Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 35, Number 92, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 24 July 1903 — Page 2

WHO WAS GUILTY

A VICTIM OF CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE

CHAPTER XVII. Bttumea and bewildered, I sat gazing at the death warrant in my trembling fcand. It was no less. This letter, made poblic, would seal my doom. I was, then, a murderer. In my sleep 1 had killed my uncle, and had afterward drawn the rope from his neck and the Sing from his finger. In this way it was that those articles came into my possession. Mechanically my band stole to the pocket in which they were concealed. Mile. Rosalie smiled, and in that smile I saw that she knew the menning of the motion. I bould not speak; I could hot Ufa my head. How much higher than I waa this base woman. Full of venom, maliciousness and spite, ns she was, her aoul was free from blood guiltiness. “You are guilty,” she said. “I must be guilty,” 1 said mechanically. “What do you propose to do?” "I propose,” she replied, in a voice of much sweetness, “to save you. You have a wife and daughtear. What would your disgraceful death mean to them?” This reference to those dear innocent •nee whose honor was my, honor, whose ■hame was my shame, and who, were I brought to the bar of justice, would share my infamy, completely unmanned me. A •ob of agony escaped from my lips. “Is it not worth while,” said Mile. Rosalie, “to save yourself, so that they may be saved?”"

“Yes, yes,” I gasped, seizing her hand and looking imploringly into her face. “To save them from ignominy and from Kfelong sorrow. Is it possible that you will do this for me and them?” “I will. Hush! There is a knock at She door. Ask who’s there.” Her voice, as she spoke, did not rise above a whisper. I strove to titter the words she dictated, but my tongue clave to the roof of my mouth. “Richard: Richard:” It was my wife calling softly to me from without. , “Open the door.” whispered Mile. Rosalie. “I will hide behind there,” pointing to a screen. “She will not see me. Do not let her keep you long. When she la gone I will show you that you have nothing to fear.” She glided with noiseless footsteps behind the screen, and moved to the door.

I forgot for a moment that it was locked, •nd my wife ealled to me that the key _wm turned. 1 unlocked the door and admitted her: but I did not allow her to •tep into the middle of the room. She was in her nightdress, and I well remember that there was a t piece of narrow red ribbon at her neck, which looked to me like blood. She told me that, waking •nd finding me absent from the bedroom, •he grew anxious and came to seek me. I responded with wandering words and looks, and this appeared to render her more anxious. She tenderly asked whether I was not well. I answered 1 was well, but I was engaged upon a most important task. I must be alone. And •till she lingered, and continued to speak In sweet and loving tones; and clasped me round the neck and kissed me; but 1 pushed her from me, and bade her go to •er room and sleep. “You will come soon?” she asked, soBdtously. “I do not know, I do not know,” I muttered. “I have' much to do. Do you ■ot see how you are distressing me?” Shortly afterward she left me, but ■ot before she made another effort to •oothe me. She smoothed my forehead with a cambric handkerchief and put tt Into my hand, saying it was clenn and •00l and would refresh me. As she crossed the threshold I quickly locked the door upon her. and the handkerchief fell from my hand. Mile. Rosalie, gliding forward from her hiding place behind the screen, picked it Up and toyed with It, and I made no attempt to take it from her. The vital issue at stake completely engrossed me. , “We are free now from intrusion,” she said, “and our business will not take long. I have terms to propose. First, •nd now her voice assumed a new phase •f malignity, “tell movwhat you think I was doing while I was hiding behind the •creen.”

“Doing? Nothing!” “Not even listening?” “Ah, yes; you could not help doing that.” “Of course not. It was not to be supposed that I would play the part of eavesdropper unless I was compelled. Such an infamous woman as I am! That Is what you called me a few minutes ago. I was a liar and a thjef as well, was I ■ot? I like to l>e correct. And but a few short hours before that you discharged me in a manner jthat would ruin the fair fame of any lady, and informed me that I was n<ft a fit associate for your wife and daughter. And yet I am going to save them; yes. iudeed I nm, and to •are you, too! But 1 must tell you first what I was doing while your wife was here. I was taking down in shorthand every word that was spoken between you. You had no idea of the extent of my accomplishments, had you? I am really accomplished. Years ago I learned shorthand, and it used to bring me in a few ■hillings. Oh, what a hard life I have had! what a bitter, cruel life! But I am going to enjoy myself now thnt I have the chance. You see, with this handkerchief and this little piece of paper in my hand I can go to your wife and say, •Not only is your husband a murderer, hut he loves me;' when I prove to her, hy relating what you said to each other Juat now, that I was in your room concealed while you were so anxiously trying to get rid of her.” She did not speak rapidly; now and again she paused, to give me nn opportunity of replying; hut I could find no words, ao confounded was I by her altered manner. That I was more completely than ever in her power was evifcnt to me in spite of my agony of bewilderment. Bnt the woman who held m» in her toils had said she Would save aael In what way? Not oat of tcnderaess and pity, but out of hate and acorn. What course was to be dictated by these sentiments? < “You understand me?" abe asked. “It hi ns pass ary that yon should tell me that yea understand me." “So far,” I aaid, “I understand you.”

“I am about to dictate terms. My silence, my mercy, must be purchased. I have set a price and terms upon them. In the murdered man’s dispatch box there were five thousand pounds. I must have that money.” “I have not got it.” She laughed mockingly. “But, my dear sir, my innocent, virtuous gentleman, money I must have. You drew from th 6 bank to-day £I,OOO. I must have that. It is in this room. Ah, there is a safe in the corner! you keep y‘our precious things in it. Your eyes are wandering toward it now. And these two keys upon the table—why, as I am an honest woman, they mhst be the keys of the safe! I wonder, now, If I could unlock it!” I allowed her to do as she would. She unlocked the safe and drew therefrom two bags of gold, 500 sovereigns in each. “I sell you your life for the gold in these bags.” she said. “Is it agreed?” I nodded vacantly. My senses were numbed- If I could have poured out my heart’s blood to save from sorrow and shame my darling wife and daughter, gladly would I have shed it. What, then, in comparison, were these bags of gold? “It is fortunate,” she said, “that you were paid in gold. I should have refused bank notes, and then you, would have been on the straight road to the gallows. But there is another condition; your life is not wortl\ a moment’s purchase if you decline it. Y'ou will go from this house to-night within the hour, and you will never set foot in it again. Where you go to I do not care; disappear, drown yourself, hang yourrelf; it will not matter to me. If you refuse to obey me, if ever you seek again the society of your wife and daughter, they and all the world shall be made acquainted with four crimes. That is my revenge; as sweet to me —oh, sweeter —than money. You would have driven me forth. I drive you forth. So long as you are in hiding in any part of the world you like you are safe. Do you agreej” “I must agree.” “Then there is nothing more to be said.” She moved toward the door, opened it, and spoke to me from that spot. Every word of her hissing voice fell clear upon my senses, although she spoke in a tone so low that it could not travel to any other part of the liouro. “I shall watch that you keep your word. I hate you and yours! Violate the conditions I have imposed, and I will bring your lady wife and daughter to the gutters. I will hunt and pursue and expose them, so that they. «hall never know a moment's peace. Y'ou know what you have to expect. Good-night.” She was gone, and I was alone. Well did I know that she would put her threats into execution if I did not keep faith with her. And was it not better that I should disappear from the sight jjl__tliose_l loved and never see them again? Was it possTTne;“kndwing what I knew, that I could ever allow them to place their innocent lips to my guilty ones, that I could ever gaze into their dear, innocent eyes without shuddering? True, I felt that I had sinned unconsciously, but the .guilt was no less mine than if I had done the deed in the broad light of day, with all my senses about me. I must go, and live henceforth a dead life. No tears welled from my eyes; but. nevertheless, I was as one who was blind. I left everything in the ro<jm in confusion, the safe unlocked, papers on the table. I took nothing with me. Feeling my way along the dark passages, and creeping so softly that I could not hear the sound of my footsteps, I came to the door of my dear Eunice's bedroom. I* slid down, nnd pressed my lips to the door, then rose, and felt my way onward again. I paused at the door of my bedroom, in which my darling Wife lay. Softly, softly to my knees I slid, and with folded hands rested my head against the panel. I did not pray—l could not; but the mute voice within me was bidding adieu to life, to love. Softly I rose to my feet and went out into the night alone.

CHAPTER XVIII. I doubt whether, if I tried, I could describe at length the weeks and months that followed. Like one who was dead, but possessing still the power of motion, I pursued my lonely way. All through the first night of my departure I walked till the first faint streak of light heralded the coming day. I must have walked fast and mechanically in a direction in which I should not be recognized. It suited me that I bad reached a place I did not know. An bumble wayside inn was near; I entered it and asked for a room. There I remained during the day, and when night fell I went out again, and walked on and on, through fields and villages, taking any track that promised to lead me farther and farther away from familiar scene?. I must have adopted some method of cunning concealment that no one accosted mo and inquired whither I was going. When day dawned I was in a wood, and there I lay unobserved. At night again I continued my flight, and so, day after day, night after pight passed, until I felt that 1 was lost—and-safe. I kept no count of the days, and only knew when It was Sunday by the ringing of the church bells. I entered no church; I did not pray; I strove not to think; all that I wished was that time would pass swiftly. I spoke to no man. unlesa I was spoken to; I never laid my hand with tenderness upon the form of child or animal. My heart was turning into stone, and I set myself steadfastly to the task of banishing from my mind every gentle fentlmeut that strove to find lodgment there. Of my wife and daughter I would not think. There was between them and me a barrier which l believed to be eternal. I never looked at newspaper or printed page; the world’s doings interested me no longer. One Sabbath 1 was sitting In ■ church yard; I waa tired and faint, and my feet were blistered with walking over rough roads. It belonged to my mood to choose ever the stony paths. They wan singing in the church—a qnaint old church covered with iry. Worn with fatigue, my eyelids closed, and a light slumber overtook me. It could have lasted but a short time, for when

I opened toy eyes I heard the singing stiH within the church. What specially aroused me was the voive of one of the singers. My wife had just such a voice; its note of familiar sweetness startled me. ~I listened .ip yonder. The singing ceased, and soon afterward the congregation issued from the church. I scanned them eagerly as they came forth; for a brief space my sterner spirit did not assert itself.

I had no fear that » should be recognized, supposing that the voice which had impressed me pas that of my wife. I had seen my face and form occasionally in #ear water when I stdsped to drink, and I knew that I had grown out of all likeness to myself. From the night I left my home I had not shaved; my matted hair, my wild eyes, my ragged garments, plaeed'me beyond the pale of recognition. 80, without fear, T gazed at the faces of the worshipers. My wife was not among them. The church was emptied of -the throng, and I was, I thought, alone again in the churchyard. But I was mistaken. A man stood by my side. He was of middle age; his face was benignant, his voice was gentle. As he moved and spoke he seemed to be attended by the spirit of charity. “You seem in trouble,” he said. '"Can I help you in any way?” I rose, cast a wrathful glance at him, and walked away from him. I did not turn to spe, but I knew that he was looking after me. X T ear the churchyard was a lightly tim ; bered wood. Thither I wandered, encompassed by silence, and threw myself upon the ground at the foot of a tree. Taking some bread from my pocket, I ate it to keep life within me. Ordinarily when I was accosted by a itranger my chief anxiety was to fly from the neighborhood; but something chained me to this spot. It may have been the voice singing in the church; it may have been the manifest kindness of the stranger who had accosted me. When evening came I was still there. I was not at so great a distance from the church that I could not hear the ringing at the evening service;' true, it came faintly to my cars, but my senses were abnormally sharpened. Amid all the voices I detected that which had stirred me in the morning, and was glad when I heard it and sorry when it ceased. They were the first humanizing sensations I had experienced for many months. The service ended, and all was again silent. It was a fine evening, and I resolved to pass the night in the wood, and recommence my wanderings in the early morning. I reckoned upon complete solitude, but it was not to be mine. Three persons strolled in the direction of the spot upon which I was lying, and stopped within a short distance of me. A clump of trees and the gathering darkness concealed me from their observation. One of the persons began to speak, and I recognized his voice. It was that of the man who had spoken to me so kindly in the church-yard. In his company were a woman and a young girl, whose face 1 could not distinguish, but whose form reminded me of Eunice. The father was telling them of his meeting with me, and of the manner in which I had met his kind words.

“He is a stranger here," the man said; “I have never seen his face before. Indeed, I saw but little of it now, it was ro 'covered with tangled hair. Poor fellow! Some deep trouble is weighing upon him.” “Perhaps, father,— said the young gM;“he was hungry.” “I think not,” was the father’s answer, “or he would have behaved differently.Hunger is a sharp monitor, my dear. He was not hungry; he was defiant. He looked to me more like a hunted animal than a human being.” “A man escaped from prison, perhaps,” suggested the mother. “It may be; if so, a long time must have elapsed since he made his escape; otherwise his hair would not have been so abundant. Before I spoke to him I noticed in his eyes a look of singular refinement, and I am sure that nt some period of his life he has moved in a good position. Perhaps he had a happy home, like ours; perhaps he had a wife and child whom he loved as I love you. To have enjoyed such happiness and to have lost it—ah, my dears, it is a sad thought! If that poor man’s heart wefe laid bare before us we should see it throbbing with suffering—unmerited, mayhap, but likely, too, to have been created by error or sin. Should I meet him again I will strive to learn his story, and will help him if he will let me.” They passed on, with further words of pity for me. I waited till the earth was shrouded in darkness, and then I fled from the wood. There was a terror in the idea of meeting that kind heart again. From the gloomy months I could pluck other records, but they would not help my story. More and more insensible did

I become to influences of a humanizing nature; harder and harder grow my heart; and there came, periods of savage delirium, when, in my desolation, I raised jny clenched hand heavenward, and cried, “There is no God!” For the bitter question forced itself upon me, why -should I be thus punished? The evil within me was not of my creating; the sleeping instinct of savagery which had led me to the unconscious committal of a deed of blood was not of my planting. In my waking hours I had lived a good life, and had held deservedly an honored and beloved position in my home. I was kind to the poor, and my heart was always open to the call of charity. Why, then, should I b« compelled to wander through the world “more like a hunted animal than a human being?” If there was a God, and he was good, would he hava permitted it? In the peril of these thoughts lay a deeper danger than that which sprang from the sin which weighed upon my soul.* (To be continued.)

Fortune's Favorite.

Shorl«—That fellow Blank Is a lucky cuss. He makes money at everything he goesjnto. Long—What did do that started your wheels to revolving? Short—Why. he fell Into an open 6ewer last week and recovered $3,000 damages from the city.—Chicago News.

It Comes High.

We’re bound to get from pleasure's cup One taste that’e dark and brown; Appearances we can’t keep up And keep expenses down. —Philadelphia Press.

Snow Plows on Canadian Railways.

On the railroads in Canada It la necessary to keep over 000 anow plows In operation every winter.

AM HISTORICAL BUILDING.

Old f aoonic Hall ( Neoiho* Confederate Capitol of Missouri. During the Civil War Neosho, Mo., was the scene of many stirring events, Situated on the* line between the North and the South, it would -be one day In the hands of the Federal forces ahd next In the bands of the Confederates. It was here that the seceaders met, and on October 21, 18151, In the; old Masonic Hall building, of which we give an illustration, and whiqh, is still

OLD MASONIC HALL.

sending, signed the article-9 of secession. The body was composed of the deposed Governor Jackson and 39 members of the Confederate wing of the House and 10 members of the Senate, and the following Is the title of the bill passed: “An Act declaring ties heretofore existing between the United State-s and the State of Missouri dissolved.” During the consideration of this measure the town was defended by Price’s army, which was stationed on the hill tops surrounding the place. The only dissenting votes to the passing of the bill were those of Charles 11. Hardin In the Senate and Isaac X’. Shambaugh in the The passing of the act was greeted with applause and the roaring of the cannons of Price’s command. The building has been removed from its original site, to give place to the city’s growth, but it still stands In a fair state of preservation and is an object of much interest to strangers who visit the town.

DEAR DEAD PAST.

Modern Terms of Mcasnrlnc Affactions of the Human Heart. The old millionaire entered his study and after carefully bolting the door behind him sat down at his desk and began to rummage in the capacious bottom drawer, says the St. Louis GlobeDemocrat. A look of intense anxiety overspread his seamed and rugged visage as he failed to find- the object of his, search, but presently this gave way to a smile when further search rewarded his endeavors. He gave a sigh of relief and settled back in his chair to examine thc packnke at old letters he held in his hands. With trembling fingers he untied the faded knot of blue ribbon that bound them, and slowly began to read. They were Leve letters, his own love letters, written in the days of his ardent young manhood, when success had first smiled upon him. As he read, the countenance of the old man softened, and the present was forgotten. He was alone with the past, the dear, dead past. But was it dead? No, for the magic of those burning words seemed to Ignite again in the olfi man’s heart the flame that had glowed there long ago. For see—a tear gathers In his sunken eye and slowly rolls down his wrinkled cheed. “Dear little Amy,” he whispers. “Dear little woman! how foolishly fond of you I was in those days. Y’ou were, indeed, the dearest woman I ever met. Your breach of promise suit cost me a cool $25,000!”

Sea-Water Bread.

A Philadelphia baker Is the authority for the assertion that the latest fad of dyspeptics is bread made wth seawater, instead of fresh water. “It has a saltier taste,” he says, “than we are accustomed to, but It is very palatable. In fact, he who likes salty things Is apt to like it better than the other kind of bread.” A physician,” he says, “asked me about three months ago to make some of this bread for his patients. At first I made six loaves a day, but now I make thirty. My seawater comes up to ine three times a week. The dyspeptics who buy the bread say it is the only kind they can eat fresh without discomfort.”

A Unique Pet.

The wife of the governor of North Borneo has a pet flint few people will envy her. The governor’s house la near a Jungle, and out of this there strayed one morning a baby rhinoceros. Captured as a curiosity, he soon became tame, and now refuses to return to the wilds. Sixteen quarts of milk a day Is what this pet requires, and on It he thrives and grows fat. Ho does not look much like the fullgrown rhinoceros, and mlght'-be mistaken for a curious sort of hog, were It not for bis single horn. He is devoted to his in Istnas an 1 follows her about like her dog.

Pertinent Reply.

“Say,” queried the Inquisitive-person as the stranger paused to light a cigar, “may I ask wbat your business la?” “You may,” replied the stranger. “Well,” aakl the rubhcr-necker after a pauee, “what is It?” “Minding it,” said the stranger. “Minding what?" asked the astowlahed party of tho preface. “My business,” gras the significant Never try to dispose of wedding prefer rota If yon would preserve your confiAence In friends.

POLITICAL COMMENT.

Spread of Mob Law. Is it the power of example, Is it midsummer madness, or Is it merely the habit events have of coining in groups? XliP public Is hardly done discussing the riotous outbreaks at Wilmington, Del., when a very similar state of affairs arises at Evansville, Ind., with the important difference that the Evansville mob did not find its victim. It Is high time the American people were thinking tnosFSeriously about the frequency of riotous assemblages throughout the length nnd breadth of the land. If they will read back something more than a century and go over the politico-philosophical discusisl ns occasioned by the founding of the republic they will note that these outbreaks would almost seem to give the color of true prophecy to those defenders of monarchy that declared it would be Impossible to govern a large extent of territory and preserve order “with the weak government of a democratic republic.” The very general prediction of European writers and thinkers outside the more or less visiouary French school was that an effort at purely popular government could never succeed, except in the case of a city or q, very small territory inhabited by a very homogeneous population; that local officers would be too timid to successfully suppress local disorder; that anarchy would follow, to be followed in turn by despotism in its worst form—namely, an Irresponsible dictatorship. The Journal does not feel alarmed for the future of the republic. We are not going to the bow-wows right away.

WHY THE DEM DONKEY IS SO QUIET.

A dopkey can’t bray without raising his tall above the level of his back, nnd tbe Democracy still has an impediment in his speech.—Minneapolis Journal. *

But we are drifting into a "very dangerous notion that any particular crowd of men, possessing strength either through numbers or wealthy may with Impunity set themselves up as superior to the law. It is time that we, as a people, should bring ourselves up standing and think on these things. The laws are our laws all the time, not onr laws when we like them and the other fellow's law 9 when we don’t. If enough of us do not like them there is an orderly and regular way for changing them. But while they are laws they must be enforced, not in a few places, but in all places; not against some that come in conflict with them, but against all that violate them; not in a halting, hesitating, quibbling fashion, but promptly, sternly, relentlessly, by men who are blind to everything but grim, cold, passionless justice. Friend or foe, weak or strong, if he violate the law, let him suffer the full penalty imposed by the law, with deliberate, unswerving action of theVhole machinery of justice. It is only thus that respect for the law because it is the law can be inculcated and maintained, and without such respect for the law —which is but the orderly expression of the popular will —no man Is safe InJife or property.— Indianapolis Journal. /

We Have the- Revolver. Lord Lnnsdowno, lu pleading on Tuesday for nn unprejudiced canslderatiou of England's tariff position, made use of a striking fl^ure. “We are among the commercial nations,” he said, “Ukc an uunrmed man who goes into a room among men each of whom hns a revolver. We ought to buy a large revolver and let everybody see It. Our market is the greatest in the world, and a threat to close fl could not be Ignored.” Lord Lansdowne had Just stated the facts that moved him to urge England to “buy a large revolver.” Some years ago Canada gave British goods a tariff preference. Thereupon Germany discriminated ngalnst Cana-" dian products. When England protested Germany threatened, If other British colonies followed Canada’s example, to deny to England herself the “most favored nation” treatment, notwithstanding England's ports are open to German exports. Im other words, Germany threatens.

If one part of the British empire encourages trade with another part, to discriminate against the products of all parts of the empire. And her free trade policy leaves England helpless to protect either her colonies or herself! The United States has Its troubles with nations which discriminate against its products, but none has ever dared to make to It such a threat as Germany has forced England to swallow. The reason is that In Its protective policy the United States has “the revolver” which England lacks. Canada has been trying to benefit England, tlßTcenter of the empire of which she is a part. Because of her free trade policy England is not only unable to return the benefit; she Is also unable to protect her benefactor. Nay, more; she is forced to submit to a threat of injury to herself If others of her dependencies offer her a benefit similar to that offered by Canada! In the humiliation of England's present position, and in the desire of her statesmen to escape from that tion, is a striking vindication of the American policy of protection. We are not exposed to such humiliating threats. We are able to protect those who confer benefits upon us and ourselves. We have “the revolver.” —Chicago Inter Ocean. Corner in Boup Bones. It is rather mean of the Democrats to blame Cleveland for the soup houses which were In fashion during his administration. Soup bones would be cor*

nered, no matter what Democratic free-twider or visionary tariff reviaionlstxvas elected to the Presidency. Mr. Cleveland “never meant to;” he was only a sure enough Democrat.— Donaldsonville (la.l Chief. Will Blunder Again. The awkward predicament of Democrats located in regions of great Industrial activity is pointed out by the Mail of Charleston, W. Va.: “West Virginia Democrats are between his Satanic Majesty and the deep water on the tariff question. They know that free trade would be the most ruinous dose the business of ,the State ever swallowed, but It is the party’s shibboleth, more sacred than the graves of the "party’s dead hopes. They can’t talk about the tariff and they have nothing else to talk about, so what will poor Democracy do?" Do? Why, do the wrong thins, of course; attack protection, demand the repeal of the Dlngley tariff and In Its plnce enact a tariff for revenue only. This at a time of unparalleled prosperity, when tho country wants the privilege of growing rich and richer by a continuation of existing tariff laws. The Democratic party can always be depended upon to mnkp a fatal blunder at precisely the right time.—American Economist.

Leave It to the Democrats. It Is perfectly in order to leave all attacks upon the tariff policy to the .Democratic party, which hns a consistent record for attacking everything which has conduced to the prosperity of this country. The Democrnt'c party will need some Issue of negntion, and the Republicans would Just as eoou whip their competitors cn the question of the tariff, as has hem dene so often before, ns In any other controversy, . Republicanism without the Idcft of protection of home Industries would certainly not be the Republicanism of or Harrison pr any of. the great leaders who have marshaled thA Republican hotta to .electoral victory.— Troy Times. ** r - Good Advice. Senator Hanna gave the'Ohio Republicans a good cry when he warned all meddlers with the tariff to keep “hands off” nnd advised Republicans to “stand guard” over that policy.— Philadelphia Press.