The Hartford herald. [volume], February 17, 1875, Image 1

About The Hartford herald. [volume] (Hartford, Ky.) 1875-1926

Image provided by: University of Kentucky, Lexington, KY

                
SUBSCRIFHON. HATES-
THE HARTFORD HERALD.
One sqnare, one insert on . .$
One square, each additional insertion.
00
SO
One copy, on. yesr- .1 f ft.
Ten copies, one yesr- 17 00
Twenty copies, one je&r:.. T 30 OB
une square, one year..-....
One-fourth eolnmn jer year,
One-third colamn, per J ear
One-half eolnmn, per year
One eolnmn, one year-.....
10 00
30 00
40 00
60 00
100 00
An additions! copr.J'ree of ehsrre, to the -
getter-op of a cinb of ten or twenty. ' '
As we are compelled by law to pay postage
in advance on papers- sent ontiide of Ohio
county, we are forced to require payment on
subscriptions in advance. '
For snorter time, at proportionate rates.
One inch of apace constitutes a sqnare.
The matter of yearly dVertisements changed
quarterly free of charge. For farther particu
lars, addrerss
Jko. P. BiKirxt A Co., Pnhlishers,
"I COME, THE HERALD OF A NOISY WOULD, THE NEWS OF ALL NATIONS LUMBERING AT MY BACK"
All papers win Do promptly sunped' at to.
expiration of tbe t-me subscribed fur-
VOL. 1.
HABTFOBD, OHIO COUNTY, KY FEBRUARY 17, 1875.
NO. 7.
All letters on basinets mast be addressed. ta
Jko. P. IUsectt & Co., Bubl'uhi-rs,.
-A-TDVEHTISING- KATES.
J AXE.
BT X0K1 rKrfKT.
Ehe came alone; ttie IHtle lane
Where all the bushes dripped with rain.
And robbins rang and tang again,
Af if with indden, theer delight,
For uch a world so fresh and bright,
To swing and sing in day and night.
Bat, coming down the little lane,
Ehe did not heed the robin's strain.
Nor feel the sunshine after rain.
A little face with two brown eyes,
A little form of tender size
Jl little head not very wise;
A little heart to match the head,
A foolish little heart that bled
At every foolish word was said.
So, coming down the little lane
I see her now, my little J ane
Her foolish heart with foolish pain
Was aching, aching in her breast,
And all her pretty golden crest
Was drooping as if sore opprest.
And something, Uo, of anger's trac
VTas on the flashed and frowning face,
And in the footsteps' quickened pace.
Eo swift (he stepped, so low she leant
Her pretty head, on thought intent,
Ehe scarcely saw the way she went.
Nor saw the long, slim shadow fall
Across the little, lew stone wall,
As some one rose np slim and tall
Rose up, and came to meet her there
A youth with something in his air
That, at a glance, revealed his share
In all this foolish, girlish pain,
This grief and anger and disdain
That rent the heart Of little Jane.
'With hastier steps than hers he came,
And in a moment called ber name;
And in a moment, red as flame,
She blushed, and brushed, and in her eyes
A sadden, soft and shy surprise
Did suddenly and softly rise.
"What,you?" she cried,"! though t-they said'
Then stopped, and blnsbnds. deeper red,
And lifted np her drooping head.
.Shook back her lovely falling hair.
And arched her neck and strove to wear
A nonchalant and scornful air.
A moment thus they held apart,
With lovers' lore and lover's art;
, Then swift he caught ber to his hcnrU
What pleasure then was born of pain,
What sunshine after cloud and rain,
As they forgave and kissed again!
'Twss April then; he talked of May,
And planned therein a wedding day;
She blushed, bat scarcely said him nay.
What pleasure now is mtxe with pain,
As, looking down the little Jano,
A graybeard grown, I see again,
Through twenty Aprils' rain and mist.
The little sweetheart that I kiued,
the little bride my folly missed!
MARIA SAX0NBURY.
i
BT MRS. HENRY WOOD.
ACTBOE OF "SUBT LTHKK," "VERKKE'S PBIDE,'
"TBI VTSIKXY," "THE EABL's HEIBS,"
"IHK CHA-CKINGS, "X LITE'S
SECXfcT," ic, Ac
CHAPTER XIIL
TEE OABDEJfEK'e WORD AGAfSST THE GEN
txexam's.
Mr. Yorke and Henry went out for an
early walk the following morning. As
Mrs. Yorke and Miss Hardisty were wait
ing breakfast for them, they were sur
prised by a visit from Squire Hipgrave.
"What a horrible thine this is!" he ex
claimed to Mrs. Yorke, when the intro
duction to Miss Hardisty was over. "You
have heard about poor Janson?"
"Yes," 6he faintly said. Is he dead?
"Dead! the wretches who murdered
him took care of that. They left no life
in him.1'
"Then it it Mr. 'Jansonl" interposed
Miss Hardisty. "Mr. Yorke said eo, but
one of 'the servants here insisted that it
was a fanner.
"It's both,' answered Squire Hipgrave,
"A double murder: Never has this quiet
neighborhood been so stained. Young
Louth was passing through the village on
his way home from market, and, about
a mile beyond it, he was ehot from his
horse and robbed, lie nod been selling
etock. and had got a good round sum
about him, which, as is supposed, was
known. Janson' s affair is different"
"He was going into his house by the
back entrance, and was set upon just in
side the garden door, and beaten to death,
Mr. Yorke told us," said Miss Hardisty.
-mat is correct, roor young fel
low!"
"It must have occurred soon after he
left here," 6aid 'Mrs. Yorke, speaking
with an effort.
"Was he here last night?" asked Squire
Hipgrave, eagerly.
"In the afternoon," replied Mrs. Yorke.
"lie called as lie was returning from his
risit to Lady Bich, and saw Leopold. It
was five o'clock when he left, but quit
dark. -the fog was so thick."
"Ob, that was hours before the murder.
The precise time of its committal has not
been ascertained. He was found about
ten o clock. '
"That must be a mistake," said Miss
Hardisty. "Mr. Yorke was home before
seven. "
"But he did not know it then."
"Yes, he did."
"Impossible," said Squire Hipgrave,
"Janson was not found until ten o'clock;
not a eouI knew of it previous to that.
lie was being hunted lor all over toe vil
lage, to co and examine young Louth
and nothing could be seen or heard oi
him, and it was only by the servant
going out to lock the back gate, which
she always did at ten -at nitrht, that he
was found. Did you ever see such a fog
m it wasr
"But indeed Mr. Yorke did tell us
persisted Mies Hardisty. "Certainly not
immediately after he came in I dare say
he was willing to spare us so horrible a
recital as long as was possible but when
Finch got home afterwards from the vil
lage, with the news that a farmer's son
was killed, Mr. Yorke said it was not
a fanner's son, but Mr. Janson. You see
he had heard of the one murder, and the
servant of the other,"
"But Yorke could not have heard that
Janson was murdered before he was mur
dered,' obstinately protested Squire Hip
grave. "And he could not have dreamt it be-
forehand," as obstinately returned the
lady. "The fact must be, that he dm
know or the murder, tnougn an migm
not"
'But it was not known .at all to any
one,'' reiterated the squire; "neither isit
believed to have occurred at that time."
You must perceive that Mr. Yorke
must have known of it, coolly contin
ued Miss Hardisty, suppressing the con
tempt sue was acquiring lor me squire b
understanding. "It was not a mere vague
rumor he had got hold of, but hede
scrihed the facts, which you have just
said were correct; that, the unfortunate
gentleman was killed in his own garden,
close to the gate, and found beaten to
death."
"It ia verr strange. " debated Squire
Hipgrave, struck atlength with the points
placed before him by his antagonist "I
wonder where Yorke heard it?"
"From a man and woman who were
running bv the house as he came in,
readily responded Misa Hardisty, "They
told him Mr. Janeon was murdered. And
that was before seven o'clock.
"Good heavens! it may have been the
very perpetrators themselves! Indeed it
must bave been; no one else would nave
known it We must find those people,'
continued the Squire in his most magis
terial voice. "1 wonder it xorke would
recognize them again?"
It was the gardener and bis wile at
the. cottage higher up, near to Lady
Bich's," interposed Mrs. Yorke.
"Oh they, said the magistrate, con
siderably disappointed when he found
the presumed murderers subside into a
quiet, inoffensive couple, long known.
Til goupand ascertain where they heard
it I'd eive twenty pounds out of my
own pocket to pounce upon the guilty
men, for Janeon was a lavonte oi mine.
Not to speak of the unpleasantness of
having such crimes happen in the neigh
borhood.
Awav went Squire Hipgrave, and was
back again directly. Mr. Yorke and
Henry were then -returning from their
walk.
Good morning, Yorke. How did you
hear the report last night that Janson
was murdered?
"From the gardener, up there what s
his name? Crane," replied Mr. Yorke.
From Crane and his wife? '
"Well it's your word against theirs,"
hesitatingly replied Squire Hipgrave, in
a puzzle. "They say they never told you
anything about Janson; andin fact, did
.. .. , .!tl . 1
not kxiow inemBeives uii una morning
that anything had happened to him.''
"If they choose to eat their words, that
is no business of mine," -said Mr. Yorke.
As I was turning in at this gate last
night it was late, for 1 lost my way in
the foz after I left you, and did not get in
till near 7 Crane and his wife were run
ning by from the village, in great excite
ment They had a torch with them. I
asked what was amiss, and they told me
Janson was murdered. Nobodyelse could
have told me.' proceeded Mr. Yorke.,
saw no one else, and spoke to no one
else.''
"Then what do they mean by denying
U7 asked Squire Hipgrave, sharply.
Upon my wofd. if they were not so well
known, I should suspect they knew some
thing about the murder. 1 wish you
would let me confront Crane with you."
"You are quite welcome to do that,
said Mr. Yorke.
Away went the Squire again, and Mr.
Yorke and Henry leaned over the gate.
watched, and waited for him. Crane's
cottage was within view, and he came
back with the man. Maria and .Bliss
Hardisty came out of the breakfast room,
There eeems some mistake about this
here business, sir,'' said Crane, a civil.
respectful man, "and Squire Hipgrave
have fetched me down along of him, to set
it right"
The mistake is on your part, not on
mine, haucntuv returned Air. xorke.
"You went by here with your wife last
mjui; sue E-eemcu iu a ingui, uuu x iir
quired what was the matter.''
"zes. sir. my wile was frightened, lan-
eying she saw thieves in the hedges;
she haven't run so fast since her joints
got stiff. When you 6topped.ua, sir,
and asked, I told you a poor gentleman
had just been murdered.
Mr. Yorke looked at squire liipgrave.
"You hear," said he. "Repeat what you
did say to me," added he to the man.
"That my wife was frightened, and we
was making chaste home, for a poor gen
tleman had been found murdered, down
yonder, beaten to death. Them was the
words, sir as near as 1 can remember.
"Exactly," said Mr. Yorke.
"But did you say it was Mr. Janson,
Uranef resumed Squire liipgrave, look
ing at tbe man.
".Law no, sir. I couldn t say it as I
have just told you, for"
"You did say it was Mr. Janson. ins
terrupted Mr. Yorke.
"I beg your pardon-?ir. I was just a
going to say to you t night that re.
port went as it was b farmer, but you
turned short away in-doors, and didn't
wait to hear me; and 1 and my wife ran
home. This morning, when the milk-
woman came, she told us about Mr. Jan.
son, that he was murdered and my wife
eat down in a chair though we never be
lieved it at nrst and burst out a crvinu:
for he was more like a friend to us than a
doctor, a-coming up all weathers to her
rheumatiz,and charging us next to notbin:
I'm sure, sir, I speak the truth, when I
say it was not till this morning we heard
about poor Mr. Janson, and that there had
been a double murder.
"A double murder!" echoed Mr. Yorke,
'his face a mixture of astonishment and
perplexity.
"Why, did you not know it?" said
Squire Hipgrave. "Young Louth was
ehot from his horse last evening, and ri
fled of all he had about him. That was
what Crane wished to tell you of; Jan
son was not murdered at least, not found
for hours afterwards.
"And Finch was right, after all, when
she said it was a farmer's son." inter
rupted Olivia Hardisty: "though' you"
looKing at jar. xorke "ridiculed it, and
said it was janson.
"Yorke, where did you hear about Jan.
son?" demaded Squire Hipgrave. "At tin
time you appear to have spoke of it, it
was not Known, in fact, 1 don t believ
it had happened."
There was a blank, distressing pause
an awmi pause.
"Where did you hear about Janson,
ask?" continued Squire Hipgrave. in
voice that sounded strangely uncompro
mising ano ciear.
Still the same ominous pause. Mrs.
Yorke struggled for composure, but her
breath came gaspingly through her ashy
lips. Henry stole around to lier side, as
if by an uncontrollable, impulse, and
Olivia, Hardisty gazed in open dismay at
Mr. Yorke.
'I heard it from Crane," said Mr.
Yorke at length, rousing himself, and
speaking in a firm, deliberate tone.
Though it appears to be his purpose to
deny it now."
Crane shook bis head and turned to
Squire Hipgrave. "The'gentleman'a mak
ing a great mistake, sir, he quietly said.
"I never mentioned Mr. Janson's name
last night.for he never was in my thoughts;
and if anybody had come and told me to
guess who was murdered, (besides the
farmer,) I should leastof all have guessed
Mr. Janson. I'm a going back to my
garden, ladies and gentlemen, and if you
please to want me again, there I shall
The man. with a civil bow. turned
away and went towards his home. Squire
Hipgrave was the next to depart A
strange mantle of constraint seemed have
lallen upon them all.
CHAPTER XIV.
AWFUL DREAD.
Never had the insignificant village of
Offord been so full of stir, excitement, and
dread. Two murders in one night! it was
enough to put fear into the stoJtest heart.
At first it was universally assumed that
the same parties had been guilty of both,
but this impression wore away. Young
Mr. .Louth had evidently been molested
for the purpose of robbery. Not so Mr.
Janson. His watch and chain, his pock
etbook And purse, each containig money,
were all found upon his person, undisturb
ed carrying out Mr. Yorke's assertion
tnat.tbere had been no robbery. How did
he know itf began to ask Olivia Hardisty.
Mr. Janson had a habit of going in at
the back door of his house, through the
garden; it was the quicker mode of en
trance, since at the front he bad to ring: it
was surmised that his assailant must have
known of this; have got into the garden,
and waited for him. He was probably
struck down and stunned, at the moment
of entering, and was again beaten about
the bead one or two blows. The medical
men were asked with what sort of instru
ment "Was it likely to be a gun? spoke
up somebody, while they were deliberat
ing the question probably being dictated
by the remembrance of the shot which had
destroyed the farmer. They replied that
they did think it likely to be a gun, as
ikely. or more likely, than any other
blunt weapon; but, if so, they added, the
gun had probably been broken by the vio
lence of the blows. The blow which had
killed him was an unfortunate one, given
underueath the left ear.
The woman-servant's testimony was as
follows: About six o'clock, (she thought
it must have been,) while she was in her
kitchen, waiting for her master to come
in to tea, she heard a noise in the garden,
to which the kitchen looked. 1 his was
followed by a groan, by more than one
groan she thought, and she got atop of
the ironing board underneath the window,
and looked out above the half shutter,
but ehe could see nothing but mist When
asked to describe what sort of noise it was
that she had heard, ehe replied it was a
'sudden noise, a "scullling noise. And
that was the best explanation that could
be obtained from her. There were often
drunken folks about on a market night
she said, and ehe had supposed it might
be some going by in tbe lane, quarreling
with one another: she "diun t think, no
worse." Every thing was quiet after that,
eo far as she heard, except for people com
ing to the front door inquiring for her mas
ter. Five or six times they came; they
wanted htm to go and see the gentleman
who was murdered young Mr. Louth.
At ten o'clock, ehe went out to lock the
back gate, taking a lantern with her, for
the lock was small and awkward; and
then she came upon her master, lying in
the path, dead. And when people flocked
up, after she had given the alarm, and
came to look aMiim, they said he.must
have been dead ior some hours, buch
was her testimony, given in a plain,
straightforward way; ehe was a simple
countrywoman of middle age, Mr. Jan
son's only maid-servant By a somewhat
curious coincidence, the surgery boy had
bad holiday given him that afternoon, and
was away.
Squire Hipgrave propagated the unsat
isfactory dispute between Mr. Yorke and
Crane the gardener. The, extraordinary
fact that the murder should have been
known to either of them at that early
hour of the evening struck everybody; up
on Mr. Maskell, a keen man of the law,
it mode a strong impression. Who could
have known it. hours before he was found.
save those concerned in the deed? argued
Mr. Haskell. Very true, said the village,
but Crane and his wifoare above suspicion,
and eo of course is Mr. Yorke. This
must be sifted, concluded Mr. Maekell.
and I shall take care that all three are
summoned before the coroner.
Ere the day, Friday, was over, the mur-
derers of the farmer were in custody
two men, ot whose guilt there was not a
shadow of doubt The spoil taken from
Mr. Louth was found upon tbem,and there
were other proofs, which need not be en-
tered into, since that is not the murder
with which we are most concerned. These
two men had been seen lurking about the
village in the atternoon with another sue
picious character a man named King,
It was assumed that this third had also
been in the mischief, but at present lie
could not be tound. The murder of Air.
Louth and that of Mr. Janson must have
taken place about the same time, render
ing it next to an impossibility that the
same parties were guilty of both. The in
quest was fixed for Monday,, the coroner
being unable to hold it sooner, and poor
jut. danson lay in bis own house, the out
side of which presented a eccne of bustle,
night and day, luasmuch as it was reeu
larly besieged by crowds of the curious
who stood there tor hours on the stretch
gazing at its closely-curtained windows
Towards evening, on the Saturday, their
perseverance was gratifyingly rewarded
by the arrival ot Air. Janson's mother,
who had been summoned from a distance.
She took up her abode at the sorrowful
house, although several neighborly offers
to receive her were made, and the delight
ed crowd of stationary gazers was forth
with doubled.
Now the reader cannot fail to perceive
that suspicion lay fearfully etrong upon
Mr. Yorke. His jealousy of his wife and
Mr. Janson supplied the motive; jealousy
for which there was no foundation, save
in his own distorted mind. Certain at
tendant circumstances, known to Mrs.
Yorke, were fraught with suspicion. His
staying out that night, saying he lost his
way in the fog, bis stealing up-stairnin the
dark when he came home, and the com-
Elcte changing of bis clothes, would have
een comparatively nothing; but there was
his prematurely-claimed knowledge of the
murder. Mrs. Yorke heard of the opin
ion, expressed by the surgeons, that a gun
had orobablr been used to inflict the blows.
and ehe shivered as she listened. Did her
husband bring home his? She could not
tell. Neither could she arrive at any sat
isfactory conclusion as to the clothes he
wore, .whether they were put away in con
realment, or whether they were amongst
those hanging openly in thecloset:for Mr.
Yorke was an extravagant mavin the
matter of wearing apparelj'andpossessedf
several suits lor out-door sports, ihe ter
rible suspicion was eating into her brain.
And yet it appeared too monstrous a one
to have real foundation.
On tbe Sunday morning, though Mrs.
Yorke rose to breakfast, she excused her
self from going to church. She said she
was not sufficiently well; perhaps it was
no false plea, for she looked very ilL Mr.
Yorke went, accompanied by Miss Ham
disty and Henry Yorke. When they were
gone, Maria entered her bedroom and
locked herself in. A desperate determina
tion was on her face, the index to that
which had settled on her mind; her dread
ful fears, her uncertainties, were hard to
bear, day and night they were as one liv
ing' agony; and now that the house was
free from interruption she would search
and find, or not find, proofs. The gun.
That was the pointj had he thrown it.
away as he came home that night, stained
with his crime, or had he brought it home
with him and concealed it? Agun appear
ed as usual in the customary place; but
was it the gun he had taken out with
him. or the other one, which he might
have reached from his guncase and put
therer ihe guncase was fast, and ehe
had no meanB of ascertaining. '
There was an. old-fashioned piece of fur
niture, half bureau, half chest, in the
bedroom, black with age, very long and
narrow. Mr. Yorke had laughed when
this caught his eye on their taking posses
sion of the house. "Why, it's long enough
to put a coffin in," said he, in a joking
way. He had appropriated it to himself
for his private use, and this was the plague
pot oi ureau vo jura. xorKe; li lue gun
was in the house concealed, it was there.
She had been to the box of tools, and
by dint of exertion she contrived to bring
the bureau trom the wail. Iter intention
was to break iu the back, satisfy herself,
and then replace the furniture. Knock!
knock! hammer) hammer! Two servants
were at home, the rest at church; Char
lotte was in the nursery, the cook in the
kitchen. Whether they heard the noise,
or, hearing it, what they might think,
ehe did not stop to enquire; her resolu
tion was desperate, fane persevered, and
at length the wood was etove in. Not
epace enough yet, but she soon made it sol
Alas! she did not require a second glance.
On the very top of all, quite at the back,
lay the gun, broken, llow many pieces
ehe did not count, she could not have
touched them for the whole world; they
were wet, as if they had been soaked in
water for the purpose of washing, and they
lay on a euit of wet shooting clothes; had
be got into a pool, as be came home that
night, to wash away traces, i'robably.
Mrs. Yorke staggered away and sat down.
pale and sick at heart. Beyond all doubt,
her husband was Edward Janson s mur
derer.
Again she dragged up her shaking
limbs, and, leaving every thing as she
found it, save for tbe great hole, pushed
the bureau back to its plaee. The first
time her husband opened it, he would
see the hole, and detect what she' bad
done. She cared not: henceforth, there
was little tbat she would care for in life.
She tcok up the heavy hammer and the
chisel, and was concealing them under
her black silk apron, lest she ehould be
met going down-stairs on her way to the
tooi-oox, when a quick Knock came to
the chamber door right in front of her.
It startled her into a scream, which she
could not have prevented had her life de
pended on it
"flease, ma am, it e only me, said the
cook's voice. And what Mrs. Yorke an
swered was a mystery to herself, but the
servant rejoined
"It s a stranger, ma'am, asking to see
you directly, and won t take no denial. '
With a ghastly face and a frame that
shook from head to foot, Mrs. Yorke
opened one of her drawers, and shut dp
the hammer and chisel. Then she un
locked the door, and the cook stepped in.
side.
"It's a strange lady who wants to see
you;, she Why, ma'am, what's the
matter 7 Aren t you well f
''One of my sick headaches," mur
mured Mrs. Yorke. "A visitor, did you
eay ? I am not well enough to see any
one. Go and eay bo."
"A few minuted conversation only,"
interrupted a strange voice close at the
door ; and there stood the visitor, who
must have silently followed the servant
up-stairs. Her face, stern and pale, bore
the remains of severe beauty : and Mrs.
Yorke crew sick, as unto death, with un.
defiued fears, for she recognized Mr.
Janson's mother.
She utterly lost her self-possession.
She did not say. "Walk down to the
drawing-room," or, "Walk in here;" she
only looked up with her ghastly face, the
picture ot terror and misery, jure, jan
son stepped in and closed the bed-room
door, fixing her searching eyes full upen
Mrs. Yorke.
"I have come to ask you who mur
dered my son.
Mrs. Yorke felt as if her brain were
turning. There stood his mother, put
ting that startling question, and there, at
her back, were the hidden pieces of the
gun; there, in another spot, were the
hammer and chisel. Uimnous witnesses.
all.
"Did you. kill him 7' proceeded Mrs.
Janson.
Mrs. Yorke, in her perplexity and con
fusion, burst into tears. "1 kill him 1
hhe uttered "I set on and beat a man to
death ! It would be physically impossi
ble. Why do you come here with so
cruel a thought V
"Ever since I heard the details of the
crime yesterday.'' continued Mre. Janson
"inv thouehts have never quitted it, no,
not for an hour, for my eyes last night
were sleepless. I have eoujht in vairjf
for its motives. All tell me that my eon
had no enemy here, that he was beloved
and respected. To-day I heard that you
were living here, and I said to myself,
'There lies the clue.' You could not kill
him yourself, you say ; perhaps not : but
you might get it done. Did you ?"
Strange to say, Mrs. Yorke endured
such words without indignation. Indig
nation from her I when the wicked in
strument of his' death was within a few
inches! She answered in a tone of hu
mility, of pitiable depression :
"You may spare yourself euch thoughts.
I would have given my own life to save
his."
It may be that her words struck Mrs.
Janson as being the words of truth, for
her voice lost some of its harshness.
"Years ago you were my son's bane :
youled him on to love you, and then left
hitrf for' another? what wonder, then,
amidst so complete a dearth of motive for
other's committing the crime, that my
thoughts ehould turn to you?"
If I did marry another, it was not that
I disliked your eon," answered Mrs Yorke
in a low tone; "it was that circumstances
were not favorable to my marrying him.
Since we met again, on tbe occasion of
my coming here, we have been excellent
friends. Madam, I beg you to understand
-friends; the past was forgotten by
both of us; it was never once recalled or
alluded to by either ; your son has at
tended my child and brought him through
a dangerous illness. Pray, putaway these
dreadful ideas," added Mrs. Yorke, with
emotion. "Your eon was the last person
in the world whom I would have in
jured." '
"What maKea you jook so nrr de
manded Mrs. Janson, abruptly. "It ap
pears like mental illness, not bodily.''
"I have no objection to tell you that I
bave felt ill ever since the news of the
horrible crime was brought to our house,
as I should do had its victim been any
other friend. And to-day," ehe added.
with a faint color at her invention, "I
have a sick headache, which kept me
from church, and causes me to look as I
do now. Believe me, I knew no more of
the enme than you did, who were 'ar
away.
"Nor your husband r
"Mv husband !" echoed Mrs. Yorke.
with well-feigned astonishment. "What
motive could my husband have in wish
ing him ill? Quite the contrary ; had I
not chosen him, when I could have chosen
Mr Janson?" Ah, poor thing 1' was it
wrong tbat she should appear thus brave
in his defense, guilty though she believed
him in her breaking heart? lie was her
husband; he was the father of her chil
dren. Mrs. Janson's keen eyes were upon
her. Could she bear them, and stand the
ordeal ?
"Mrs. Janson," said ehe, rising, and
assuming a courageous, open tone, "you
must search elsewhere for the guilty par
ties not in our house."
Mrs. Janson probably thought so. She
likewise rose.
"Years ago. Maria Saxonburv I bee
your pardon, Mrs. Yorke I told you
that should your future existence be one
of retnbution, you had nchly earned it
Should it have been so, or should it ever
become so, you may remember my
words.''
Ay, she did remember them : remem
bered them with an awful shudder. Her
future existence I Mrs Janson walked to
tbe threshold of the'ehamber, and turned
her gaze full on Maria.
'Then, you can give me no informa
tion ? No help, no clue V
"Indeed, I cannot. You might as well
ask me alter tbe murderers of Mr. Loutb,
she added, with desperate energy.
Mre. Janson turned and began to de
scend tbe stairs. Maria made no effort
to show her out, or to have her shown
out: the courtesies of life were as nothing
to ber then. be sat down and strove to
keep herself from fainting. As ehe heard
her go through the front door, some one
appeared to enter it, and footsteps came
up the stairs. Was it Mrs. Janson re
turning ? A cold fear was turning Maria's
heart to chilliness, and something like a
dull, sound began to thump in her brain.
Not Mrs. Janson. It was Miss Hardisty
who entered.
"You I ' exclaimed Mrs. Yorke. elanc
ing sideways at the drawer which con-
tained tbe hammer, and wishing it was
safe in its place. " Church cannot be
over!"
"No. I came out before the sermon,
Maria, you look like death. Stay 1 let me
speak to you: I came home to do so. I
thought ot doing so yesterday, but my
courage failed me. What shadow is it
that has fallen on tbe house r
"Shadow ?" ehe gasped.
'Ay, shadow. I -have known you from
a child, and I loved and reverenced Mr.
Yorke's mother. I have liked him. For
your sake and hers I have resolved to
speak. As I went into church Mr,
Yorke was in advance, and I behind with
Henry some people stood in the church
yard, ineyaia not Know us; we were
strangers, and they continued talking
over the marvel of Mr. Yorke's knowing
that the murder was committed before
others could know it, for it eeems that
the neighborhood trusts Crane, who has
been in it all bis life, in preference to Mr.
Yorke. I spoke a few words to Henry,
and we went in. In the commandments.
w.hen the clergyman repeated, 'Thoushalt
do no murder,' and I remembered next
to whom I was standing Maria, don't
scream: suspicion, above all things, must
not be courted here, even Irom your ser
vants. Well. I felt as if I could not re
main there by his side, and when the
clergymen went out to change his sur
plice, I left, and came back to you. Let
me sav to vou what I have to say."
Mrs Yorke only bowed her head. She
could not epeak.
"Understand, Maria. I assume no
one's guilt or innocence ; I ask not what
led to tbat incautious revelation of your
husband's, the premature knowledge of
the murder, and the manner of its com
inittal : I would rather not know. But
that avowal must be remedied."
"Remedied!" wailed the unhappy lady,
in a tone of despair. "Oh, my children
"There is a remedy, Maria.
"How?"
"I and Henry Yorke must give false
testimony.'' continued Miss Hardisty, in
a slow, distinct whisper. "Your husband
also; but to him the speaking falsely will
probably be of no moment Hex.rv as
lie came through the vilage on his way
to us that night, saw the crowd gathered
..round Mr. Janson's house; and the mur
der we have heard since, teas then discov
ered. He must have heard the details;
must have mixed with the crowd noil
heard them; and he brought tbe news to
us. Uo you understand; '
"But he did not," said Mrs. Yorke, less
quick of comprehension than ehe would
have been at a more tranquil moment
"Xso; but he must eay he did; ami
swear to it, if necessary. I am also pre
pared to do so that is, that I beard him
tell the tale when he came in. I am not
insensible to the disgrace and danger let
us not allude to the guilt of taking a
false'oath'added Miss Uardisty.her voice
growing harsh and her brow contracting,
hi . . j : . i. . i .
uub may aave uisgruce, iue mom mgni-
ful that can be indicted on man. from
fallinz on Mr. Yorke. and conseouentlv
on you and your children. We must bave
been under a mistake you know: Mr.
Yorke must have confounded tbe words
pokea by Crane with the account after
wards orougin in oy nenry aorKe; and
thus the mistake must be explained
away. Do you not understand now, Ma
ria?" X
"Yes yes." she replied. "Oh! Olivia,"
she continued with a shudder, "this is a
horrible amictionl .
"Do not speak of it to me." hastily in
terrupted Miss Hardisdy. "I know that
you are innocent; and I would rather not
know more. 1 wish I could have saved
you from it, more effectually than I am
now trying to save you from its conse
quences. '
"Uut about Henry?' whispered Mrs.
Yorke.
" Henry will be found all rieht The
boy's doubts were excited before mine.
Did you'notice his countenance on Fri
day, when Crane and Squire Hipgrave
are uerei xie 13 more auve to tne areao
and the danger than I; and the plan is as
much his as mine, for he met me half
way in it There is no fear of Henrv:
deep feeling and sound sense lie under hia
random manner. Do you suggest this
course to your husband, and be assured
of us. Fortunately, JortunaXtly, Mr. Yorke
did not sneak while Finch was in the
room telling of Mr. Louth's murder, and
none of tbe servants know but what lien
ry Yorke did bring the news of Mr. Jan
son s."
In the most intense pain, both of mind
and bodv Mrs. Yorke liar! retire1 In bed
before the family cot home from church.
Not to her own bed; to a small curtain-
less bed in the room of Leopold, which
nad been placed there for a nurse s use
temporarily, during the bov's illness.
She cared not for the comments of the
servants, but went up there. And yet her
excuse to Finch proved that ehe didcuter.
for when rincb, in surprise, volubly de
manded wny ner .mistress had not lain
down in her own room, she answered that
she was more out of the way here of
t T IL . - i, , . .
uearing me noise oi me nouse. juana
said tbe. same to Mr. Yorke, when he
came up and questioned her.
Miss Hardisty had said, "Suggest this
course to your husband." How was she
to do itf If ever woman shrunk from a
topic, Maria snrunk from that The
very breathing of it to her husband seem
pd a3 if it would cost her her life.
All dav sbelavdwellimrurjonit How
should she speak? how let nim know tbat
ber suspicions were awakened? In the
dusk of the evening Mr. Yorke again
came up.
"Are you no better, Maria?
"I think I am worse," she answered.
ion would be more comfortable in
your own bed.'
"It is quieter here. Do not stay. It
must be your dinner-time."
lie bent to ktsa her cheek. With a
wail of pain, ehe turned her bead away,
and buried it in the pillow. Mr. Yorke
bent over her, whispering softly
""What strange idea have you been get
titig into your'head? It terong oneT'
bpeaking tbe words with marked em
phasis, he quitted tbe room. Maria, in
tbe course of the evening, called for Miss
iiardisty.
"You must speak to him yourself,
Olivia, ehe said. "You must arrange
all with him, 1 cannot
"it maybe better thatlehould, quiet
ly replied Miss Hardisty. "It is so es
sential that he should understand exactly
what 1 and Henry shall bave to say'
Concluded next week.-
REAL HORSE SENSE.
The Ornyson County Herald Sounds
tne npynoif i m anuisr ana jo
uoi to De Bioppeu.--
Graysoa County Herald, 4th.
The Democratic party of Kentucky has
for the past ten years pursued a course un.
wise, impolitic, and detrimental to the in.
terests of the National Democracy. Had
we at the close of the war been aa willing
to accept its consequences, and tbe prop
ositions irom our nortnern inenus, as we
now manifest, there would to-day be no
question among the people as to what
party would pun me reins oi government
for the next four years. But rebel fire-
eating speeches have been continually fall
ing from the lips of bur distinguished pol
iticians. Individual aggrandizement,
through the medium of exciting old prej
udices, has been a chief characteristic of
stump speeches, too plainly read by the
Democrats JNorth. conservative piatn
forms appealing to the sober senses of the
- , i .
people ior narraony, .uave ume ana again
been adopted in conventions; but scarcely
are they received and endorsed by the
great mass of our country people, than the
nominees- and elector? swarm among us,
and, by unguarded inuendoes, denounce
them from tbe rostrum. These are facts
painfully familiar to the people in every
county wheae are sprinkled both elements
of the late strife.
Now we eimply say that this thing haa
just got to be stopped. The bad influence
it has exerted upon the party. .North and
South, is too well known to require fur
ther ventilation.
The great question now is: "Who shall
be our next president Democrat or re-
publican?" It is to be solved by simple
addition. Other States have rolled up
round numbers, indicativo of the result,
and now look for Kentucky to follow suit
by the nomination of such men and the
adoption of such measures as will cement
in an inBanArahlft nniAn tlvA nntv rlianrrl.
an i eiememu oi ner ueuiucruujr.
V.
1 1 -Tk '
Says John Fan, "'Tis very hard to be
a good christian when one has a weak
digestion, and I sometimes fancy that a
change of stomach would benefit the
morbid einner almost as much as a change
ot heart"
Ear Tbe Fartford-IIerald:
HOW TO SUCCEED.,
Be conscious of yourown resonrcefij.and"
then ' wake into voice each- silent
string and sweep the sounding lyreZbf
your life into glorious success. .Half the
failures in tbe world arise from not know-A
ing for what we are-especially adapted.-'
btudy thyself, whncrank or nbat drartay.
thy cre'atorordained-forthee." Popenev-..
er wrote better advice than this. To be
perfect in any calling, in any capacity.- Ls j
to be fitted for that above all things eUei-4
Itis notthe profession or the trade that
dignifies the man, but the man can raise i
any occupation, however humble, to hia.
own high standard,, or lower it to hia crwnv;
base- level. -u
Mauy younz men rush into professions.
thinking to run a quick and easy race to'i
lortune ami to tame, loo many Biakibyv
the wayside, or leave no monument' tot
indicate whert they have. been. Qeniaa.-i
may and does accomplish .much without-
any considerable degree of labor. i
Altdiocnty. or even ordinary talent...
cannot hope -for success without paying.
the cost beii-eacnhce must be the watch-.
word.
Study when others recreate; work whe&u
others play; the midnight lamp and soli
tude while gay companions "trip thelight-i
fantastic toe," or spend the hours in revel-v
ry and mirth; this must be the manner, the.!
measure of your life. Thompson says:
"All ia the gift of Industry; whale'er ex-.r
alts, embellishes, and renders life delighU;;
lui." .pictures tbat bave enchanted tbe
world with their life-like reality and vivid.,
beauty, have not been dashed off at act-
hour a sitting, but bave been the patient.
work of months, often years, of solitary
and laborious application. Pride and eu-j
thusiasm arealsonecesearytoacomplett,
lull, and periect success. What yon in
tend, intend strongly. Believe and' -feel
that your occupation, and your individual
perfection in tbat occupation, is the one's
thing needful, the one thing indispensable!
and you cannot faiL We all bave our, fita
of enthusiasm, of work;-but spasmodic ef-i
fort is not sufficient. (Jontinued applica
tion, unremitting toil is indispensable,
What might not be accomplished in the-.
length of an ordinary. lifetime if every
available moment was well and usefully
applied. Think of the vast stores of knowl
edge accumulated, the incredible amount
of learning possible. History is full or
brilliant examples of boys who have raised -themselves
from poverty and obscurity to.
the highest pinnacle of fame. "How did-
they do it?" Not by loafing, or drinking
or going into debt for foppish clothes, or
driving fast horses; but by self-sacrifice,!
by study, by labor, by a fixed deterraina-v,
tion to conquer success. There are no royi
al roads to learning, no easy paths to for
tune, but the avenues to learning, fortune
and fame are equally open to all who have
the requisite courage; endurance and am
bition to travel the often long and' labori
ous way. "
A PERTINENT QUEST10M.
T7hnt hits Become of at I?nat $30,000
Editor Herald: In Tourlaat issue von
have published a list of claims allowed by
the County Court This is well, and gives'
information to the people that Is valuable.''
Now, Mr Editor, if you can, through some'
of our county officials, give the people'somo
information in regard to our court house1
debt, you will confer an additional favor
on tbe people. The court house cost about'
twenty-four thousand dollars, and. some
ien years ago a tax of fifteen cents on the".'
one hundred dollars worth of property,
and fifty cents on the poll was levied,
to raise a lund to pay lor it, ;
and this brings in about sir
thousand and six hundred dollars per an
num. At least that was the amount last'
year; and it has, I presume, averaged over
hve thousand per year for tbe last tea,
years, making an aggregate of fifty thous
and dollars, and the county still owes sev
enteen thousand dollars for the court
house! What has become of the money?
Thirty-three thousand dollars have gone
somewhere. Let the Magistrates, or some
body who c&n, explain this matter. M.
The Story of the Apple Tree.
Tbe following story is told by a Penn
sylvania paper: "Near Mount Pleasant
lives a rich farmer, and, as ia the case
everywhere, he has a -poor neighbor.,
The times being bard this winter, 'the
latter, whose family is large, had a tight,
time of it His neighbor, although rich,
is a kind-hearted man. He helped the
poor, neighbor and gave him permission
to cut down and take home for fire-wood
an old, hollow-butted, apple tree, which
had stood the storm of many along year.-
The man did cut down the tree, and dis
covered in tbe hollow thereof something
to make his heart glad. With him, hard
times, tough struggling, and battling with,
the cold were over, for in that hollow,
rotten trunk he found at least a hat full
of gold, enough in value to make him a
comparatively rich man."
The Hartford Herald, published at
Hartford, Ky., and edited by Wallace
Gruelle, late editor of The Missouri De
mocracy of this city, contains an immense
amount of well-written matter, digested
by that intelligent, genial and accomplish
ed gentleman, who has few equals as a
sound and logical writer. Mr. Gruelle is
known among us as a first-class writer,
whose productions are sought after by ev
ery lover of science and literature. We
wish friend Gruelle financial success ia
his new enterprise. As to the success of
the Herald, it is certain as long as this
intelligent gentleman controls its edi
torial columns. Cap Girardeau (iVS.
Marile' City News.
Hartford Hcralp. Thi3 is the title of
a new paper, started with the new year at
the capital of Ohio county K and we take
pleasure in saying that it is one of. the
neatest and liveliest country papers that
we have seen. Mr. Wallace Gruelle, tbe
editor, seea "no good reason why a read
able newspaper cannot be gotten, up as
well in a country village as in a eity,' and
he gives strong indications of doing it
Hawesville Tlaindealer.
In a restaurant, not long ago, a gentle
man while devouring a plate of hash came
across a pearl sleeve-button in it He
very justly complained to the big, brawny
waiter, the latter replying in an aston
ished manner, "Well, what d'yer expei't
to get a hull shirt