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lewis m. 0bist, proprietor, j An fitbe jjcit&fnt Jfamilg ftetospapcr: Jfor % |ramotion <rf I tie political, Sacial, Agricultural anb Ccmntertial Interests of tjje Siratj). | teems-?3 so^ a yea^^advaiice.
VOLUME Xll. YORKVILLE, SOUTH CAROLINA, THURSDAY MORNING, MAY 24, 1866. NUMBER 5. j|? Anginal Jtofg. written FORTItE yorkvii.le enquirer. iMBOIMOT MU>, A Romance of Love, Mystery and Retribution. BY "WILLIE I.IGHTHEART." Author of "The Park Mystery of the Deserted House "Fatal Gift;" "Old Heads and Young Hearts," &c., Jcc. CHAPTER VII One loDg eventful year has passed away since the occurrence of the incidents alluded to in the last chapter. Very many were the changes which its hours and days, its weeks and months, bad brought to Minnie Harcourt, uow the sole occupant of the desolate and dreary old mansion. Old Mr. Adam Harcourt bad died while asleep in his chair in the library. He bad beeu com pluioiug fur some months previous, of an unaccountable dizziness in the bead, and dimness of vision, which annoyed and distressed him at times, almost beyond endurance. One summer afternoon, after complaining of an attack of his old malady, he retired to his library for bis usual afternoon nap, whioh, during the last ten or fifteen years, the old gentleman found absolutely necessary. Remaining longer than usual, and supper having been brought in, Dinah was sent to arouse him. Upon entering the library the poor old gentleman was found comfortably seated in his favorite chair, his bead lying back, partially to one side, his feet upon a stool, and his broken pipe upon the floor. Apparently, he was fast asleep. Dinah's most strenous efforts failing to arouse bim, she hurried from the room in alarm, and acanainted her vouner mistress / " 1 w of the singular faot. Minnie, never for a moment thinking that anything serious was the matter, accompanied Dinah back to the library, when, after repeated and unavailing efforts to arouse him, she discovered that life was extinct. Physicians were sent for immediately; not because Minnie entertained the slightest hope of recovery, but because, in the excitement and terrible alarm, that was the first thought that suggested itself to her mind. As was expected, they pronounced him dead, and gave it, as their opinion, without a dissenting voice, that the principle of life had been extinct for several hours. Well, the poor old man was buried, with great pomp and ceremony. The attendance at the funeral was unusually large, and an observer might have pointed out in the prooession that followed the plumed hearse, nearly all the prominent men of the country and village. Hosts of friends, advisers and sympathizers, sprung up all at once to offer their services to the now doubly wealthy heiress; but poor Minnie turned away from them all, convinced of the hollowness of all their loud professions, and found in the fresh, heartfelt, unadulterated sympa " * i t\? ? i_ ,i _ ? rr i i i toy or old xunan, tne most enectuai oaim for her torn and bereaved heart. The old house had beeD dull, dreary and desolate enough before; but since the death of Mr. Haicourt, the air of desertion and gloom which pervaded the empty and spacious apartments was almost beyond endurance. True, very many neighbors and friends offorcd her a home, more in keeping with her age and position, and others volunteered to live with her in the old house until the war was over, or, at any rate, until she could come to some tinal decision with regard to the property. But argument, expostulation aod entreaty, were all in vain. Minnie was wedded to Harcourt llall and could not, would not, abandon it, nor even consent to a temporary addition to the number of its inmates, i Possibly, this was exceedingly unwise and j J:_: \T:_:n thneo XUJ UU101UUS uu i'ilUULC 3 y<* 11, ao, iu wusv times of almost universal lawlessness, it was at least unsafe for a young lady of her rare beauty and well known wealth, to be J living comparatively alone, and at least a half mile from her nearest oeighbor. How- ] ever, such was the case. The mysterious disappearance of Edgar j Houston, his unaccountable and protracted i abserce, and, finally, the meagre and unsatisfactory report of bis death at a hospital, i preyed upon her mind and heart with a consuming energy, and unfitted her for the discharge of the duties, which now de- j volved upon her. In the course of time, i however, and in reply to letters addressed to the Surgeon of the hospital at Norfolk, ; she received information which kindled hope in her heart once more, and made : ?? /lociraKlo CAIOLCUSiC uuimuiv "Miss Missis Harcocrt :?Your communication of the I 12th Inst., which you term your seventh letter on this subject, but which is really the first which I have had the honor to receive, makes mention of a young soldier, who, i upon Inquiry, 1 find, died at this hospital over a year ago. The circumstances of the ring, and that only, refreshes my , memory as to the individual alluded to. As far :is I may he ' able, 1 now proceed to impart the desired information, only ' regretting that your first letter did not reach me. From papers in my possession, I find that Edgar Houston, j Private, Company A. 27th Regiment, South Carolina Vol- | unteers, Hagoou's Brigade, was brought to this hospital iu | a dying state on the 21st March, last. He was wounded iu the right shoulder by a fragment of a shell?I do not know at what engagement. Wound was evidently two weeks old, had been neglected, and mortification had taken place. Do not know how you came by the information that he was wounded by a poisoned ball. The man iu the next bed was?hence the mistake, perhaps. I must not omit a very' important fact ju?t here, and that is. that the soldier did not give in his own name. He was in a high fever when admitted, and remained in that state until his death, which occurred four days after. The name of Edgar Houston was found upon the hack of his vest, and the lining of the waist-band of his pants, and was therefore recorded in our b >oks. Regiment, Company, Brigade and such like scraps of information, were gathered from papers about his p <on and letters on his cap. The ring which I took from his finger, myself, and sent to your uncle many months aco. bv a furloughed soldier from your section of country, attracted my attention by the name or -Har cocrt" engraven upon it. I am glad that it was received in safety. 1 have only to add, that Houston was buried in the hospital grounds, and that the number of his grave is In my possession. Very Respectfully Yours, CHARLES D. GUKNSEV, Senior Surgeon." We have already intimated, that this letter, received several months after it was written, inspired hope in the bosom of the hitherto sad aod despondiDg Minnie, and gave something of interest to her aimless life. Hope whispered, that after all, Edgar Houston was still alive, atid in spite of his long and unaccountable absence, would return one of these days to cheer and glad ! den her desolate and widowed heart. The : soldier alluded to in the Surgeon's letter, ' could not have been her Edgar, because to her mind, it appeared utterly impossible ! j that he could have recovered from his ' wound, inflicted by Barney, joined the j army and done battle for his country all in , the space of a few weeks. The tragedy j with Barney occurred iu the latter part of j February. The wounded soldier was admitted on the last of the following month ! into the hospital at Norfolk. Then, too, it was Dot at all probable that Edgar, being a VirginiaD, would voluntarily enlist in, or be assigned to a South Carolina regiment. Evidently the dead 6oldicr was some other Edgar Houston, if indeed such really was bis name. Such, at least, were Minnie's hopeful conclusions as she laid aside the j letter, aod entered upon the duties. of the j day with unusual liveliness aDd spirit. Hope deferred, however, maketh the ; heart sick, it is said ; and, as week after | week elapsed, and moDth after month went by, biiDgiDg no tidings whatever of her missing lover, poor Minnie's hope began to wither upon her sadly disappointed heart, until, finally, she settled down into the firm conviction that, after all, the dead soldier was no other than her own Edgar. He could Dot have joined the army before he had recovered from the wound from Barney's pistol, and yet the Houston, alluded to by the Surgeon in his letter, had been wounded by a shell two weeks even before he was brought to the hospital, which, if it really was her lover, would make it appear that be had received a dangerous wound, recovered, joined the army, passed through on oneractpmerit, received another wound, i , > which he neglected for two weeks, was taken to a hospital, remained four days, died and was buried?and all this in three weeks time ! Of course, the whole thing was simplj impossible, and upon its unreasonableness had Minnie erected the foundation of her hope. But now, another train of thought was started, and the whole affair, viewed from another standpoint, assumed an air of terrible probability. Suppose, thought she, that Edgar was not wounded in his encounter with poor Barney, that never-to-be-forgotten February night? The supposition that he carried away in his body, the bullet that could not be found, was, after all, but a suggestion of the baronet. Who knew ittobe really so? Nobody had seen or heard anything of him since the two pistol shots startled the family. It was only supposition after all. Well, suppose he was not wounded ?? What then ? Simply this, that in that case, there was ample time, id the space ot i a month, for him to have joined the army, i met the enemy in battle and died from a wound received in the engagement. 'Yes, yes,' said MiDnie, bowing her head down upon the little work table, as these thoughts cast their sombre shadows over her distracted beart, 'I see it all now !? This ring, too !?placed by my own bands upon his finger, that far away July morning!?how could it have beeD found in possession of a stranger ? Alas ! the wounded soldier could have been none other than my poor, dear, wroDged and unfortunate Edgar!' That was enough ! That conviction glided, like molten lead, away down into the bleeding, feverish depths of the poor suffering heart, and blighted every trace of verdure and beauty there Henceforth there was no summer days in the year for her, with blithesome song of bird or beauteous j sight of flower; henceforth, there was no j parenthesis of light to come down between 1 the dark shadows that lay all along her life- j path, nor balmy ray of sunshine to dissipate j' the carnal winter of her heart. "Ah! what is life, when ihe weary heart Is desolate and lone ?? When the spirit's lot is a gilded woe, And the heart's sweet hope is gone!" I Day after day, in that dark, dull, deserted house, without a friend and companion, but poor old Dinah, Minuie glided about like some beautiful but restless spirit. The beautiful love-light of the eye was all gone ; ; the delicate rose tint of the once round j cheek was fading day by day; the dear, sweet, silvery laugh was hushed ; the dulcet voice that awoke the echoes many a day all nrer the old hnildincr with those snrichtlv V.w. ??v vr.%. r "O ? j and bewitching little Spanish airs, that poor i old Uncle Adam' loved so much to hear, was silenced dow. The pale, white, anxious little face pressed against the windowpanes, with the dark, pensive eyes gaziDg so longiDglyout upon the road, was all the villagers saw now, of the once gay and happy hearted maiden. i <De dear Lord, help us!' poor old Dinah would exclaim, as she unobservedly watched j her beloved young mistress, 'whorrah dis, j now ? l)e poor chile grow so tin and pale, j and seem so kine o' dunker like, dat my j poor ole hart mos' broke, wen I look 'pon j urn ! De dere Lord spare ole maumma life toshurn ali right agin; an' sec Mass Edgar cum back.' 1 Ah ! that was it!?that was what poor | Minnie's heart longed after !?Edgar back again, and the reuewal of the old love that ! made the past so gloriously beautiful. The J little boy that played with her in the long i hours of the sunoy past?that grew up be- j I side her in the golden days of happy girl j hood?that filled the budding hours of ear1 ly youth and womanhood with exquisite ! | sweetness, and taught herthe beautiful IanI guage of love, and gave her the inestima| ble experience of confiding trust, so preI eious to the heart of woman?Oh ! that he 1 would come back 1 j Alas ! the days aud weeks came and pasi sed away, bringing naught but disappointj ment to the restless heart, and deepening j the darkness of the shadow that had come : down upon her life ! Still, as the passer-by | looked up to the window, the pale face was | pressed against the pane, and the longing I wistful eyes gazing earnestly up the road. Poor Minnie ! what was there for her? There was, however, an ingredient to be mingled id her cup of sorrow, more bitter I than all the combined experiences of the past. The shadow about her life-path, was, j in the providence of God, to be deepened : anduntensified, and rendered even less en- j durable. The burden upon the chafed ; shoulder and lacerated heart, waR to gather j additional weight, and the dim, uncertain | and flickering light, that lingered about her ' life, was to be eclipsed in almoBt impene- j trable darkness. Ooe gorgeous June sunset hour, as Min- ! nie sat musingly upon the ivy-covered porch ! of Harcourt Hall, a letter was handed to ! her by old Dinah, who had received it from the hands of a stranger. Hastily tearing j open the envelope, a scrap of printed paper j fell to her feet. Paying no attention to this, j she unfolded the letter, and, to her surprise, ! astonishment, indignation and inconoeiva- ! ble sorrow, read as follows : Miss Minnie Harcocrt:?Enclosed, you will find a list i of the casualties of tlie buttle before Petersburg, on the 34th ' instant. Among the number killed during that rash and j inconsiderate charge, you will find the name of Edgar Houston, a young gentleman, between whom and yourself, existed, in times past, an exceedingly romuntic intimacy and very tender relationship. There being no doubt of his death, I deemed it n slmpie -piece of justice, to save you from further suspense and anxiety on the subject, by acquainting you at once, with the fact. And, now, M.ss Harcourt, allow me to ask, if the nffee- i tlon I have borne for you, the considerate silence and nonInterference I have manifested during the life of my rival, | nnd the unalterable interest I still feel in your welfare and ; happiness, does not justify the hope which 1 cannot hut , entertain, of successfully renewing my suit! Alone, desolate, unprotected, and, I fear, unhappy, what reasonable ' objections can you urge, why you shoula resist the accom- j plishment of my highest ambition and the dearest wish of my heart.' A line addressed tome, through the post office at Norfolk, j will command my prompt and immediate attention. Faithfully yours, RICHARD BEVERLY, Baronet. Si~fchiog op the scrap of primed paper, whiob bad fallen to the floor, and running her eyes over the sad list, she saw, sure enough, and to ber inexpressible grief, the name of bim, who was dearer to her heart than the very love of life, 'Edgar Houston, killed: The emotions that thrilled the heart of poor Minnie, were so peculiar in their character, that no effort to portray them could possibly succeed. The knowledge of Edgar's death did not bring a tear to her eyes, or an exclamation of sorrowful regret from her lips j but, with strained, wild, tearless gaze, her dark eyes looked long, lovingly and silently upon the name a few moments, then suddenly looking up with a sigh, she threw the scrap of paper iudifferently aside, and walked slowly into the bouse. Edgar certainly oould die but once; and bis death having been reported to her months before, the poor girl had expended all her grief on the subject Then, too, there certainly had been a mistake somewhere, or there were two Edgar Houstons. If it was her Edgar that died in the hospital, then, of course, it was not him who fell between the lines at Petersburg. The ring on his finger, the name on his clothes, was almost conclusive proof that the soldier buried at Norfolk, was the proper object of her grief and sorrow. This other ! well, God knows who he was! Both, however, had been reported dead, so it mattered not to poor Minnie, which was which ; for, in either case, the shadow was dark enough, God knows ! So Sir Riohard Beverly still hovered a* bout her path ! He that was driven from her presence in ignominy and disgrace? his artifice, cunniog and deception all exposed, his character exhibited in its true light, his deep laid, subtle plans all thwarted?he, so long forgotten, or remembered only with an exclamation of disdain and indignant displeasure, he to step upon the stage just at this critical juncture ! How unfortuuate ! With a flushed face and throbbing, feverish heart, Minniesat herself down before her little writing desk, to attempt a reply Co the baronet's ill-timed and presumptuous letter. For a while her indignation prevented the expression of her thoughts and feelings; but, after the destruction of several sheets of paper, in fruitless attempts to reply to his later, she succeeded in expressing herself in a becoming and appropriate manner. Calmly, firmly, but dispassionate ly and emphatically were those sentences expressed, striking from beneath her correspondent, every prop of expectation and hope, und erecting impassable barriers between him and tbe realization of his wishes?the triumphant reply of pious virtue to subtle hypocrisy and cunning, sheep-clad vice ! The letter?which must have fallen upon tbe baronet's heart like a bursting shell at the feet of the coward?was concluded, sealed and sent. * * * * * 'Miss Harcourt,' said an aged clergy men, as he met her in the garden a week or two after, 'this intrusion, I am sure, will be pardoned, when I state the circumstances, which made it necessary. In the I good Providence of God, I have it in my i power to do you a service, and frustrate the | cruel devices of a wicked man. Do you j know this man ?' Sir Richard Beverly !' exclaimed Min- i oie, changing color, as she read the name j upon the fly leaf of the little blank-book, j -lm. a. .1 1?1,1 i i WHICH IHC uit'igyluau iicju luwuius ucai. 'Tell me what you know of him?" said the clergymao, as he watched the color! come and go in Minnio's cheeks. Without knowing why, Minnie related ' the circumstances attending his first ap- i pearancc at the Hall, his subsequent ! conduct there, and the final exposure of; the gigantio deception which be had so I successfully practiced upon them. At the | conclusion of her narrative, which embraced i absolutely everything she knew of the j baronet, the clergyman looked very thought- 1 ful a moment or two, and then exclaimed, < 'What a wonderful interposition of Prov- j idence !' Minnie looked eagerly un into his face, j 'It matters not how the information was j obtained, nor do I wish you to ask anything ; about it j but I happen to kuow?mind ! I am sure of it!?that this Sir Richard Beverly will make an attempt to abduct you, by force, if necessary, the first dark night that may oocur. From information in my possession, I am justified in affirming that this wioked man cares absolutely nothing for you, but will leave no atone 1 unturned to possess himself of a legal claim ; upon your fortune. This olaim he hopes j to acquire by a forced marriage.' 'And what would you advise me to do i under the circumstances?' asked Minnie, i in a tone of quiet self possession, that sur-! prised the olergyman beyond measure. 'Let the wioked fall into his own snare,' he replied. 'What do you mean V asked Minnie. 'Allow him to be caught in the very aot of abduction. <But would not that be rather dangerous ?' asked Minnie, looking suspiciously over her shoulder towards the dark, dreary, inauspicious walls of old Haroourt Hall. (Would it be judicious or wise to venture thus far ?' (Hearken to me,' said the old man. Then lowering bis voioe, and glancing nervously around, he said, almost in a whisper. (Those clouds you see rising out of the West portend a dark and stormy night. The evil eye of Sir Richard, who loiters about these premises, unobserved, is even now lifted in hope towards the setting sun. Depend upon it! he will be here to night. Now, mark what I say ! Go back to the house as quietly and unconcernedly as though nothing had occurred. Mention nothing of this to any of the servants. As soon as it grows dark I will return with a few gentlemen of my acquaintance, and, placing ourselves under your command, be posted in different parts of the house at such points as will prevent the fellow's esoape.' <But, sir,' said Minnie, as the olergyman turned to tatre nis leave, 'wonia it not do better for me to leave the house altogether, and spend the night elsewhere ? By no means,' replied the clergyman. 'Your absence would only provoke suspicion, and delay tbe arrest of the baronet, who would make another, and perhaps a more successful, attempt at a future day. I pray you be guided and directed by me in this one instance.' Minnie made no further objection, so after a few words of oaution and advice, the clergyman retired and Minnie returned to the house, wondering how this eventful ohapter of her life was to end. Much to her alarm, Dinah met her upon the porch, and, with a look of surprise and wonder, told her that she distinctly heard footsteps in the upper story a few minutes before. This, coupled with the alarming intelligence communicated by tbe clergyman, terrified Minnie beyond measure. With a heroic effort at self-possession, she controlled her rising fears, safficently to reply calmly, and apparently unconcerned, Nothing but the rats, Dinah; nothing but the rats.' .t>_* ?i. 1? j? i n:?u 'JLYai gui uu auue ueu, na.u i/iuau, -au kin coagh too.' 'How! Did you hear a cough?' asked Minnie, ooW really and andisguisedly alarmed. 'Are you quite sure of that, Dinah ?' 'Yes missy?maumma quite sure !' MiDDie said no more; but, hastily entering the house and retiring to the prviaoy of her own chamber, she locked the door, threw herself upon her knees, and burst into tears. How long she kneeled and wept there, and what words were those that broke so passionately from her lips ever and anon, we do not know, but when she arose, her eyes were free from tears, and the sweet, patient smile that illumined her beautifal, pale face, was not of an earthly origin. She was ready now for any emergency. You oould see it in the glanoe of her eye, the steadiness of her tread, and the complacency and quiet of her whole demeanor. The evening shadows were coming? were growing deeper and darker; the plain tive song of tho whippoorwill was heard in the grove, and myriads of ioseots joined the chorus from the forest. One by one the flowers were closing and the stars appearing. Here and there upon the face of the heavens moved slowly, grandly and majestically, lowering black clouds, one moment shutting out the glory of the rising moon, then unveiling her full beauty to the world. Night was coming?a dark, stormy and tempestuous night?and yet the clergyman had not returned. Suddenly the door-bell was rung?rung by a hurried and hasty hand, and Minnie paused and listened with almost breathless interest. A scream?a long, loud, exultant scream from Dinah! what can it mean ? 'Ob missy! missy !'exolaimed Dinah, a few moments after, as she stood panting and blowing at Minnie's chamber door, 'come down stairs directly ! Bressde Lord! ?maumma lib to shum come back safe once more! 0, missy! missy!' and the poor creature burst into tears and flung her sable arms around the neck of Minnie. lWho has come back, maumma?' asked Minnie, gently raising Dinah's head from her shoulder, while her poor heart seemed about to throb its very life out. A tall, handsome, richly uniformed Confederate officer stood at the door. A cry of iueffable joy and rapture broke from the lips of Minnie, as she broke from the feeble embrace of old Dinab, and was olasped, tremblingly to the bosom of her long lost Edgar Houston. Edgar, upon the supposition that be had killed Sir Richard, instead of poor Barney, immediately fled from the house and the village, and went to Richmond. Here he was confined to his bed for several weeks i from the wound received at the Hall that j eventful night, immediately after his interview with Minnie. Upon his reoovery, he | found that the ring which Minnie badj given him, as well as several articles of clothing, had been stolen, very probably by the servant, who attended him during his illness. These articles had, doubtless, been sold to the soldier, who died shortly after in the Norfolk hospital. Edgar immediately joined the Confeder ate Army, was captured shortly after, and remained a prisoner uotil his exchange, which did not occur for many long months after his capture. No sooner was he exchanged, than circumstances made it necessary for him to enter upon active service in the field again, having failed to obtain a furlough. He remained with his regiment until after the memorable charge upon the enemies lines before Petersburg on the 24tb of June 1864, when he was wounded and captured, but made his escape, returned to the Confederate lines, was sent to a hospital and placed on the 'Retired list.' The news-paper report of his death was incorrect. And now, to return to our story. The clergyman, acoompanied by five AlliMa /annil a m a n A f iU A M Al /?U Vl Adk AA J mn J A UlLiCl gCUlieiiiCU Ul tUO UCI^UUUIUUUU, UiQUC his appearance a few moments after Edgar's arrival. Mutual explanations were entered into, and the reverend eoclesiastio was delighted beyond measure, that matters had taken suoh a favorable and unexpected turn. Edgar, in torn, was indignant and surprised, when told of the oircumstances which made this assemblage necessary, and seemed eager to encounter the cowardly baronet, who thus dared to impose upon and persecute an unprotected woman. However, the night passed away pleasantly and quietly enough, and nothing was seen or heard of Sir Richard. Night after night passed away, finding Edgar and a few friends in constant watch and guard around the old building; but nothing ocourred to provoke tbe least suspicion. Finally the watch was abandoned, and, were it not for the unblemished character of the author of tbe report concerning the intended abduotion, tbe whole story would have been discredited and laughed heartilv over. c? ~ ' The clergyman, however, insisted upon extreme oantion and watchfulness, and Edgar, fearful of losing his prize, generally left his hotel towards nightfall every day, and spent the night under the roof of Harcourt Hall, in old Mr. Harcourt's library. ***** A few days after the marriage of Minnie and Edgar, and as the happy couple were wandering about the dreary rooms of the abandoned portion of the building, whioh was then undergoing repair, it was found necessary to remove an old worm-eaten oak chest, to continue some repair and alteration in that locality of the room. Several workmen had attempted in vain to remove it from its position, and Edgar called two stout artizans from another portion of the honse, with which reinforcement of muscle, they succeeded in drawing the ponderous chest out into the middle of the room. 'Open it, Thomson,' said Edgar, as the party turned quickly away, and looked inquiringly into each others faces. 'What in the world does that old chest contain, Minnie? Judging from the offensive odor, I should certainly imagine it to be anything but the Balm of a thousand dowers.' <1 am sure I do not know,' said Minnie, thoughtfully. 'To the best of my recollection, the lid of that chest has been op for the last ten vears or more, and there was J ? / certainly nothing within bat a few old papers, of no material consequenoe. Perhaps some of the workmen had better open it. See there! the key still remains in the lock.' Sure enough,' said Edgar, with difficulty turning the rusty key, and throwing back the cover of the ohest; but, no sooner bad he done so, than he started back with an ezolamation of horror, and staggered to wards the opposite corner of the room, like a drunken man. The workipen now crowded around the chest and locked into it, but started baok aghast and confounded with horror, as the blackened, half-putrified corpse within, glared upon them with its dark glazed eyes. Consternation completely overwhelmed them ; and, leaving coats and tools behind, they rushed headloug from the house. 'Sir Richard Beverly!' exclaimed Min ie, her countenance growing pale as death. Oh ! Edgar! what an awful end !' The circumstances attending the baronet's tragic and singular death, were simply these. Towards sunset of the afternoon that the clergyman informed Minnie of the baronet's intention of abducting her ; be obtained an entrance, by a secret passage, into Harcourt Hall, and awaited the coming of night to carry out his diabolical purposes. The cough and the sound of footsteps in the upper rooms, which Dinah had heard an hour or so prior to Edgar's arrival, can be accounted for thus. The unusual noise and excitement about the house, occasioned by the returu of Edgar, and afterwards, the arrival of the party of gentlemen, impressed the baronet with the idea of discovery and pursuit, particulaily so, as be distinctly heard his name mentioned several times in no flattering manner. Imagining that he heard approaching footsteps, and determined to avoid discovery and consequent arrest, the unfortunate man concealed himself in the old chest, "But a spring lock, that lay in nmbush there, Fastened hlin down forever!" THE END. From the Charleston Courier. THE NEW COTTON TAX. Washington, May 8, 1866. The House of Representatives, at its evening session to-night, went to work in earnest on the new Tax Bill. The first eight sections of the Bill, which comprise all that relates to the cotton tax and the mode of collecting it, were read, and, after a sharp debate, amended and agreed to. As your merchants and planters, and indeed all who arc directly or indirectly connected with the cotton interest, will doubtless be eager to read all about this hitherto unheard of excise tax, I have copied out the sections of the Bill aoted on by the House tonight, in the amended form in which they were agreed to, and send them to yon without delay. Tbey read as follows: Be it enacted, &c.t That on and after the first day of July, 1866, in lieu of the dnties on unmanufactured cotton as provided in "An Aot to provide internal revenue to sapport the Government, to pay interest on the public debt, and for other purposes," approved June thirtieth, 1864, as amended by the Act of March third, 1865, there shall be paid by the producer, owner or holder, upon all cotton prodaoed within tbe United States, and upon which no tax has been levied, paid or collected, a tax of five cents per pound as hereinafter provided; and the weight of such cotton shall be ascertained by deducting four per centum for tare from the gross weight of each bale or package; and such tax shall be and remain a lien thereon, in the possession of any person whomsoever, from the time when snoh cotton is produced as aforesaid, until the same oholl hono Kaon ouaii uu* v wuvu ) uuu uu utonuaua shall, iu any case, be allowed on raw or unmanufactured cotton of any tax paid thereoD when exported in the raw or unmanufactured condition. But no tax shall be imposed upon any cotton imported from other countries, and on whioh an import duty shall have been paid. Seo. 2. And be it further enacted, That the aforesaid tax upon cotton shall be levied by the Assessor on the producer, owner, or holder thereof. And said tax shall be paid to the Collector of internal Revenue within and for the collection districts in which said cottoD shall have been produoed, and before the same shall have been removed therefrom, except where otherwise provided in this Act; and every Collector to whom any tax upon cotton shall be paid, shall mark the bales or other packages upon which the tax shall have been paid, in suoh manner as may clearly indicate the payment thereof, and shall give to the owner or other persons having-charge of such cotton a permit for the removal of the same, stating therein the amount and payment of the tax, the time and place of payment, and the weight and marks upon the bales and packages, so that the same may be fully identified ; and it shall be the duty of every suoh Collector to keep clear and sufficient reoords of all such cotton inspected or marked, and of all marks and identifications thereof, and of all permits for the removal of the same, and of all his transactions relating thereto, and he shall make full returns thereof, rvmntMtr fn flnmmiaainnop nf Tnfflrnftl Revenue. Sec. 3. And be it further enacted, That the Commissioner of Internal Revenue is hereby authorized to designate one or more places in each collection distriot where an assessor, or an Assistant Assessor, and a Collector or Deputy Colleotor shall be located, and where cotton may be brought for the purpose of being weiged and appropriately marked : Provided, That it shall be the duty of the Assessor or Assistant Assessor, and the Collector or Deputy Collector to assess and cause to be properly marked tbe cotton wherever it may be in said district, provided their necessary traveling expenses to and from said designated place, for that purpose, be paid by the owners thereof. Sec. 4. And be it further enacted, That all cottoo having been weighed and marked as herein provided, and for which permits shall have been duly obtained of tbe Asses sor, may be removed from the district in which it has been produced to any other district, without pre-payment of the tax due thereupon, upon tbeexeoutioD of such transportation bonds or other security, and in accordance with such regulations as shall be prescribed by the Commissioner of Internal Revenue, subjeot to the approval of the Secretary of the Treasury. The said cotton so removed shall be delivered to the Collector of Internal Revenue, or his deputy, forthwith upon its arrival at its point of destination, and shall remain subject to his control until the taxes thereon, and any necessary charges for the custody thereof, shall have been paid; but nothing herein contained shall authorize any delay of the payment of said taxes for more than ninety days from the date of the permits; and when cotton shall have been weighed and marked, for which a permit shall have been granted without pre-pay ment of the tax, itshall be the duty of the Assessor granting such permit to give immediate notice of such permit to the Collector of Internal Revenue for the district to which said cotton is to be transported, and be shall also transmit there with a Htafftment of the taxes due thereon, and of the bonds or other securities for the payment thereof, and he shall make full returns and statements of the same to the Commissioners of Internal Revenue. Sec. 5. And be it further enacted, That it shall be unlawful from and after the first day of September, 1866, for the owner, master, supercargo, agent, or other person having charge of any vessel, or for any rail road company, or other transportation company, or for any common carrier, or other person, to convey, or attempt to convey, or transport any cotton?the growth or produce of the United States?to aoy point out of the district in which it shall have been pro duced, unless each bale or paokage thereof shall have attached to, or aocompany it, the proper marks or evidence of the payment of the revenue tax, or a permit of the Collector for such removal, orpermitof the As sessor, as hereiDbefore provided, UDder regulations of the Commissioner of Internal Revenue, subject to the approval of the Sec retary of the Treasury. And any person or persons who shall violate the provisions of this Act in-this respect shall be liable to a penalty of ooe hundred dollars for each bale of cotton so conveyed or transported, or attempted to be conveyed or transported, or to imprisonment for not more than one year, or both; and all vessels and vehicles employed in such conveyance or transportation shall be liable to seizure and forfeiture, by proceedings in any Court of the United States having competent jurisdiction. And all cotton so shipped, or attempted to be shipped, or transported beyond the limits of the collection district in which it was pro duced, without payment of the tax, or the execution of suoh transportation bonds and other seonrity, as provided in this Aot, shall! be forfeited to the United States, and the prooeeds thereof distributed according to the statute in like cases provided. Sec. 6. And be it further enacted, That npon articles manufactured exclusively from cotton when exported, there shall be allowed aa a drawback an amount equal to the internal tax, which shall have been assessed and paid npon snoh artioles in their finished condition, and in addition thereto, a drawback or allowance of as many oents per pound upon the ponnd of cotton cloth, yarn, or other artioles manufacured exclusively from cotton and exported, as shall have been assessed and paid in the form of an internal tax npon the raw cotton, entering into the mannfaotare of said oloth or other artiole, the amount of suoh allowance or drawbaok to be ascertained in suoh manner as may be prescribed by the Commissioner of Internal Revenue, under the direotion of tbe secretary of the Treasury; andsomuoh of Seotiou one hundred aud seventy-one of the Act of June thirty, 1864, "to provide internal revenue to support the Government, to pay interest on the public debt, and for other purposes," as now provided for a drawback on manufactured cotton is hereby repealed. Sec. 7. And be it further enacted, That it shall be tbe duty of every penon, firm or corporation manufacturing cotton for any purpose whatever, in any District where cotton is produced, to return to the Assessor or Assistant Assessor of the District in which such manufacture is carried on, a true statement in writing, oigaed by him, and verified by his oath or affirmation, and a duplicate thereof to the Colleotojr of said Distriot, on or before the tenth day of each month ; and the first statement so rendered shall be on or before the tenth day of July, 1866, and shall state the amount of cotton whiob such manufacturer bad on hand and unmanufactured, or in process of manufacture, on the first day of said month; and each subsequent statement shall show the whole amount in pounds, gross weight, of cotton purchased or obtained, and the whole amount consumed by him in aoy business or process of manufacture during the last preceding oalender mouth, and the quality aud charaoter of tbe goods manufactured therefrom ; and every suoh manufacturer or consumer shall keep a book, in which be shall enter the quantity, in pounds, of cotton whioh he has on haod on the first dav of July, 1866, aod each quantity or lot purchased or obtained by him thereafter; the time aod when and the party or parties from whom the eame was obtained ; the quantity of said cotton, if any, whioh is the growth of the Collection District where the same is manufactured; the quantity, if any, which has not been weighed and marked by any officer herein authorized to weigh and mark the same ; the quantity, if any, upon whioh the tax bad not been paid, so far as can be ascertained, before the manufacture thereof; and also the quantities used or disposed of by him from time to time in any process of manufacture or otherwise, and the quantity and character of the produce thereof, which book shall, at-all times during business hours, be open to the inspection of the Assessor, Assistant Assessors, Collector or Deputy Collectors of the Distriots, Inspectors, or of Revenue Agents; and suoh manufacturer shall pay monthly to the Collector, within the time prescribed by law, the tax herein specified, subject to no deductions, on all cotton so consumed by him in any manufacture, and on whioh no excise tax has previously been paid; and every manufacturer or person whose duty it is so to do, who shall nelect or refuse to make such returns to the Assessor, or to keep such book, or who shall make false or fraudMoo in onnK book, or prooare the same to be so done, io addition to the payment of the tax to be assessed thereon, shall forfeit to the United States all cotton and all prodnctsof cotton in his possession, and shall be liable to a penalty of not less than ohe thousand nor more than five thousand dollars, to be recovered with costs of suit, or to imprisonment not exoeeding two years, in the discretion of the Court; and any person or persons who shall make any false oath or affidavit in relation to any matter or thing herein required shall be guilty of peijury, and be liable to imprisonment not less than two years, nor more than five years : Provided, That nothing herein contained shall be construed in any manner to apply to or affect the liability of any person to any tax imposed by law on the goods manufactured from such cotton. Sec. 8. And be it further enacted, That the provisions of the Aot of Jane, 30,1864, as ameoded by the Act of Maroh, 3, 1866, relating to the assessment of taxes and enforcing the collection of the same, and all proceedings and remedies relating thereto, shall apply to the assessment and collection of the duty, fines, and penalties herein imposed, so far as the same are applicable, and not inconsistent with the previsions herein contained; and that the Commissioner of Internal Re venue, subject to the approval of the Secretary of the Treasary, shall make all necessary roles and regulations for ascertaining the weight of all cotton to be assessed, and appropriately marking the same, generally for carrying into effeot the foregoing provisions of this Act. And the Secretary of the Treasary is authorized to appoint all necessary inspectors, weighers, and markers, of cotton, whose compensation shall be determined by the Commissioner of Internal Revenue, and paid in the same manner as inspectors of distilled spines are paiu. To Boys.?"You are made to be kind, generous, and magnanimous. If there is a bo; in school who has a olnb foot, don't let him know ;ou ever saw it. If there is a boy with ragged oloths, don't talk about rags in bis bearing. If there is a lame bo;, assign him some part in the plaj wbcih does not require muoh running. If there is a dull one, help him to get his I lessons."