Rensselaer Republican, Volume 25, Number 8, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 20 October 1892 — CAST UP BY THE SEA. [ARTICLE]

CAST UP BY THE SEA.

nrfsoners tleu- eyes caught those of^theirovn l*BUaq|Breod by order of the both arranged on the *>mo charge, and ia dear and de the prom men t features of the case. '•' dwelling iipoo the salient facts that ioirin a mysterious ’manner on the had that she had seen the same night that the burglary was committed; and that the sum of tw« hundred guineas, which was the #*aet amount stolen from the rec tory, had been discovered concealed, With valuable articles of jewelry, in vm^ secret cave within the house of I***d the prisoners had Risks'of eacholier with strange Stories that required confirmation. Edith having been called as a wit gave her evidence in a plain, straightforward manner that excited Die admiration of tho court. She by declaring her convicher dyinj| father had Intended to give her some’ advice concerning their intimacy as the am/that he had no intention of con- |* this stage proceedings deposition of the sick man, iic requested permission to make a few remarks, as from respect to the court he eoulc no longer allow the case to proceed without laving this Important document before the gentlemen of the juryj I am prepared to prove that the charge against the prisoner is not only false, but that it originated in the conspiracy of a woman named Lee, now dead, whioh has, I am ashamed to declare, been supported by a man who not only occupies a high social position in but who is present moment is a member of the grand jury. The document that I hold in my hand, and which I am about to read to the court to save valuable time and to stay further proceedings.is the actual confesssion of the true murderer, deposed by him when beimagined himself dying, and witnessed by four persons. It *8 «8 IQitOWq 'fi' “I, Thomas Jackson, a dying man. do positively declare upon my oath, as I hope for pardon for my sins fam the murderer of company with one John Cain, since hanged for murder, I broke into the rectory of the said Henry Jones, and effected an entrance by forcing the kitchen wludow. Having stolen in cash a bag containing two hundred guineas, which we took from a writ ing desk, we were disturbed whilst packing up the plate within a blanket by the appearance of the Rev. Henry fired the pistol which shot him down. We then escaped with the money. The burglary was planned by a woman of Sandy Cove, well known as Mother Lee. since dead. She swore falsely that she met Paul and Ned Crrevytogether with a negro named Tim. on the road from the rectory on the night of the murder. Thesa persons are perfectly innocent and knew bothing of the matter, but to save us and to spite those whom she hated, Mother Lee conspired against them. 1 feared to die with this load upon my mind, and about fourteen days ago I sent lu a magistrate to say that I wished to tell him “’Sqaire Stevens, of Herron Hall, was that magistrate. He came to not to be such a fool as to inculpate but to let the law take its coin so. as it would be bettor for me if I .sav,><] my neck and let Paul and Ned (1 rey be hanged instead. He gave me five golden guineas to hold my tongue. llnm tt»d got frightened at night -rhtß T TV alone. I knew the ’squire * was"n aootfndrel, and I oould not wrong Miss Edith by letting her mar ry such a man without some warn SO 1 sent to hei-to m^* te this confesKea I , ' conspiracy,

BY SIR SAMUEL W. BAKFR.

tea substance of his deposition, and pointed out Stevens, to whom ha swore personally. Great excitement was caused in court by this distressing scene; it was hardly quieted when the judge addressed the jury previous to their dismissal. He was a calm, dignified looking man of about fifty-five years of age, tall, with handsome features. : but shaded with a peculiar castof sadness. He requested that the bag of guineas and the trinkets should be handed to him for his inspection. The diamond necklace and locket, together with the rings, and also the parcel of hair that Polly Grey bad saved from the drowned lady were laid before him, while tbe counsel for the defense in a few itords explained how they bad come into the Greys’possession when Ned, as an infant, was washed ashore with I the locket around his neck. The judge examined the trinkets for a few minutes, and turned deadly pale. He then touched a concealed spring In" the locket, of -which Polly had been ignorant; it flew Open, and exposed the portrait of an exceedingly handsome man about thirty, in a cavalry uniform; this strongly resembled the judge. “What is the matter with his lordship? Bring water!” said several voices, as the judge, having opened the parcel that contained the long fair hair, fell back on his seat for the moment overpowered by faintness. Water was quickly brought, and recovering his calmness by a great effort, be looked fixedly at Ned Grey for some minutesin silence. “Edward Grey," he at length said, “retire with tbe usher to my private room." Ned Grey shortly found himself alone in the judge’s private chamber. ~ Excusing himself for a few minute on the plea of Indisposition, the judge left tbe court, and entered the room where Ned remained alone. Advancing directly toward him, he seized both his hands, and, as he stared intently in his face, the tears rolled down nis cheeks. Suddenly clasping him in his arms, the judge pressed him fervently to h:s breast as be exclaimed, in an agony of intense feeling, “My son! my child! cast up by the sea! At last I know your poor mother’s fatal This is her own dear hair; the necklace-the rings, all were hers; the locket, with my portrait, I gave her on our wedding day. She left for England with you, an infant, on the Calcutta Indianman; the ship was never heard ! of. and until now I never knew her fate. You are Edward Neville—not Edward Grey. My own child! my son!" ■ CHAPTER XXIII. Katherine Neville, Ned’s un fortune and lovely mother, had been forced by ill health to leave her husband in India after the birth of her first child, the hero of this story. At that time Sir Charles Neville was a cavalry officer in the East India Company’s army, but after the mysterious disappearance of the vessel ic which his young wife and child were lost he had become melancholy and had given up the army. Returned to England, he entered at the bar and distinguished himself by extraordinary ability, until he at length became a judge. The early sorrow of his life had made a deep impression upon him, from which he had never recovered. He was a man of large fortune, who had inherited the title and estates from his father, who was a baronet in the county of Devon; thus Ned, as we must still call him, suddenly found himself a man of both mean's and position. The sessions were over, and Sir Charles Neville now formed one of the party at the rectory of Stoke, as Ned had confided to him his affection for Edith, to whom he could have no possible objection; in fact, he was perfectly delighted with her good qualities, which, in addition to her beanty, brought her as near to perfection as any woman could attain. | Sir Charles Neville’s first visit was to the churchyard of Stoke, where he found the simple inscription on the stone cross above his young wife's grave, which he shortly changed, as the mystery of the “lady unknown" had been dispelled. lie accompanied Ned to Sandy Cove, where Paul and Polly Grey had already taken possession of the pretty old cottage on the cliff; there he sat upon the terrace wall and listened to tbe sad stery of the wreck, as Polly described that fatal night, and pointed out the spot where she and Paul had discovered his pretty young wife floating drowned upon the surface, with her long fair hair they had at first mistaken for seaweed. A few days after he hod visited Sandy Cove, Paul Grey and Polly received a letter from Sir Charles Neville expressing his warm acknowledgments for all the parental kindness they had shown his son Ned when friendless and destitute, and informing them that a sum of three thousand pounds was lodged to Paul Grey's credit in the bank at Falmouth, whioh he trusted would in some measure testify his admiration of their generosity, and render them indepenaent for the remainder of . their lives. j This s udden and unexpected wealth hardly compensated Polly Grey for I tbe loss of Ned, whom she loved as her son, and who now would most probably leave the neigborhood of bis old'home. Neither could Ned quite enjoy his new position without a feeling of regret at the startling j change. He had received from Polly 1 tbe care and affection of a mother, which he retained as wormian d tudethat he owed Jo her. I In fke tnaan 1.1 ID A Tomeo ftiATMIS

waa insulted continually in the streets. Hislife wasa constant tor he-bad loved Edith to desperation: be had been scorned ter her; she was now in the arms of his'rival, who, no 11 longer the foundling Ned Grey, was heir to his father's titles and estates. It wss a lovely day in spring, as warm as midsummer; the bright green leaves had clothed the trees with their new-born foliage: thebawthorn was in full blossom; the bluebells, and primroses on the banks, and the wild roses in the hedges, gave a hopeful glow to the scene, as nature seemed to rejoice that tbe icy fetters of winter were broken and she was once -more free to revel in her beauties. It was a time when all should have been happy; there was a peaceful calm in the soft air, broken onle by the songs of the skylark and other birds that sang joyfully among the tall trees. The motherly bens, proud of their young broods, busied themselvos in a quest for insects for the newly-hatched cbiekens; goslings, like balls of golden down, floated upon the ponds of the. farmyards ; young foals gamboled in the fields, which resounded with the bleatings of the now hardy iambs, and the earth had awakened to the command, “ Increase and multiply. ” Could any one be unhappy in such a scene?

It was the morning, and James Stevens walked hastily to and fro on the broad terrace before his mansion that commanded a view of the sea, with the tall spire of the village of Stoke sheltered in the vale, about three miles distant. All was beautiful and calm in nature, but there was no peace within his heart. His face was haggard with care, and deep lines already furrowed his features, while a gloomy frown had settled upon his brow. There was a mighty oak upon the lawn, whose gnarled branches cast a shadow far and wide: beneath this tree was a rustic seat, upon which Stevens presently sat for a few minutes,and then rose again in his restless humor. He started. “Ha !" he said, “the bells! ail happy but myself. Death and confusion seize them 1 They are the Stoke church bells 1 He marries her this morning ; and I am lost, despised, trampled down, disgraced, and my enemy triumphs! ” In the mean time, while his evil spirit held possession of him, and he brooded savagely over his defeat, all was joy and happiness at Stoke. It was the day for Edith's marriage. The church bells were ringing merrilr. aad the village people were gayly dressed in their best clothes, while the approach from the rectory to the church was ornamented with triumphal arches of leaves and flowers ; the pathway through the churchyard was. carpeted and thickly strewn with sweet scented blossoms, and lined on either side by rows of prettily dressed children, all of whom loved Edith and delighted in the happiness of the day. Ned was already standing in the church, accompanied by Captain Smart, who acted as bridegroom’s man. The noise of many wheels was heard, and the string of carriages approached, as Edith, having alighted, was received with cheers from the assembled throng of village children, as she was led by Sir Charles Neville along the flowery pathway. Never had she looked so lovely, and as Ned received her at the altar, before which they knelt together, the blessings of the multitude were expressed in simple but earnest words, “ God spare them to live happily together 1 ” “One cheer more," shouted Captain Smart, as with his only remaining hand he waved his cap above his head, and led tho “ Hip ! hip ! hip ! hurrah!" The happy day waa nearly over; the guests were gone, and only Mr. Banks, the clergyman who hadofficiated, remained. Ned called him on one side.

**My dear sir, ’’ said he, “to me this is a day of such true and perfect joy, after all the difficulties and dangers of my life, that I can not rest so long as I have an enemy whom I have not forgiven. There is one whom you know—James Stevens, the squire—who has through life, even from early boyhood, hated me with an uncalled for intensity, although I would have made him my friend. Act for me as a peacemaker, I pray you. Go to him and tell him from me that I will forget every injury, and I trust that the past may be forgotten on both sides. Say' to him that I stretch out my hand, and let him receive it in sincerity." The good natured clergyman would hear of no delay, but, nappy in the office of peacemaker, he returned home, and mounting his pony, he rode at once to Heron Hall. On arrival at the entrance lodge he had to dismount to open the gate, as the porter and his family were enjoying themselves in the the village, where a grand feast for all comers had been prepared by Mrs. Jones. Having passed through, he rode up the long avenue of elm-trees until he arrived at the oak upon the lawn, the branches of which overhung the carriage-drive. As the moon shone through the tree, it cast a horrible shadow upon the ground before the horse’s feet; the animal shied, and nearly gave the clergyman a falL At this moment an owl upon (he boughs gave a shrill and wild “too hoo, too hoo, too hoo, too hoo-o o-o !” The pony startled, turned sharp round, and threw its rider heavily upon the lawn beneath the tree, while he galloped off in the direction of the village. Mr. Banks, half stunned and giddy with the fall, rose from the ground. He was not naturally superstitious, but he had an indescribable feeling of something terrible. There was an old swing upon the oak, and the oreak of the iron hook now jarred in bis ear as the wing swung it to and fro. He started at a shadow on the ground. It looked like a human being suspended by the neck to a naked and withered branch. He looked up, and the first object that met his view was the body of a man hanging from one o« the ropes that had formed th l?7 iDg \J ho a ooljr a LkF* ““S 0 ™ 2d*&ati h *

“A ladder and a knife!" cried the clergyman. “Wlmre ia tbeSquirer Stoke," replied the astonished servant; “Quick with the knife and ladder! A man has hung himself on the oak tree!" continued Mr. Banks. In a few minutes several servants with a knife and a ladder, had accompanied him to the oak, and tbe rope being quickly severed, the,body was let down. A cry of horror and surprise was uttered by all present as they recognized the swollen and discolored features of James Stevens.

Nearly two years bad "passed away since* that fatal night. The rectory once more resounded with the shouts of merry boys, as Mr. Banks had married Mrs. Jones, and kept a school. The cottage’on the cliff at Sandy Cove had been much beautified and refurnished. There was a large porch, fitted with seats and shaded with woodbine and sweet clematis; here Paul Grey dgligbted to sit with his still handsome wife, and smoke his pipe on a long summer evening, and talk over old times as he'looked upon the sea. It was then that the well known step was often heard, and Joe Smart appeared as io days ot old; and the-two friends, who loved each other like twin brothers, would chat over tbe adventurous deeds of their youth, while Polly knitted and listened untiringly to their oft-re-peated tales. There was a pretty, smart-looking luggei'ancborea in the bay, much resembling the old Polly, and christened with her name. Now that Ned Grey was gone, this vessel was Paul’s only child. Often would he cruise with his old friend Joe Smart, and he delighted to point out to the revenue officers the places where he had run a cargo, and tell how the old Polly had dodged the government cruisers and laughed at their fastest cutters.

“Ah, those were good old times,’ 1 Paul would exclaim, as he laughed at his friend Smart. “The old Polly was a saucy boat, that was too sharp for even a certain Captain Smart of his Majesty’s coast guard.” Ned and Edith lived happily with Sir Charles Neville at Elmley Court, his seat in Devon, whence they sometimes went to visit tbe cottage at Sandy Cove, to the great delight of Paul and Polly Grey. It was a lovely day in August, the anniversary of that' when Ned as an infant had been washed ashore. He and Edith were expected at the Cove. The carriage wheels were heard upon the cliff, and Polly rushed out upon the terrace to meet her anxiously awaited guests. Edith had a treasure that she longed to exhibit to her old friend, Polly Grey. It was her first child, a boy about four months old; she had christened it Edward Gray Neville. Descending the zig-zag path with the child in her arms, wrapped in a warm shawl, Edith followed Ned, and then ascending from the little village by the steep footway, she arrived on the terrace in front of the old cottage. After the first loving greeting, Polly, who considered herself the graiidmother of Ned’s child, hastily withdrew the shawl from the face qf the lovely infant and took it in her arms. Gently kissing its sleeping face, she regarded it attentively for some moments and then exclaimed: “Three and twenty years have passed away this very'day, and they seem but as yesterday! Here is the child! the same in face and age as that little Ned Grey that I pressed to my breast and nursed as my own—a blessing from God to my childless home—a son cast up by the seal" THE END.