneliness of the situation, I was startled by a lond scream, coming, apparently, from a little gulch that cut the hills in twain, just in advance and on the left of my path. I urged my tired beast forward, and gained a spot opposite the opening, when a female form dashed out and gained the road, running with all speed, I caught a glimpse of a face white with mortal terror, as well it might be, for directly behind the female, and not many paces in the rear, dashed a mongrel cur, his jaws dropping spume, his eyes flaming red and terrifying. Instantly I took in the situation. The dog was mad! At every bound he gained on the panting, frightened female, and it seemed a question of but a few seconds when the fangs of the mad brute would be fastened in her flesh. With the quickness of thought I drew my revolver and leveled it at the side of the mad cur. Instantly after the flash and report, I looked over at the dog.who had just crossed the road. My aim had been true, the brute was there, writhing in the agonies of death. The female saw the work I had wrought and instantly fell on her knees, crossed herself, and' offered some sort of a prayer of thankfulness ere she ventured to approach the spot where I had drawn rein. She was not an uncomely lass of, I judged, 20 years. She was not profuse in thanks, but she pressed my hand and' 1 expressed herself as very grateful. I realized that toy opportune shot had saved her from a horrible fate, a fact of which she was fully aware, and when I asked if a tavern was near, she said in fair English: “No public house, sir, but my brother keeps travelers Sometimes.” Then she glanced up at the sky. “It will soon be dark; will you come to our house?” “How for is it from here?”

“Not a mile that way,” and she pointed to the west. This would take me somewhat out of my course, yet I resolved on accepting the girl’s invitation and accompany her Lome. See seemed to recover from her fright most suddenly, and refused to ride when I proffered my horse for her use. "No, I am used to walking.” That was all, and I did not urge the matter. During the way she scarcely spoke, and I soon discovered that she preferred to remain silent, being of a morose disposition naturally I thought. -tThe girl’s home was a gloomy-looking ■tone cottage built against the side of a rocky hill. A narrow road passed in front of it and a little distance from the house was a stable in which my horse found shelter. A middled-aged. low-browed man met me at the door, and expressed a willingness to furnish me shelter for the night. “We hain't the best of accommodation,” •aid the man, “but you won’t starve, nor lose any sleep on account of a leaky roof. Everybody sleeps sound atthis house, sir.” “I did not like the appearance of this man. Like his sister he had a somber cast of countenance, but he seemed more willing to talk, and once inside he drew a benoh to the fire for me, occupying one end himself, and entered at once into an animated conversation, inquiring about the object of my journey, exhibiting a curiosity that would have done credit to a Yankee woman. This garrulity I felt sure was foreign to the man's nature And I was puzzled to know the cause. Only once did I see the girl, Olma, during the evening, and that was when she brought in my supper, for which I had created an appetite during a longer jaunt than ushal between meals. When the hour for retiring came, a key and candle were placed in. my hands, and a door opened that revealed a stairs leading to the room above, a ~which the house contained bat one.

"You will lock your door and bolt it,” said the man with a forced smile, that sat unpleasantly on his face. "Sometimes robbers have been known to enter houses in this vicinity. I want you to feel safe." Audi could not feel otherwise when I came to examine the room above. One window alone admitted light through the foot of a stone wall, and as the door below was the only means of entrance to the chamber, which I had locked and bolted, it seemed to me thnt I had an impregnable fortress all to myself. There was one object thnt attracted my attention when I first entered the chamber, and that was the enormous crock that stood at the far end. It was imbedded in the wall, and was like unto the clocks of the early New Englanders, only of greater proportions. It was nearly ten by the clock, high time that I was in dreamland, for I was greatly fatigued. The old clock ticked loudly, its honest face seeming to smile out at me from behind its hands'. i I smiled when I regarded it, for the feeling of gloominess vanished under the soothing influence of the old clock’s ticking. There is company in a clock as well as in a pipe, and I felt almost as peaceful and, nappy as I would in my own far-away American home. Removing my clothing, I crept into bee, placing my small leather valise on the floor near the head. Then 4 1 lay for; Some minutes listening to the so “emu ticking of (he clock. It was soothing ill its effects. I had not yet extinguished the light, but lay so that I could watch the old clock's face and dream of home and friends across the wide Atlantic. Of a sudden a strange thing occurred. A queer feeling took-possession of me. Some invisible power seemed drawing me toward that monster clock in the corner. In vain I attempted to throw off the feeling. At length, when powerless to resist the impulse longer, I sprang up, and seizing the light, approached the queer old timepiece. When within a few feet of the old clock I saw a strip of white paper hanging down over the glass covering to the face. It was this then that looked so queer from my position on the bed. I lifted the paper, a narrow slip, turned it over, and, to my surprise beheld writing in an irregular hand, and in English. “You saved my life. I am not, ungrateful. Watch the clock if you would not died' The communication was a startling one. Undoubtedly the girl, Olma, had penned the words for my benefit. "What reason had she to suppose that I would examine the clock and find this warning. Doubtless she reckoned on my curiosity, since so large a time-piece would naturally attract attention.

A queer sensation, perhaps it was feay, passed through me as 1 tried the door of the old clock. It refused to yield, and after a little time lost in vain speculation I went back to the bed, but not to sleep. I was now thoroughly awake and as thoroughly alarmed. Putting on my clothing I drew forth my revolver, a weapon I always carried W-hile traveling, and extinguished the light. Then I crawled behind the bed, and with weapon cocked for instant use, awaited developments. Tick-tock went the clock, and the monotonous sound once more lulled my senses, and I was fast dropping into a doze, when a sound startled me and sent the blood bounding through my veins. Instantly I was on the alert. I listened intently, every nerve strained to its utmost tension. What was it that had so aroused my halfdormant senses. Ha! I have it now 1 . The clock had stopped! „ - A moment later I heard the creak of a door, folknved soon after by the sound of a stealthy tread. Whatever danger threatened was imminent now. The step moved forward, the stealthy tread of a human foot! Nearer and nearer it came, and paused at length beside the bed. A moment of suspense, then came a cling! Unit shook the bed. An instant later a low cry, a hiss of rage and disappointment, and then a bright light illuminated the scene. To my dying day I shall not forget what that light revealed —a man bending over the couch clutching the hilt of a large knife, the point of which he had driven through the bed, and which had been intended for my heart. The look that rested on the man’s face was fiendish in the extreme. I rose and confronted the demon with cocked revolver. Behind him stqod Olma with a dark lantern, whose light she had Hashed over the scene. An instant the man glared at me, and then, with an oath of savage rage, he ierked his knife free and dashed madly into tfie face of my deadly six-shooter. I pressed the trigger. A flash and report- followed, and the would-be murderer lay a bleeding corpse at my feet. Then I turned my weapon upon Olma, for I knew not if she were friend or foe. s'* < “Wait,” she commanded, quickly, and coollv. “You found my warning?” “I did.”

“Then wo are even. I wanted to save your life, but dared not let him know of my intention,” _ ~ She pointed at the dead outlaw as she spoke. “I will tell my story briefly," she continued. “I have been connected with this man for years, in acts of murder and robbery. Yes, it is true, my hands , are red with hpman blood. Many travelers have been lured here to their doom by toe; their bodies are buried under the house, and we have thrived from their gold. You, also, would have formed one of them down there but for what you did to-day. I did not wish you to die. This man was my husband, and lam not sorry he is dead —I hated him! One favor, Task of you, only; do not set the officers on my track until morning, and I am content.” / I made the required promise add-she departed, not by the door, but into the clock. I was deeply curious. Lighting my candle I went to the now open clock, and found that a narrow opening in the wall led to an underground room by means of a rope ladder. This was the mystery" of the clock. From below, the assassin passed up through the huge clock to the chamber above and easily disposed of the unsuspecting traveler. I left the the horrible den at once, regaining the main road, and continued my journey, reaching Glenwall I.by the middle of the forenoon. Here, to the authorities I told my story, and a posse was at once dispatched to the old house. I was detained in Glenwall some time to appear as a witness against the fiend-woman whose hands were red with many self-confessed murders. She was not found, however, and it was afterward surmised that she hadcommitted suicide in some lonely spot to escape the vengeance' of outraged law. Many years have passed since my night experience in the room of the mysterious clock, but even now, when I think of that time, a cold shudder comes over toe, and I am truly thankful that I have not to experience again another night of such horror. London milliners ire making a specialty of colo ed caps in velvet and other materials to -Correspond with costumes for autumn wear. The foot of the owner ft the best manure for his land. -