Rensselaer Union, Volume 5, Number 27, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 March 1873 — UNDER SUSPICION. [ARTICLE]

UNDER SUSPICION.

THK ARREST. “Uncle Joseph, will you see to the uggage ?” ‘'Certainly, madam,” I replied, I always called my brother’s second wife* “madam;” we never quarreled, but each thought the other the most disagreeable person in _the_univcrse; and as we each knew what the other thought, iffnay be imagined that our intercourse was not of a very cordial kind. I did see to the luggage, and took their tickets for the York express by the Great Northern Railway. Fortunately we had a compartment so ourselves—that is, Mrs. Webster, my niece Clara, and myself. c “Glara, my dear, you look as ill as you can look; no one would think that tomorrow was your wedding day.” “Do I look ill, mamma?” said Clara, dreamily. “Yes, my dear, and wretched, too. I wonder you’ve not more sense at your age, a girl of twenty-five, and breaking her heart for love of a man who for four years has taken not the slightest notice of you.” “Why, it was one of the conditions, Mrs. Webster, that he should not write,” I exclaimed. Clara said nothing, but looked her thanks at her old uncle, “However, Uncle Joseph, he ought to have come back and taken his dismissal quietly. I have no patienGC with these poor men blighting a girl’s chances of getting well settled in life in this way. However, thank goodness, it’s all over now; the four years are goue this three months, and to-morrow she will be the happy wife of a man whose age will command your respect, and whose position will secure you every comfort.” “And, mamma, whom nothing on earth but my solemn promise to my poor dear father would make me call luishand.” “Well, my dear, it’s fortunate for your future interests that you made that promise. I’m sure that Mr. Tredgar is a man after my own heart. If I hadn’t other views for my children’s sake, I should have set my own cap at him myself.” “I’m sure, madam, Mr. Tredgar would feel only too much honored if he knew your sentiments; the candid avowal of them is, I think, highly calculated to add to Clara’s happiness, under existing circumstances." “Well, you know, Uncle Joseph, I am candid to a fault.” “Decidedly, madam, most decidedly,” I replied; a remark which caused Mrs. Webster to read a yellow-covered novel for some time in silence, though shortly afterwards she dropped asieep. Clara stole to my side of the carriage, and leaned her head on my shoulder. “ Oh, Uncle, I wish I were dead; can it be so very wrong to die? I am so wretched; I dread to-morrow. Oh, why will not God pity me and take aWay my ife?” “My dear Clara, don’t, there’s a good child; it’s wicked to talk in this wayV life must be borne; I have felt as you feel and yet I live, and am not positively unhappy ; only a vague, regret for what might have been stands like a clond between me and any happiness that might be mine. Yours are keen sufferings, but bear them patiently, and use will dull the pain.” “But, Uncle, why did he not let me hear from him, is mother says?" “Because ho was a man of honor; the four yeai a were up only last April, and this is but July; who can tell where he is? Wherever he is, he is faithful and true, I know.” “Oh,Uncle. God bless you for those words. I know, too, but what can I do? I cannot delay longer; my poor father’s . dying words, my solemn promise to marry this man, my stepmother’s persecutions —what can I do? Three months have ! fought, and now I wish 1 could lie down and die. Oh! Uncle, is there no escape? I have such a dread that he will come back after I am married, and then—no! it would be worse than his death to see him! The temptation—oh! why cannot I die?” “Poor child! my poor child!” was all I could utter.

Bound by a vow made at her father’s death bed, she was going, the next day, to marry a man who was old enough to be her father, and wbb, but for the faet of persisting in his claim, in spite of her openly expressed dislike of him, was' Esteemed a very good kind of man. True, CiaTa was beautiful and accom-" plished beyond the average of women of her class, aud it would be a struggle to any man to give up such a prize, backed as he was by the assurance of the stepmother Tfaatrit was only a girlish fancy, and that love coming after marriage was more to be trusted and more lasting than if it came before. I confess I was but a poor counselor under such circumstances; still I loved her very truly—she was almost as my owh daughter, for I was a childless widower, and I would have given my life tb save her. But it was impossible, and to-morrow would seal her fate. It was not; a pleasant journey, that. -Mrs. Webster read and slept at intervals the whole time, and when she slept Clara nestled close to me. We arrived at York about 6 o'clock, and just as the train was slackening spefed into the station, a guard jumped on to

(The front board, locked or unlocked the door, and remained there until the train stopped. “ Have you all your parcels, Madam?” “All, thank you, Uncle Joseph, except my umbrella —oh, that’s under the seat,” said Mrs. Webster. “ Now, guard, unlock the door.” “Are you with that young lady, sir?" pointing to my niece. “Yes, certainly; unlock the door.” “ Better not make a fuss, sir.” “ Fuss! What do you mean?" The man, who seemed to be looking out for somebody, now asked, “All right, -giT? ,1 --» V- 1 -—— /■ —— “All right,” said the station master, coming to the door and opening it. “This way, Miss.” “What dbC’i lh : .- ?" “Step into my office. I dare say its’s all right. Better not say too much here, you know.” We followed him through the little crowd of passengers and porters, accompanied by a policeman in uniform. As we passed, we heard fragmentary observations of the most pleasing kind. “Which is it?” said some one. “It’s the I think.’” “No; it’s the old woman. She looks as if she would do any one mischief, if it suited her.” . - “Old man looks too soft for anything,” and so on. ‘—i~ ■■ ----- / ■ ■— — We went into the office, and I indignantly turned to the station-master. “What is the meaning of this, sir?” “Oh! it’s very simple, sir, a telegram has arrived from the police in London witli orders to stop this young lady; here it is.” I took it and read: “The young lady, looking very ill, dressed In Mack silk mantle, white straw honnet, with white flowers, is to be detained at the station till the arrival of the officer by the afternoon mail. She Is seated in the middle compartment of the third flrst-class carriage from the end of the train. Her present name is Clara Webster. To avoid the possibility of a mistake, she has a diamond ring on the third Anger of the left hand, with the words ‘From Herbert, engraved on the inside.” It certainly was a correct description, and the name—there might be two Clara Websters, though. “Let me see your left hand, dear.” She pulled off her glove and there was the ring. — — —- “Let me see that ring with the diamond on it.” “Uncle, whstt does this mean? Is any thing wrong at home?” “I’ll tell you presently, dear. Give me the ring." She took it off and gave it to me, and I read “From Herbert" on the inside. “Why that is the ring that Mr. Langley gave you.” “What has he to do with this?” said' Mrs. Webster. “Perhaps he—” “Ho what, madam?” “Perhaps it did not belong to him, I was going to say." I saw it was no use to struggle; when the officer came down he would explain the mistake. “Where can wo wait?” I said. “Wait, Uncle Joseph, what for?” “Madam, this telegram orders the ar-' rest of your daughter, and her detention here until the arrival of an officer from London. ’ “But what for?” “I cannot tell you; it is useless to complain now, we must wait.” “I shall do nothing of the kind; I shall at once go and get liiy brother and Mr. Tredgar, and come down.” “Pray don’t, madam; there’s no occasion to make more noise about this matter than can be helped.” “1 shall remain with Clara; you had better go and say wc are coming very Shortly." "Your instructions don’t include this lady and mvself!” I asked. “Not at all, sir; you are both free to go’ at any time, but the young lady must stay.” “Where?” “Well, sir, I’m sure there’s some mistake, and was so from the moment I saw the young lady, so if you’ll give me your word not to go away, I’ll take you into my house, Out of the bustle of the station.”"' Mrs. Webster went off, and Clara and I went out to the jiouse. - “What can it be, Uncle?” “Can’t say, my dear; it will be something to laugh at by-and by, though it’s not pleasant now.” “But about the ring? Do you think it possible! that what mamma said?” “Possible, my dear; it’s ridiculous. It’s a hundred years old, and I dare say it belonged to his mother before he gave it to you.” “I can’t think what it ean be.” : “Don’t think about it. It’s a mistake, that’s all. It will be cleared up in a few hours. We’ll have some dinner and pass the time as well as we can."

“Do you know, Uncle, I feel almost glad of this; it seems like a break in the dullness; it puts off my wedding at least a week. Mamma herself could not press i.t for to-morrow after this.” We had dined, and got to be quite cheerful and laughing over the blunder as we sat at the window, when a rap at the door startled us both. “Come in.” A gentleman entered. “Miss Webster?" Clara bowed. “M ss Clara WEbster," he said, reading the name from a letter. . Clara bowed again. He handed her the jletter, which she opened, read and dropped on the floor, exclaiming: “O! Uncle, I am so happy,” and then fell into a chair, fainting. I picked up the letter, and calling the people Of the house, very Boon brought her to, and we were once more alone with the bearer of the note, which ran as folio**™** i — : - v rvitv tt ui “TnKDOAB lUli. “Mr. Fnmcls Trerijrar pienertt* his compliments to Mins Webster, awl beg* to st»te that ne must decline tkl fulfillment of his promise to make her his wife. The unhappy circumstance of Miss Webster’s public arrest on the charge of being in possession of a diamond, ring stolen ny her former lover, will at once account for his decision. Mr. Trcdgar’s wife must be above suspicion. “Mr. Tredgar begs,also to tnfoim Miss Webster that the services of his solicitor, Mr. Blake, the bearer, are at her disposal.” “Well, Mr. Blake,” said I, “you see we shall not require your services. I shall wait the event, and if it is not-cleared, shall employ my own solicitor in the matter. Will you present my kind regards to Mr. Francis Tredgar, and express my own and my w hlepe’s admiration of his gentlemanly courtesy and kindness? I would write -to him if I did not consider that a (correspondence with such a miserable, cowardly scoundrel was too utterly degrading to be thought of.” ; *‘l shall faithfully convey your message, sir, and allow me to assure you that if wasquite ignorant of the contents of the letter, and that it shall be the last time I shall ever bear one from him; and

now, as you will not let me help you as his solicitor, allow me to proffer my services as a friend. ” “With all my heart, Mr. Blake; come in here a few minutes before the train comes in, and we shall be glad of your help.” ‘.‘Was I not right; dear Uncle?” said Clara, as soon as we were alone. “Oh! you can’t tell how happy I am; I can live now. O, this glorious mistake; it is the most fortunate thing that has happened to me in all my life. Now, you are glad, Uncle, aren’t you?” and she came up to me. “With all hope’s torches lit in both her eyes,” she kissed me, and would have me speak. “Yes, darling, I am glad—more glad than I can find words to tell. Your fate linked to such a man as this scoundrel, would have been a living death. lam heartily glad, Clara.” THE OFFICER. , “This way, sir. The young person is in the house; she gave her word not to attempt to leave; the old gentleman is with her.” This we heard through the door as the station-master came along the passage. Our friend, Mr. Blake, had arrived some time before. The station-master entered; and behind him a tall, broad-shouldered man, with bushy beard and moustaches concealing all tire lower part of the face. — J “Will you have a light, sir?” said the station-master to the officer. “Thank you, no.” Clara started at the sound of the voice, and laid her hand on mine. “Now, my good man,” replied Mr. Blake, “perhaps you will explain this matter; you telegraphed down from London to stop this lady, and here she is. Now, if you please, explain." “This gentleman,” I said to the officer, “is my, niece’s legal adviser. I assume it is a mistake, still we shall be glad of your explanation. Yon are a detective, I presume?” “No, sir, lam not; my name is ” “Herbert! Herbert! my dear Herbert, it is you!” Clara had gone to him, and he was clasping her in his strong arms, while her face was hidden in his great beard, “My own, my darling, my own true . darling, she loves me still,” But why describe their meeting? Mr. Blake said to me at once: “My dear sir, I am not wanted here, and I doubt if you are,” and we left them. In half an hour We thought it possible we might be less in the way, and we went in. They sat on the sofa at a suspiciously great distance from each other, and looked as happy and foolish as possible. “And now, my dear Herbert, please to explain to us what has taken you at least half an hour to make clear to my niece.” “Well, my dear Uncle—l may call you Uncle?” “Oh, yes. A month sooner is not much consequence.”

“Don’t, Uncle,” said Clara. "You know how I went away, with just enough to pay for my tools and outfit and passage. I went to California, to the diggings, and was lucky, and got a good claim, worked it, made ’ a little money, took shares in a machine, worked the claim, improved the machinery, became manager, director, and got rich, started six months ago to come home for Clara, took the fever at Panama, was down for two months there, not able to move hand or foot, and arrived only last night in Liverpool. There I met an old friend and heard all the news of poor Webster’s death, the promise, the rest, and, above all, that to morrow was the day. I started by the first train to get to London, thinking that the marriage would take place there, and that I should be in ‘time. Looking out of the window of the carriage as the trains were passing each other at Petersborough, I saw Clara with her mother. I did not see you. I was mad; they had both started; I coHld not get out. There was Clara going from me, and I-»gomg from her, as fast as express trains could take us. What could I do? I knew nothing of where she was going, and yet my information was positive that she was going to be married tomorrow, solely because she would keep her promise. - “Can you wonder at my doing as Ldid? The train diffnot stop till it reached London, and I found that by the time I had hunted up the address to which you had gone from the servants at home, I should have lost the last train apd not been able to get here till long past midnight. What to do I could not think. “In the carriage in which I sat somebody had been talking about the murder of Tawell, and the telegraph, the police on the doorstep, and so on. It all flashed on my mind in an instant. “I went to the telegraph office and looked in. There was only a young lad there.

“ I went in and called him. 1 Can you telegraph to York for me?’ “ ‘ Certainly, sir.’ “ ‘ I wrote the telegram you saw.’ “ ‘ You must sign this, sir.’ “ ‘ No, I must not, young man,’ and I drew him toward me by the shoulder. “‘My name’s Field, Inspector Field; you understand?’ “ ‘Oh! certainly, sir. Did you catch that man the other day? I heard of it from one of our clerks.’ ‘“Oh, yes; caught him safe and sound; he’s in Newgate now.’ “ ‘ Indeed, sir,’ said the lad. “ ‘ You’ll send that at once; the train’s due in less than an hour. I’ll see you do it.’ “He did send it and as I heard the click, click, click, it was like the throb of a now heart circulating fiery blood in my arteries, for I knew it would enable me to see you, -Clara dear, and then I came down, as you see, by the train, and feel disposed now to embrace all the telegraph clerks in-.-the kingdom.” “Well, young man, it’s a dangerous game; I suppose you are aware it’s an bffense not lightly punished to pretend you are an officer of police?” said Mr. Blake. “My dear Mr. Blake, if it was death bn the instant of discovery, and I was in the same strait, I should do the same thing over again.” “You must find a prosecutor, Mr. Blake,” said Clara, “and as I, the principal person concerned, am not going to prosecute the 'officer, I think he will escape.” “And why,” said I, “did you liiot telegraph to Clara direct?” “Because I feared that Mrs. Webster might possibly have prevented our meeting." ; Mr. Blake lift us with his eyes twinkling and muttered something to me about “servitude for life.” A month after this I had the pleasure of giving away my niece to Herbert, and

reading in the Times the announcement of the marriage of Mrs. Webster to Francis Tredgar, Esq., of Tredgar Hall, to which ceremony, 1 need scarcely say, I was not invited. Clara, Herbert and I live together, and to this day he is spoken of among his intimates as Herbert Langley, “that active and intelligent officer. ”