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Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, February 01, 1877, Image 1

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ije wis m. grist, proprietor, Jniiejpflirot Ifantilg ftetos pper: Jinr % promotion of tjre political, Social, Hgriattoral anb Conratertial Interests of % Sont|. TEBM8?$3.00 A TEAR, IN ADVANCE.
VOL. 23. ~~ YORKYILLE, S. O., THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 1. 1877. 3STO. 5.
* ? ?
The earth is frozen hard and deep,
And the north-wind goes hissing by
O'er land and sea, with mighty sweep
The billows tossing to the sky.
The heavens wear a sombre hue,
That thicker grows and darker fast,
As the soft snow whirls out to view,
And soon upon the earth is cast.
"Us beautiful?the falling snowAs
it descends so pure and white;
A mantle robe for all below,
More radiant than the dazzling light.
But seel the prattling rills are dumb,
Fast fettered by an icy chain,
And can no longer onward run,
Leaping with joy unto the main.
And hark 1 crouch'd, shiv'ring in each thorn,
The birds sit chirping all the day,
As if praying the piercing storm
In mercy soon would pass away.
But heedless quite, it rushes on,
Striving hard to increase its rage,
And show to all its bitter scorn,
That none may try its wrath to suage.
All living things for shelter flee
Before the rushing tempest's blast,
That shakes the earth ana rocks the sea.
And blows as if 'twould blow its last.
Bat rage, and bowl, and spit yonr spite,
^ And do your utmost to destroy,
r The weak can well defy thy might,
If God for them His power employ.
Soon, peering through the clouds shall shine
The sun, and with his genial glow,
Unbind the brooks, and make them chime
Like* marriage bells, as on they flow.
Tbehlue bird, robin and the wren,
The first sweet messengers of spring,
Will come again where they have been,
And feed with joy, and build and sing.
Then, too, the trees in living green,
Will put new robes of glory on,
And everywhere sweet flow'rs be seen
To cheer the earth that they adorn.
And gamboling flocks, and lowing herd,
Shall thickly crowd each grassy mead;
And show how deep their hearts are stirr'd,
As all in love together feed.
Why, then, despond, or doubt, or fear,.
Though all, be dark and drear without?
A brighter day will yet appear,
And time shall bring tne change about.
'Tis wise to keep the future full
Of strong, bright faith and ardent hope;
When all seems sad, and bleak and dull,
And we our way through darkness grope.
'Tis right and brave to persevere,
And keep moving, though it be slow,
1111 day shall dawn and light appear,
nrv>?? shall Rome TIO more 1
Tf uoic nuiwi w*w? w? , ?
?be Jforg ?eller.
The Earl commenced his narrative, withou
farther preamble, as follows:
"A number of years ago, when I was quit
a young fellow, I went, one autumn, to pay
visit to a distant connection of our family,
minister, who resided in Scotland. I wen
there principally with the object of grous<
shooting, in company with two of my friendi
We were all hospitably received by the minli
ter and his wife, good-hearted country folki
who exerted themselves to the utmost to roak
our"stay enjoyablfi. It was about a week a!
ter our arrival that I unexpectedly becam
acquainted with a young girl residing in th
neighborhood. I met her one afternooi
walking alone in the vicinity of the mansi
She was a protighe of the minister's?bis wife
god-child, I think?and was frequently ?
? their house. She had, on this occasion, bee
^ paying one of her usual visits there, and wa
now on her way home. I bad seen her one
before, when McGregor?that was one of m
friends?and I were out together, and ha
been struck by her beauty and lady-like aj
pearance, but had not spoken to her on tha
occasion. Now, however, I took advant8g
of the opportunity, and made some pretext fo
joining her, introducing myself at the sam
time. She was very shy at first, and seeme
anxious to gee rid of me; but I fancied tha
she was pleased at my notice too, and tha
encouraged me to follow up my first rathe
bold move. I did not suffer from excessiv
modesty in those days. It is needless to de
tail the manner in which, step by step, I grad
ually established an intimacy between as; am
*1 got to be fond of the pretty young thing
She was an artless, affectionate creature, a
transparent in her nature as sunlight, am
soon I discovered that I had quite won he
heart. I must confess that I was slightl
dismayed when this knowledge dawned upoi
me, for at first I had not contemplated goinj
so far. Of course I knew that a marriage b?
^ tween ns would be incongruous, and woqj
(moreover cause serious displeasure at hora<
I was conscious, in fact, of its being a foolis
affair altogether, but having got entangled i
it I did not see how I could get out. Beside:
J as I said before, I really was in love with bei
and as long as I was with her I felt ready t
do almost anything for her sake.
"I considered it advisable to keep oar int
macy, and indeed our acquaintanceship, a s<
cret from the people around there, and I pr<
ailed on ber to do the same. Poor child I 1
would have been better for her if they h^
found it out and pat a stop to it at once
The truth was, I felt pulled two ways. I care
enough about her to make her my wife, but
was not bold enough to brave the consequet
ces that would result froi^uch a step. I ha
no fortune of my own, but I had expectatioc
in the quarter of a rich uncle, which I feare
to throw away, and I foresaw that I was mor
than likely to forfeit these if I married so fa
beneath me. I thought to make compr<
mise, and persuade her into a secret marriag
trusting to time to bring aboutyf favorabl
m result. I could not explain all this to he
but I told her that my people at home ha
formed other plans for me, and vould no dout
be disappointed at my failing to carry thei
out; but that I was sure when once they can
to know her they would be reconciled to 01
marriage, and that all would then be wel
If she bad more readily yielded to ray argi
meats, I believe I should have been less eari
est :n persuading1 her; but she resisted i
first, being very averse to take any rash (
clandestine step, and this piqued my pric
and strengthened my determination to ha\
my way. And she loved me?poor litt
Katie, she made no efWrt to concval her love
"And you loved her," said Geraldine, in
low tone.
"I did, at the time, with all my heart. We]
I urged my plans upon her, and persuade
and argued, and worked upon her feeling
until I won her consent. The end of tl
matter was, that after a few weeks' absenc
during which I was definitely arranging n
mode of action, I returned privately to tl
ineighborhood, met her at the appointed tin
And place, and we went off together."
"And were married ?"
"Certainly not. Did X not say to you,
short while a$o, that I only believed her to be
dead ? If I had married her, and had not
? now the assurance of her death, how could I
have ventured to form another tie ?" <
"True?I beg your pardon," murmured i
Geraldine; "at the moment, I forgot." <
"I had arranged everything for our mar- J
riage, at a certain spot on the Scottish border, ;
where a friend, in whom I confided, was to 1
meet me and assist me in carrying out. my 1
plan. We reached there in safety, but en- 1
countered an unexpected difficulty. .The cler- 1
gym an, whose offices had been engaged for (
me, had been summoned away to visit a dying '
person, at a considerable distance off, and ]
there* was none other in the place. I bad ^
just learned this, when another piece of news *
met me?my father was dangerously ill and <
impatient for my return. I knew not how to '
nnf tnlrp TTfttia with me. I ] '
4 ? ? , ?
could not leave her, unprotected, in a strange
place. I could not send her back home, and
duty urged me to join my father without delay.
I owned, and still own, a small, retired ]
place, in Essex, whither it had been my intention
to carry my bride. There was a little
cottage there large enough to make us a temporary
abode, and here I meant to establish
her, while under the necessity of keeping our
union a secret, placing her in the care of a
respectable elderly woman, whom I had engaged
as housekeeper, and who was already
settled at he* post.
"While I was revolving in my mind the
dilemma in which I was placed, my friend,
who knew of my former arrangements, proposed
to me a scheme which, if I would consent
to it, would assist in solving the difficulty.
He offered to escort Katie to Essex and place
her under the housekeeper's care, where she
would be quite sa? until I could join her,
which in a few days I would probably be able
to do. Now I had the. utmoit confidence in
the honor and .integrity of this man, and I
caught eagerly at his proposal, which I at
once imparted to Katie, assuring her that it
was the best, and, indeed, only means of extricating
ourselves from our unfortunate scrape.
I solemnly promised to join her at the earliest
j possible opportunity, and to bring with me,
when I came, a clergyman who would make us
man and wife. The poor girl was so bewil
dered and distressed, so worn out by our rapid
journey, and so utterly unable, irom ner neip- *
lesaness and inexperience, to decide-upon
anything for herself, that she meekly agreed
to do whatever I might think proper, putting
. as she did, unquestioning faith in my judgment"
G The Earl paused here for a moment, perhaps
to recover from some softened emotion
a which this memory stirred up within him.
|t Geraldine sat silent and motionless, her eyes
h fixed upon the fire, her 'face expressionless
L and pale. She, too, had slumbering memories
within her breast, which were brought in}
to play as her thoughts were carried back to
g those for off days?memories connected with
p. the Earl himself, but in which he seemed to
bear no conscious part I
e "We therefore," continued the narrator
] with a little sigh, "decided upon this plan;
5 and placing Katie in my friend's charge, I
>g bade her adieu and turned out of ray intended
course in order to proceed immediately to
D town-, where my father was at that time staya
ing. If I had had the faintest conception of
3 the true character of the individual in whom
y I placed such blind trust, no earthly considd
eration would have induced me to confide
h that innocent child to his perfidious keeping!
^ Geraldine, he was a traitor?a scoundrel of
e the deepest, darkest dye."r
"Did he,then, betray his trust?" she asked,
e "You shall hear. I went on to London,
d joined my father, who was already recovering
from bis alarming attack; and* seeing him
,t fairly convalescent, as soon as I could make a
x decent excuse for again leaving him, I started
e off once more for my little Essex home,
h "As I approached the house, I thought that
I- it looked strangely lonely and deserted. No
d signs of life were anywhere visible. What if
;. some iccident had happened to Katie on the
s journey, and she had never reached her destid
nation ? With a heart beating with apprer
hension, I pushed open the door, which was
y unlocked, and entered the hall. Here, I imn
mediately found a token of Katie's presence,
g in the shape of a large straw hat hanging 1
5- against the wall. I once more breathed freed
ly. She was here, then, after all. I called
3. her name loudly, but she did not answer. I
h opened every door, looked into every habitan
ble room, but neither she nor the housekeeper
i, could be found. I then concluded that they .
r, must have gone out together for a little stroll,
o and was about to go in quest of them, when a
smothered groan fell upon my ear. I stopped,
j. terrified, and listened. The groan was re}.
peated. It came, apparently, from a cloeet at
i-1 the farther end of the hall, which I had not
t thought of entering. I rushed forward, and (
d tried to open the door, but it was locked, aod '
'j the key was nowhere visible. It did not re- '
d quire any great effort of strength, however, to '
I force the lock, which I speedily, did, and en- 1
i. tering, I saw a pitiful sight. Poor old Mrs.
d Graves, the housekeeper, lay stretched on the 1
is bare floor of this small, dark room, where
d there was no furniture or convenience of any (
e kind, apparently, almost in the agonies of '
ir death. Her face was livid, her eyes were 1
>. sunken, and rolling wildly in their sockets, 1
e, and black lines were about her mouth. Im- '
le agine the astonishment and alarm I felt! I '
r, immediately lifted her from the floor, carried
d her to a sofa in the next room, and did what
>t I could to restore her. It seemed to me that
31 she must have been taken with a fit, cr someie
thing of that sort, and I poured some brandy,
ir which I had in a flask in my pocket, down her
1. throat, not knowing, fn my ignorance, what
j- other remedy to apply. The poor old soul
a- was, in a measure, restored by the dose, and,
it after a time, I was able to gather from her a
>r disconnected account of what had occurred."
le Lord Desborougb paused again. A dark
re cloud had gathered on his brow, and the
le workings of his countenance betrayed the agitation
he felt. Geraldine, her interest now
a painfully aroused, listened almost breathlessly
to hear what was coming next.
11, "She told me," continued the Earl, presentd,
ly; in a low, stern voice, "that Katie had, rajs,
deed, arrived there safely, under the escort of
ie the fieud to whose care I had so madly eue,
trusted her. That she had appeared tired
ly and nervous, but otherwise well, and that for
ie the first day everything seemed to go smoothie
ly. The man?ber so-called protector?asserted
his intention of remaiuing at the cottage
until ray arrival, preteudiug that such
a had been my expressed wish, though I had
pot expected, or desired, anything of th<
"On the second afternoon, Katie, who, poo
child, had been crying nearly all day, an<
seemed dreadfully unhappy, came to Mrs
Graves and asked if she thought she migh
go out for a little walk, it was so dull ant
lonely in the house. ThehouBe-keeper seeing
nothing wrong in the request, of course read
tly agreed to it, and Katie having put on he:
hat and gone out, she thought no more of thi
matter, until, about & half hour later, a lout
cry in the direction of the orchard Btartlet
her. She ran to the door, and presently es
pied Katie running toward the house with 2
Pace of terror, and apparently in great dis
tress. No one else was in sight. As she per
jeived Mrs. Graves she exclaimed, breathless
ly, 'Oh, Mrs. liraves, don't let him come neai
me!' and when she got inside the .door sb<
threw herself down, crying and wringing hei
aanda, and begging to be sent home to hei
mother. It Beemed that the villain, whom
aame I will not mention, had met her in th<
jrchard, and had dared to offer her some in
lult, taking advantage of her unprotected sit
nation, and supposing, probably, that he coulc
make free with a girl whom he considered s<
iar his inferior; but on her crying oat he hac
;urned off and left her, and she did not know
vhere he now was. The housekeeper soothec
aer, and tried to make light of what had oc
:urred, saying that, no doubt, he was a wile
foung gentleman, who didn't think it was anj
larm to kiss a pretty girl when he had tb<
jbance, and so on.< But Katie's mo hac
seen terribly outraged by his impertinence
ind it seemed impossible for her to be cob
"Well, somehow this blew over. The fel
ow himself came in private to Mrs. Graves
md explained to her that he had only meant
t for a little joke, and begged her to tell Ea
,ie bow sorry be was for having offended her
ind that he would be very careful not to d(
mything of the sort again/ In short, as th<
)ld woman expressed it, "he spoke so fair h<
juite threw dust in her eyes," and she believed
ivery word he said. Still, having found oui
lis bold character, she said she thought il
lest to keep Katie strictly under her eye
vbich she did, until ODe unlucky afternoon
vhen, being in want of some necessary house
lold article, she was obliged to go to th<
learest village, some three miles off, to pro
Hire it.
"Whether during her absence, Katie, of he:
>wn free will, bad left the house, er this wretcl
lad enticed her out, she could not tell; bui
vhen she returned, neither of them were any
vhere to be found. Immediately fearing thai
lometj^ing was wrong, she hurried off to searct
,he grounds. A little way from the door sh<
licked up Katie's scarf, and still farther 01
ler hat, which the wind was blowing aboui
iver the grass. Suddenly she perceived th<
nan coming toward her. He looked dreadful
y excited, and she saw directly that some
hing had happened, and rushing up to hin
>alra/4 kim arkiAra PTnt.io was ? TnRfPftd nf Oriv
g her a satisfactory answer he swore at her
laying that it was no business of hers, anc
hat she had better leave him alone. Thei
ihe cried out, "0, you villain, you've don<
tome wrong to that poor girl, as sure as J
ive; but Mr. Mortimer shall know ol'it, anc
ie'11 call you to account." She had scarce!)
jttered the words when he flew at her like t
vild beast and seized her by the throat; sh<
ainted away, and knew nothing more unti
she found herself lying on the floor in th<
floset, where he must have dragged her and
ocked her in. She said that he must have
learly strangled her, for her sufferings 01
coming to were intense, and she swooned sev
jral times afterward. She could not help her
self in any way, and must have died of star
nation had I*not arrived in time to save hei
ife. Whether all this had happened twe
lays or more before I came, Bhe was unable t(
-ell, but she was sure it was at least as long
is that. As to the scoundrel himself, he hac
lisappeared, and no trace of him could b(
ound, then pr afterwards, though the strictest
possible search was made."
"Do you think then that he had killed her?'
tsked Geraldine, in an awe-struck tone.
"God only knows. It seems too likely thai
mcb was the case," rejoined the Earl. "Oth
jrwise, it was strange that she, too, had so
jompletely disappeared. If she had been any
vhere in hiding, she must certainly have beec
found. I was so terribly shaken by this un
tooked for termination of my plans, that affcei
irying every means to have the affair cleared
jp, and finding them all unsuccessful, I weni
ibroad, and remained several years, not being
?ble in any degree to recover my peace o
mind at home. As far as that goes," he ad
led, sighiug, "I have not yet recovered it, noi
lo I expect ever to do so. For I cannot but
feel that I have the guilt of that poor inno
cent girl's unhappy end in a great measure or
my own shoulders."
"Did W parents ever know?" asked Ger
ildine, after a pause.
Lord Desborough shook his bead. "I raus
confess that in that respect I behaved like t
coward," he replied. "I could not make u|
my mind to tell them about it. I heard, af
ter my return to England, that they were botl
lead. But some of the family?some broth
ers, I believe?are still living. I have nevei
visited that Dart of Scotland since."
He looked so unhappy,.as he sat brooding
in the silence which followed, over the recol
lection of that dark episode, that Geraldim
longed to comfort him. How readily, if shi
had dared, would she have spoken words o
tenderness, of consolation?yes, reader, evei
to him; for in her heart, no longer passion
less and cold, an unutterable yearning ha(
been awakened, strengthening with each day
each hour of her life. But he, still calrah
distant, or, at best kind, merely with th<
kindness of a friend, as he professed hirasel
to be, gave her no encouragement to exprea
her feelings, which she would have died rath
er than betray.
The Earl had, while speaking, mechanical
ly retained her hand in his. He now gentl;
put it aside, and rising from his seat, walket
to the window and drew the curtain back.
"How itstorm8!" he said, looking out. "1
dreary night, indeed, for poor Katie's ghost t
'walk,' as the Scottish people say, if so, indeed
it does."
"Do not speak of that again," said Geral
dine, shuddering. "Its brings all my foolis!
terror back."
"It was wrong of me," rejoined the Ear
e coming again to her. side. "Let me advise 4
you, Geraldine, to have Meredith in your i
r room to-night It will make you feel more 1
1 secure to know that yon are not alone. But i
i. now, let me tell you of something which is in t
t my mind. Do yon know that since you have i
1 told me of your experience to-night, and also t
I on that first occasion, and I have coupled it
with my own, I am moved, by a very strong i
r impulse, to go to my place in Essex and s
9 make another desperate search for some clue 1
1 to Katie's fate ?" i
1 "After all these years I It would be use- i
- less," she replied. 1
i "I am not sure of that It seems to me e
that these manifestations?visitations?what- c
ever we may term them?must be Bent to us r
with Borne special object The vision, on each t
r occasion of its appearance, has been in the s
3 attitude of beckoning or pointing toward the c
r door, as if signaling us to follow it out When 1
r it did not appear, and we simply felt its pres- 1
3 ence, it signified the same desire. Did it not c
3 bid vou three times-to 'come,' and did yon i
- not feel its band V ,
"Yes," interrupted Geraldine, in an agita'
ted voice, "but if you knew what a horrible
} sensation the very remembrance causes
1 me?
' "I would not recall it? Well, again, L
must sue for your pardon. But I thought
you were too strong-minded a woman, Geraldine,
to allow yourself to be so entirely overcome."
3 "I do not pretend to be strong-minded, my
lord. I find, in fact, that I am very weak'
minded?in more respects than one."
"I have yet to discover that," said the Earl.
"However, as I-was saying, I have conceived
a strong desire to go to Essex and see what
' I can do there. My only difficulty is?leavi
ing you here alone."
"That difficulty could be obviated," said
' Geraldine, timidly, "but in a way, it is true,
} which you might not find agreeable."
* "And what is that, may I ask ?"
5 "By allowing md to accompany you."
"Allowing you! I should be extremely
^ glad of your companionship,"- said Lord
" Desborough, cordially. "But I did not pro?
pose such a scheme, knowing how many dif?
ficulties are in the way. For one thing alone,
the house there now is barely habitable."
5 "I could make it more comfortable for you,
my lord."
"Nay, Geraldine, if it is on my account ^
that you wish to go?" '
"It is not on your account alone, or even 8
chiefly, that I wish it," said Geraldine, quick'
ly. "The truth is* I do not care to remain 8
here alone. But if you object to my accom- 1
pauying you, I could, of course, go to my f
mother's house, and remain there until your 8
"Heaven forbid," hastily exclain^ed the '
Earl. "Excuse me, Geraldine, I do not mean
anything disrespectful?but unless you have 1
a particular desire to see your mother again
already, I do not see the necessity for you to r
pay her a visit so soon. Gome with me, by .
all means, if you are not afraid of the incon* 1
veniences of the trip. As I said before, I 8
shall be only too glad of your society."
Geraldine was secretly oveijoyed at this c
permission, which waB too readily given to
allow her to feel any reluctance to proht by I
it. Not for worlds would she have remained
without her husband's protection in this
"haunted house," as she now considered it to 1
be, and she was almost equally averse to the 8
idea of returning, even temporarily,,to her '
former home, though she had herself proposed
to do so. c
"When will you start ?" she asked.
atf A _ ? ? ? ? "An A?? " vonlSo/) ?
"A8 BUU1J OS JTUU VQU gcfc 1L1WIJ, lufjuvu
" the Earl.
"I can be ready at any moment; to-mor- *
row, if you wish it, and at as early an hour
) as you please. How long do you propose to
| stay ?" C
| "That must depend upon circumstances. ^
I may remain but a few days; I may be de3
tained much longer. Our best plan will be tl
' to carry a sufficient wardrobe for a week, and
if^we find that we are obliged to prolong our ^
stay, we can send back home for whatever
else we need. I fear, however, that it will be
hurrying you too much to set off as early as
to-morrow morning."
, "By no means. Meredith oan put up my
k things easily to-night. She will not, of course, a
" go with us ?"
1 "Why not ? You can not dispense^ with
" her services."
1 Geraldine smiled. "You forget, my lord, jj
' how many years I have played lady's maid
for myself," she rejoined. "At home, I was ^
' quite unaccustomed to be waited upon, and ^
t will find no difficulty in resuming my old
> habits. It appears to me that Meredith, on
f such an excursion, would be rather a useless
* appendage." _
r "Perhaps you are right," said the Earl. a
"You will, however, need some one about you
to keep the house comfortable, for we can de- t
1 pend on only rough country help out there. ^
I ahall take dudson witn us?ne can turn ma j
' band, on occasion, to almost anything ; and I g
think that one of the younger servants?that ?
t nice-looking girl who assists to keep your
1 rooms in order, for instance?would be your
} best choice."
* . "You mean Alice. Yes, she will do very
1 well, I think. Well, since that is settled, and t
' it is already late, I suppose I had better not I
r sit up any longer, so I will bid you good- *
night," said Geraldine, rising, not without re- 1
, luctance, for her timid feeliDgs had by no [
* means been dispelled. The Earl, as usual, i
3 lighted her up-stairs. As they traversed the I
e corridor a gust of wind, entering through a (
f window carelessly left open, blew out the cani
die, leaving them in total darkness. To Ger- -f
- aldine's excited fancy it appeared that she j
1 heard footsteps behind them, and with an in- ?
, voluntary exclamation of terror she seized her t
7 husband's hand. ' 8
2 "JLJe calm, lieraidine, saia trie ?>ari, iu a
^ soothing toue, as he passed his arm gently
3 around her trembling form. "There is noth*
ing here to hurt you?with me you are safe."
Supporting her thus, he guided her through
the darkness to her own door. Within, a bright
Y light and a cheerful fire burned, and by the
1 fire sat Meredith, patiently waiting to attend
I "How foolish you must think me," said '
o Geraldine, vexed at her own weakness, as he
I, opened the door for her. "I cannot tell what
has come over me this evening. I do not re
member ever being so childish before."
b "I cannot blame 'you," replied the Earl,
"after the shock youn nerves received awhile
[, ago. Remember," he added, in a lower tone,
'that if anything farther occurs to startle
'ou, I shall be within call. Take my advice,
lowever, and have Meredith near by. Goodlight,
now, and try to banish^all uneasy
bought*. I trust you will rest undisturbed
intil morning." He pressed her hand kindly,
ind was gone.
In spite of all her efforts, Geraldine could
iot.8leep. Long after she bad retired to bed
he tossed and turned uneasily on her pillow,
ter overstrung nerves painfully on the alert,
rhile her unconscious Abigail snored peaceully
in the adjoining apartment, where, at
ler mistress' desire, she had settled herself on
i couch for the night. Hour after hour
ihimed, and still in vain did Geraldine court
epose. At last a sound fell distinctly, unmisakably,
upon her ear?the sound of footteps,
measured and regular, softly pacing the
lorridor outside. She sat up in bed, pressing
ler hand to her beating, heart, and listened,
ifes, it was certainly not imagination. Some
tne, or something, waswalking there. What
vasit? What could it be? She was about
o call for Meredith, bnt checked herself.
Vfter all, what good could tht do her ? After
lesitating for a short time, she determined to
ise and find oat whence the sound proceeded.
Anything was better than lying there, or siting
up, and listening to that mysterious pace,
>ace, which, after all, was not likely to be a
piritual tread, since spirits were noiseless in
heir movements?at least, so her experience
lad taught her. She rose hastily, lest her
esolution might fail her, threw on a silk
wrapper that lay at hand, and lighting a canlie,
softly opened her door and looked out.
1 faint glimmer, proceeding from a cross pasage
near by, attracted her thither, and as she
ipproached it the footsteps sounded still more
ilainly. She paused, irresolute. Gould it be
lossible that a thief had made his way into
hehouse? But no thief would spend his
ime marching up and down the passage wayB,
iven were it possible for one to force his enrance
through the seeurejy fastened doors
>elow. As she stood uncertain whether or i
tot to go on, a figure suddenly appeared at
he corner where the larger and smaller coridors
crossed at right angles. It was Lord
3esborough himself, who, arrayed in dressing;own
and slippers, was slowly pacing to and 1
ro, by the light of a shaded lamp, placed on
i table at some distance off.
As he perceived her, he came forward 1
[uickly to meet her, while an exclamation of
stonishmentjrose to her lips. "Geraldine, is '
my thing the matter V' he eagerly asked.
"Nothing, except that I heard footsteps, 1
,nd came to find ont whose they were," she 1
eplied, more relieved than she could ex- 1
iress. "But why are you here, my lord, at 1
uch an hour?" 1
"I feared you might be disturbed, and 1
rould not go to my room," said the Earl. 1
Do you not remember that I promised to renain
within call, should you need me?"
"Surely," rejoined Geraldine, "you have :
tot been in this passage all night?"
"Yes, I have spent my time partly in walk- 1
ng up and down, partly in lounging on that 1
ofa yonder; but I felt not the slightest incli- 1
lation to sleep. Had I known that my steps '
listurbed you, I should not have moved a>out
at all, but I fancied that with my slip- 1
>ers on you could not hear me." 1
Geraldine, greatly touched by this proof of
lis consideration, could scarcely frame a re-11
>ly. "I do not know bow to tbaok you," she
aid, in a low tone, "or express my appreciaiod
of your kindness. I only regret having
teen tbe cause of your suffering so mucb in- 1
"It was'no such terrible inconvenience," he
inswered, smiling. "I was quite willing to
ose a night's rest, with such an object in 1
riew. But it is not wise in you to stand so 1
ong in this chilly passage, Geraldine, lightly 1
lad as you are. Go back to your room at '
ince, or you will surely take cold."
He spoke with authority, but she lingered j
t moment longer. "I entreat you to go also 1
,nd take some rest," she exclaimed, earnestly.
'To-morrow you are going on a journey, and '
rill be quite worn out. I shall be really unlappy
if you remain up any longer on my acount."
Something in her look and tone?an invol- !
intary softening of tbe one, a tremor in the
ither?struck him. He looked fixedly at her
,nd seemed as though on the point of making
ome earnest reply, but checked himself as
he words rose to bis lips.
"Do not be unhappy, then," he said, in a
wnflft vntftfl. "I will do as vou wish, though '
' assure you I am oot at all the worse for my 1
rigil. ^ :ce more, good-night, and sleep well
intil morning. You need not rise earlier
han usual, as we shall not set eut before nine
t'olock." 1
Geraldine accepted this as ber dismissal,
ind with a murmured "good-night," slowly re- '
urned to her room, where, having again
ought her pillow, she presently fell asleep,
ind slumbered undisturbed until it was time
o rise. The morning dawned clear and
>right, and at the appointed hour they set off
n a traveling carriage with Judson, the valet,
ind Alice, the little chambermaid, in attenlance
on their journey. i
[to be continued.]
Spoiled His Piety.?Horace Greeley used
o affirm that newspaper men were the most
>atient people, as a class, on earth ; and he
vas not far from right, though there are times
vhen patience ceases to be a virtue with the
nost enduring. Nearly everybody in Michi- ,
;an knows Burr, who used to gtart a newspa>er
about once a month the year round, genirally
bringing them out in Grand Rapids, ,
/i .! i
)ut sometimes maxing a nyiug trip 10 utuer
mints. Burr could stand to be told that he 1
ied about circulation, was on the fence as a 1
politician, and that be didn't know anything
ibout publishing a paper; and when men i
hreatened to sue or thrash him, he only <
imiled a sad smile and wished that mankind |
vouldn't get excited. During a religious rerival
in Grand Rapids, Burr was converted,
md it frequently happened that religious peo)ie
called at his office to talk with him. One '
lay a minister came in, and after talking a
vhile, he proposed prayer. He was in the '
ict of kneeling, when his foot struck one of (
he outside forms, which was leaning against (
i leg of the stone, ready to be lifted up, and
>ver it went, making half a bushel of pi.
Burr looked at the ruin wrought, thought of
he two weeks of overwork, and commenced 1
aking off his coat, sayiDg:
"I'm trying to be a Christian, and set a ,
jood example, but rat my buttons if I can't
ick you in just two minutes I"
The clergyman backed down stairs in no
;ime, dodging the lye brush on the way, and
Burr backslid at once, and sent down for a
pint of stimulant.
pstotg of jr. toota.
Early Settlement of South Carolina.
General Greene was not long in discover- ]
ing the intentions of the British Earl. He [
determined to disconcert all his plans and j
frustrate all his strategy. When Morgan left i
the Cowpens, the forces of Greene were so
situated that they could not act with any ]
concert. The main force waa on Hicks' cretk, <
in Chesterfield county, and Colonel Lee, with ]
the main body of cavalry, was sixty miles j
below Cheraw, acting in concert with Marion. ]
The object which Cornwallis at first had in j
view, was to rescue the prisoners captured by ]
" i. .1 - n-:i: ,u;. u? .
iYiorgau at me v^uwpuus. jcmuug iu tuio, u?
next object was to overtake Morgan and destroy
his division before it conld be joined' by
Huger and Lee.
So soon as Greene discovered the condition
of things, he ordered Huger, Williams and
Lee, to join Morgan either at Charlotte or
Salisbury. It was not long before it became
evident that this could not be done. Guilford
Court House was then appointed as the place
at which the several detachments should
unite. Apparently, the existence of Greene's
army 'depended upon this Onion. On the
other hand, the success of the British depended
upon keeping the several detachments
separate. To form this junction, required
everything that is requisite to constitute a
military chieftain of the highest rank.
Looking at the thing coolly and dispassionately,
the chances were all against Greene
and in favor of Cornwallis. Nothing but dire,
necessity could induce any officer to undertake
what Greene undertook. He knew that
he was dealing with a general of no ordinary
skill and courage. He was fully persuaded
that every wrong move on his part would be
promptly improved by his enemy. As we
have seen, Cornwallis, that he might succeed c
in his undertaking, had destroyed, on the 25th i
of January, all his superfluous baggage. c
Having completed the arrangements for the f
advance of Morgan's troope, General Greene c
Bet out from the Catawba for Salisbury. A t
few miles from Torrence's tavern, he and j
Smitb halted, that Gen. Davidson and the mi- a
litia might come up. Here, exposed to the f
rain and cold, Greene remained until mid- fl
ight, when he was informed of Davidson's t
death and the rout of the militia at Torrenhe's 1
tavern. Had Tarleton only known where ?
Greene was, with a few men he could. have
captured him and thus blasted all the plans ]
of the Southern army. So soon as Greene *]
learned the actual condition of things with f
the North Carolina militia, he set out at once v
for Salisbury. 8
^HHere he arrived some time between mid- ](
night and. day-break. Cold and wet, hungry Q
and benumbed, disappointed and distressed in r
spirits, he went to a tavern kept by Elizabeth p
Steele. Dr. William Head, a surgeon in the c
American army, was at this time quartered \
in Salisbury. General Greene immediately ^
sent for him. Read arose from his bed, and c
having hastily dressed, went at once to meet ^
TTT? ,| _ A A T>. .J !iL
ijreene. w Den iq? iwo met, amu, wim m- a
tense anxiety, inquired what was the matter. j
"Sir," said Greene, "I am here alone. I am *c
worn out with fatigue. I am hungry and I a
am without a cent of money." ^
These words were heard by Mrs. Steele, and f
it was not long until breakfast was brought t
into his room. While General Greene was G
eating his breakfast, his patriotic hostess en- G
tered the room with a small bag of specie in ?
each band. This money, the earnings of sev- 8
eral years,, was delivered to her guest. At f
Bret he refused to receive it, but Mrs. Steele
forced it upon him, saying, "take it; you need G
it, and I can get along without it." t
In the room in which General Greene was g
breakfasting, there hung a portrait of the l
King of England. Greene took it down and o
wrote upon the back these words: "0, George, ](
bide thy face and mourn;" and then hung the ^
portrait up again with the faee turned to the (
wall. j
General Greene having learned, immediate- G
ly before his arrival at Salisbury, that the (
? tf !iL .11 !
britisb were pursuing morgan, who an poeoi- >
ble speed sent bis aids and other attendants to g
bear dispatches to the different detachments f
of the Southern army. Some were sent to assist
Huger, Williams and Lee in joining {
Morgan, and others were sent to Morgan to d
Inform him of the movements of the British, p
The news of Davidson's death, the disper- Q
sion of the militia and the advance of the J
British, was known in Salisbury by a certain 7
olass of citizens before Greene arrived. A r
plundering party, probably part British and t
part tories, bad that night, but a short time '
before General Greene's arrival, entered the *
town and plundered the houses of several of |
the citizens. Evidently, it was not prudent j
for Greene to remain long in a place where g
he might be captured at any moment Mor- r
gan's corps?at least a portion of it?soon
passed through the town, and Greene followed r
it. Many of the Whigs in the surrounding |
country abandoned their homes, and with ^
their wives and children, followed Morgan.' E
? ' * f . * il _ t j _
During tne day ana nigni 01 me secoua ui v
February, Morgan crossed the Yadkin at '
Trading or Island ford. The horses forded; *
the army baggage was transported in flats.
Some of the wagons belonging to the country g
people, together with a number of citizens, j
were still on the westside of the Yadkin. For t
more than ten days it had been almost con- t
stantly raining. The streams were all flush F
and in a condition to be rendered impassable v
by even a moderate rain. When Morgan's j
forces left Salisbury, it was raining hard. n
Greene knew that the Yadkin would soon be *]
brim full. Hence bis push to cross. On the o
night of the second of February, Earl Corn- o
wallis, with the royal army, camped in Salis- a
bury. The headquarters of the British Earl
was in the house of Dr. Anthony Newman, li
This gentleman, although a genuine Whig, h
dispensed a generous hospitality to the invading
foe. Here an incident occurred which
will serve to illustrate the spirit of the times.
The two little sons of Dr. Newman were g
engaged in "playing war." Their forces were s
represented by grains of corn. Part of these
corns were red?these represented the Brit- 2
ish ; another part was white?these represen- ^
ted the Americans. The boys had their men ^
and their officers. Prominent among the
commanders were Col. Washington and Col. fc
Tarleton. The battle in whicb the boys were 11
it this time engaged in playing, was that of
;he Cowpens. Having imbibed the spirit of
heir native land, they so marshalled their
brcee that the white grains of corn chased
ihe red. Then the little fellows, with joyful
ihonts, wonld scream at the top of their
voices; "Tarleton runs?-hurrah for Waahngton!"
Tarleton, who was so unfortunate
ts to be present, bore this innocent, but cuting,
language, for a time, with becoming diglity.
It is the truth, however, that hurts.
The rash Englishman, no longer able to bear
;he insult, turned toCordwallis and said, "Do
?uu see those cursed little rebels?"
Gornwallis ordered General O'Hara to take
lis guards, the regiment of Bose, and the
ravalry, and pursue hastily after Morgan.'
Ee had been informed by his scouts that Morgan
had not yet crossed the Yadkin. The
light was dark, the roads bad and it was rainng.
The result was that O'Hara did not
reach the Trading ford until midnight, and
vhen he did arrive, he found that Morgan's *
nen, except a small detachment left to guard
;he wagons of the citizens who were following
Jie army, were all over the river and the flats
ill on the east bank.
mi-. A ! A ... .11
. ioe Amennui nrmjr uiweu vu n?u ? ?
possible speed toward Guilford Court House.
3n the seventh of February, the whole Amercan
army, ineluding Lee's cavalry, arrived
it the point which had been designated for a
unction. On the next day, the united forces
vere mustered and found to be two thousand
ind two hundred Of these, five hundred
trere militia, and two hundred and seventy
fere cavalry. All were in sad condition.
Morgan's men had been moving constantly
lince the battle of the Cowpens. They, to
ivoid Cornwallis, had marched one hundred
ind fifty miles over bad roads, crossed by.swolen
streams, in twenty days. The forces unler
Huger had marched about one hundred
niles. The distance traversed gives us no
)roper idea of the labor these men encounterid.
It was in the dead of winter. The army
fagons and army teams were wretohed in the
ast degree. The men were all nearly naked;
here were but few blankets in either Morgan's
>r Hover's come, and no small number of the
oen were absolutely "barefooted. The won*
ler is that these hungry and naked and bareoo
ted soldiers did nqt sink beneath the toils
if the maroh and breathe out their lives by
he way. The trials and difficulties of the
American soldiers, while in winter quarters
it Valley Forge, are constantly mentioned as
in example of patriotio endurance. Greene's
rmy was in a far worse condition, and, yet
he men were forced to march night and day;
Che road over which they passed was covered
vith bloodsvhich ran from their bare-feet
Baffled again by an interposition of Divine
'rovidence, Cornwallis called O'Harafrom
Crading ford to Salisbury. From documents
bund in possession of some of the militia
rho had fallen into his hands or been killed
ince crossing the Catawba, Cornwallis had
earned, with very great accuracy, the plans
f General Greene* But for the rains which
oade the Yadkin impassable, all Greene's
liana would have been blasted. Unable to
ross the Yadkin at Trading ford, and onwil*A
Mmain inonh'vA (III) Iflt ftrflflTlA MMIM
lug (A/ IOUJH1U AUHWVI f V W-v. av?>
[oietly beyond his grasp, Cornwallis comaenced
bis march on the west side of the river,
letermined to continuelt until he would reach
, point where the river could be forded. Even
u this direction, the way was not entirely
pen. The militia of the country had rallied
. d destroyed the bridge over Grant's creek.
Phis amounted to only a temporary delay;
or the bridge was soon repaired and the miliia
dispersed. The British army, without
oeeting with any other important opposition,
Qoved forward and crossed the Yadkin at the
ihallow fords, and passed into the Moravian
ettlement on the very day that the American
orces reached Guilford Court House.'
The two armies were now within twenty-five
oiles of each other. In respect to numbers,
he British was about three hundred the largr,
and in every particular, except cavalry
torses, better provided for. Cornwallis was
m Greene's left, and equally as near the Shalow
fords of the Dan. Having failed to preent
the junction of Greene's detachments,
Cornwallis now determined on forcing the
k.merican General to fight. This he knew
nnat ha dnnA before Greene crossed the.Dan.
Jreene, on the other hand, determined, in
dew of the circumstances by which he was
urrounded, to make a desperate effort to keep,
or the present, oat of the reach of Cornwallis.
Never, daring the whole war, bad the afairs
of the Sooth been in a more critical conlition.
In fact, the resalt of the war was
riaeed in a critical condition. If GAene was
inly across the Dan, he woald be safe; bat
tow was this to be accomplished J All the
treams were swollen and Cornwallis was 4
tearer than Greene to points where it was
tarely possible to ford the Dan. Cornwallis
ras as well prepared to pursue as Greene was
o retreat Under the circumstances, Greene
tared not risk an engagement. Cornwallis
mew thia, and hence having failed in all his
trevioas plans, he determined to bring on a
;eneral fight before Greene could reach the
iver and cross over into Virginia.
The ooantry was filled with distress. Eve*
y one that coald leave home, connected
hemselves with Greene's army. All the able
odied men and boys anions; the Whigs enered
the army as militia soldiers. The old
sen and old women and little children only
rere left at home. This was the case only
rhere the peooniary circumstances of the
amily would not allow them to do otherwise.
Che country was left to the mercy of the toie8
and British. These, in small squads,
coured the country, devouring and destroy g
every thing within their reach. To avoid
heir treacherous cruelty, old men were forced
o conceal themselves in thickets. The purK>ae
of Cornwallis, when he left Winnsboro,
pas to supply his army from the country
hrough which he passed. This purpose he
iterafiy carried out No requisitions were
aade upon the British treasury for supplies.
The campaign cost the English government
lothing in money. It was a terrible tax upn
the Whigs in the region through which thermy
The Length op Days.?At London, Eng.
and, and at Bremen, Prussia, the longest day
ias 16} hours.
At Hamburg, Qermany, and at Dantzig,
Russia, the longest day has 17 hours, and the
hortest 7 hours.
At St Petersburg, in Russia, and at Tobolsk,
Siberia, the longest day has 19 hours, and the
hortest 5 hours.
At Tornea, in Finland, the longest day has
!1} hours, and the shortest 2} hours.
'At Wardneys, in; Norway, the day lasts
rom May 21st to July 2d, without interrup*
ion. ' f
At New York tne longest day, June 20,
ias 14 hours and 56 minutes; at- Montreal,
5} hours.
' jM

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