r r cti x _TL rLU r_k SAMUEL WILIGH-T, Editor and Proprietor-, VOLUME XXXI, NUMBER 12-1 .PUBLISEED EVERY SATURDAY ItIORNEVG Office in Carpet Hall, .Worth -west corner of tFront and Locust streets, Terms of Subscription. - "woe Copyperannom,ifpaidin advance, if not paid within three .niontherromeomraeneementofthe year. 200 501. 1::34:3 0 31203ir0r - and received for a Lime six snosiths; and no paper disconiiitued un i t ) all • ar mirage sure pn.id,utrlessat the optional the pub isher. • mr mo nekmaybC:entittrilbyrnat }sub ep 0,114' or's risk. • Rates of Advertising. square[dfines]one week, three weeks, - 75 eachntbsequentinsertion, 10 [l2 ines]onti week. 50 three weeks. 100 • Le eaelt.oh.equentinsertinn. 25 Lusgeradvertisement.in proportion A liberakliseoun willbe made to quarterly,hal 1- early . orfen riy L.lve rlisers,who are EATlCli)confined otheir business. "DR. HOFFER, DSTISt—OPFIOS,.Front Street 4th door from Locust'. over &leylor & McDonald'' Hook store •Columbia, Pa. IrrEntrance, same ta. Jolter.. ttograph Gallery. (August Yl, 1858. _ . THOMAS WELSH, „ "lISTICE OF TUE PEACE, Cotomtrio, OFFICE, in NVLipper's Neer Bedding, below Mack's Hotel, Front street. ID — Prompt attention given to all hu.ineoi remitted to his core. November 28, 11857. EL M. NORTH, ATTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR AT LAW Columbia .Pa. Colleetions4 romptlymadej n Lancasterand Yorl Jauntier , . Columbia, Ma: CIEZI S. W. PIM - IER, Attorney and Counsellor at Law, Cloauataslcolek, Pa. *a, r3eptember 6, t OEM S. Atlee Bockfus, D. D. S. 1 - )R tarn CRS the Cierutive, Sorg cal and Meehan ieul Departmenfit ofDentistry: OFFICE Locust street, between he FranklinHOU.E and Post Office, Columbia, Pu May 7. 185.9. Harrison's Coumbian Ink tATMCII is A Superior article, permnitentlr black. !Y and not corroding the pen, can be hod in an% unntity. at the Vantily•Mediebte Store, and blacker et is that English 13oot Columbia. Jnaell.lBMl We Have Just Received DR. CUTTER'S baproved Chest Expanding Suspender and Shoulder Braces for Gentlemen. and Patent Skirt , Surporier and Brace for Ladies. jnst the article. that as maned at thin time. Come and see them at Family Medicine Stare, Odd Pe:lows' Ball. !April U, Prof. Gardner's Soap. - TATE have the New Englund Soap fur thoge 1 14 110 diti TV not obtain it from the Soap anal; IL 14 plea:innt to the *kin. and mill take gren.e vote from Woolen Good;. it i.: therefore no bumf:mt. for you get the worth of your tummy nt the Flintily Medicine Store. Columbia, June 11, ISM aRAIIAM, or, Bond's Boston Crackers, for 11114 i Arrow Root Crurke n, for ll valid,. and titillation—new urtielcs in Cul alwLiu, at the Family Medicine Store. April 10. 1ti.19. NEW CROP SEEDLESS RAISINS. THE best for Pies, Pudding, to —n supply at H rill Grocery Store, Corner ',mutant' YDAAPS Union ets N0v.19.1859. SHAKER CORN. J UST received, a first one loi of choker Corn SUYDANI'S Grocery Storr, corner Front and ellioll St. Nov. 2tt, ~QPALINNIPS PREPARED CLUE.--The want of -uch au oriiele as fell ut every family. mad now it eau be supplied; for mending furniture, c h itin. wit re.ornamentul work, toys. &e., there in nothing superior. We Lave found it u,•eful in repairing ninny articles which hove been useless fur mouth.. You inn YBin it ut the Iti.0.111A! FZI/LY MEDIC/NR*TORE:. IRON AND STEIZIL! rimy. Subxerib. It. have reysiveil u New Lied Large J. Stock of all kivacmtd maeol of BAR IRON AND STEEL! They are con.tuntly supplied with -task in this braneb of urn business. ni,d cull finish it to customer. hi !urge or small quantities, at ihe loneci ,ate. ttlikl Locust st rect below .l Se l cond, C6w SO .umbia N. Pa. April 27. IrGO. ARTLiT'S COLORS. A general assortment of color; ht tuben. n variely of Artia Brushes. nt the lioldru Itlnnur Drug glow. [July RITTER'S Compound Syrup of Tar and Wild Cherry, forCoegilii,Celds,bre. For mac a he Golden Aloriur Drug:Awe. From st. (Jul}_ AT"'S Cainpound . , ronecntrated Extract Saroipurilln for the cure of Scrofula or li.un's Evil. nod all scrofulous affeelions, u fresh article iut received and for vale by It. WILLIAMS, front et., Columba, sent. Q 4. IRSO. FOR SALE. 200 GROSS Friction Matches, very low for cash. Jane 25. 'SD. U. WILIAAMS DRIED FRUIT. TOR Dried Fruit—Apples. Peaches, Cherries. he.; the herd in the marhet t go to :11 :51171 DAM'S GIOCeTy SlOfe, Corner Front and Union WM. Dutch Herring! A Ny one fond of a good Herring an b.. papplied at .1 7 EILIERI.EIN'S Grocery Store, No. 71 Locun st. Nov. 19. 1860 LYON'S- PORE OHIO CATAWBA BRANDY and PURE VU Ett..e,perially for bledimues nd Sacramental purpo.es, at the Jan.2B F ‘MILY MEDICINESTORE. VICE RAISINS for 8 et& per pound, are to 1 1 be bud only at . .SZERLPIN'S Grocery Store, No. 71 I.OCURI aireet. March 10, IE6O. 1 - 4,11/DEN SEIDS.—Fred Garden Seeds, war ;ILA ranted pare, of all Enda, jug received at ESERLEIN'S Grocery Store, 1111are6r10, 1930. No. 71 Lomat 'alert. POCKET BOOKS AND PURSES. r?-014AE lot of Fine and Common Prreket Books j.u. and Purses, at from 15 dents to two dollars each. ,Colmnbia,)6o. idnitarters and News Depot. W sum of thew beantilal ?riots Alett, which will be Pohl cheap. at_ SAYLOR it .IIdeDONAT.D'S Columbia,Pa. Received and For Sale. 1500 SACKS Ground Alum Salt,ja large or mei quatoltfes, at APPOLD'S Wareham. Canal liasio. Mayso34. lasi received a met lot' of Teneerinde, at the Golden Mortar Drug Store. a7B, Ur& COLD CERAM OF GLIVERIN I 2.—For the core and ppereation 43 chapped hand.. &c. • For Pale at the GOLDEN MORTAR Dnuc; STORK Dee .3,3829. Front street, Columbia. Prune FOR r Ann rate - anklet:a Prunes y s! ou most go to ' S. P.I.I3E:ELLEIN'tS Nov.lli ,1659. 0 • GOLD PENS, GOLD PENS. TtraT Ireenthed 11l large sod Saw owortment of Gold tf rens. of Newton and Griswold's wanafacloce. SAYLOR .1k iIIODONAL/IPS Book Store., Agrll 14. From street, strove Loc ott. grEitttigito. The Guest• Chamber of the Inn at St lires. =I rnom'Tnn JOURNAL OF A DETUCTIVE :I received an urgent letter from the sub agent of St. Ives, calling me to come and unravel the mystery of many murders com mitted there, toawhich no elate could behld. Proceeding on the journey I met the sub agent, Berret,. in the diligence which had to carry me to St. Ives. The excitement consequent upon this alarming state of affairs, had caused the sub-agent to decide upon a personal investi gation of the matter, and when I encoun tered hint, he had already started for St. Ives, so that our destination wits the same. EMI " You entrapped the rnscal, Jacques Gni chard, so admirably," M. Barret remarked, " that I am led to the hope f(wyorrr enemas in the present case, dark and doubtful ns the matter now look's." "At all events," wee my reply, "I deem it no more than justice to myself to make a strong effort. I must ask you, however, Monsieur Berret, to give me the entire con trol and management of this matter in every particular." " I will do so, and with pleasure. Frame whatever plans and U3e whatever means you please. I will be guided by you in all things pertaining to this business." " This will Le well. But one thinzraore Monsieur Barret. You must be as secret as the grave. Do not upon any consideration let it be known at St. Ives that there is a detective officer nearer to them than Paris; and above all, do not suffer yourself to make inquiry concerning these murders. Leave me to ask all the questions in my peculiar manner." The sub-agent promised full compliance with my instructions, and in a few moments we were rolling through the darkness and rain into the village of St. Ives. During these few moments, however, an incident occurred which necessarily has an important bearing upon tiny narrative. Our conversation bad been held as a mat ter of course, in so low a tone as not to be overheard by the other occupants of the dilligence; in fact I had hardly noticed any of their faces. But now, as I finished speak ing for the time with M. Berret, I looked around me, I discovered in the elderly gen tleman who sat directly behind us, Monsieur Lemare, a wealthy wine seller of Bordeaux, and with whom I was quite intimate. Upon recognizing me, he greeted me cordially, and we conversed together upon passing topics fur a moment. "You stop at the hotel St. Ives, I suppose?" he said, ell 'aging the subject somewhat ab ruptly. I consulted the sub-agent, and learned that this was the only place at Sr. Ives at which he ever stopped. I answered the question in the affirmative. "Well, I shall stay there also, but it is possible I May na see you again, as I in tend to leave St. Ives early to-morrow morn ing. lam now on my way to England, travelling as my business compels me to. in a round-about way. Contrary to my usual custom, I have neglected to obtain letters of exchange, and have now the sum of five thousand francs with me. Permit me to count this over before you, that in case any unseen misfortune should deprive me of it before reaching Calais you may certify to my creditors as to my possession of the money at this time." Producing a plethoric pocket-book, the wine merchant counted its contents. The sum was correct as he had stated, five thousand francs. M. Berret also, at his re quest, became a witness to his possession of ' the money. The diligence now came to a stop before the inn, and the passengers hastened to leave the one for the other. After we had taken our supper. I accompanied the sub-agent to his room where fur an hour, we talked on the subject of our mission to St. Ives, and the probabilities of success; and then as the hour was quite late, bade him good night, and retired to my chamber and soon after to sleep. Nothing unusual occurred daring the night, if I may make ono exception, which it may be well to mention in this place. I had been sleeping for more than two hours and was lying its a half unconscious state, I when I was awakened by a beau, though smothered groan. I was perfectly sure that I had not mistaken the sound, and mentally deciding that it had been occasioned in some manner, in the next room, I sat upright and listened intently. But I heard nothing more, although I placed my ear close to the wall. Whatever the strange sound might have been, it was not repeated. Upon enquiring far the sub-agent the next morning, I was told that ho had risen before me, andleft the inn. The idea then occurred to me that I might have an opportunity to pass half an hour with Monsieur Lamare; and addressing the landlord, a heavy-browed, ill-featured man, I asked for him. The man elevated his brow in surprise, and declared that the wine seller had not been in the house for a month. " Perhaps you do not know M. Auguste," I said. " But I do, Monsieur, perfectly," be re plied. "Yon must be mistaken about see ing him here." "Ile was certainly here—in this town, last night." "But not in this house, you are doubtless thinking of some other person." "NO ENTERTAMIENT IS SO CHEAP 'AS READING, NOR ANY PLEASURE SO LASTING." COLUMBIA, .RENNSYLV.-I,NIk. SATUR6D4Y MORNING, OOTOBER tO, IS6O As I walked away, I noticed that he fol lowed me suspiciously with his eyes. His manner seemed stranlte to me. It was, in fact, rather strained and overstrained: a , though be wished very much to impress -it upon my mind that M. Leuntre had nut been in the hotel. Upon further reflection. however, I was forced to confess that • had really not seen the wino merchant in the inn. True, he had informed me that he had changed his Mind, and so . I dismissed the subject from my thoughts. • Passing into the street, I strolled along in search of the sub-agent. I had contin ued my walk but for a few moments, when upon turning a corner, I was brought ab ruptly uron a terrible and singular scene. A number of persons were crowded in con fusion upon the sidewalk, and among thorn, as it happened, M. Berret. He quickly saw me, and seizing my arm contracted me forward to the object of common attention. It was, as I had already begun to suspect, another victim of the mysterious assassin of St. Ives; the body of a man lay extended on the pavement, face downward, the body penetrated by a deep, ghastly wound. But no words can describe my astonishment and horror, when upon the face of the corpse being exposed I recognized ray aged ac quaintance, M. Angurde Lemuel The sub agent too, started back in horrified surprise and for a moment we both gazed at the body in silence. My habitual caution, however, soon returned, and drawing M. Berret hasti ly asido, I whispered a few words in his ear. " Now, Monsieur Berret, if you will fol low my instruetions, I think I shall be able to solve this mystery in the course of the next twelve hours. Hove this body con veyed as quickly as possible to some place where it can be kept privately and then search and see whether those eve thousand francs can be found upon it. Ds this, and rejoin ale in half an hour at the inn, I will wait for you there." 1 returned immediately to the hotel, and before the expiration of the appointed time, M. Berret entered my ropm. "There is," ho said in a voice laboring under great excitement, "no vestige of the money upon the body of this unfortunate man. It has been plundered of everything valuable." " Ah, 'expected it. Now Monsieur Ber ret, let us sit down and talk calmly of this affair. I think I may be able to tell you that which will surprise you." "Is it possible that you have gained a clue tothe authors of these murder.! Your words and manners lend me to hope for it." " You are right. I flatter myself that I h.,ve not only obtained a clue, but am able even to lay my finger upon the guilty par ties. Would you like to hear of my dis coveries? "Yes—l am all impatience. Please go on." The sub-agent drew his chair close to mine, and listened eagerly, while I disclosed the significant facts which I had gained since my arrival at St. Ives. "In the first place, then, Monsieur Berret," I said, "the discovery of this morning, ren ders it certain that we have elected the right theatre for our operations. There can be no question that thee murders have been committed in this town, sine e we ha- e our selves seen one of the vietimq. The nub-agent, inidde,l fli rtn itirely; nn l I continued:— "First, then. it Feea)s ratioer rcuiarkuhle that these wounds should ull be inflicted in the back. As to the manlier of their inflic tion, I am not prepared to explain: but it seems conclusive to me that all these blows must have been produced by the same hand. In the next place does it not seem singular that every one of these no fortunate men has been a stranger?" "Now that I think of it, it does, as I live," the sub-agent thoughtfully replied. "But what do you argue front this fact?" "I will draw my inference in a moment. You will remember the circumstances of M. ',mare counting his money in the dilligence in our presence, this morning we have seen his dead body lying in the public street, rifled of the money. There is now one ques- tion in my mind. Did, or did not, M. Le mare lodge in this hotel last night?" "The landlord told one that he did not." "So he told me—but I perfer to investi gate for myself. We had it last night from Lemare's own lips, that it was his intention to stay at this inn until morning, and I am inclined to the,belief that hedid put up here last night, notwithstanding that nobody ap pears to have seen him within tho house.-- It is probable that he retired 'immediately to his room, and communicated with no one but the inn keeper or one of the servants.— Now, Monsieur ferret, let me recur to a cir cumstance which happened in the dilligence which I think escaped your notice. Just as M. Auguste was replacing.his pocket book, I happened to glance behind me, and then saw an object which instantly attracted my attention.-- It• was a man; bent forward .in esger attitude, his eyes intently fixed• upon the operations of M. Auguste. He quickly became aware, that I was watching him, and'ehrank back out of sight, but not before . I had observed his face. "I've seen it again this morning—it is that of Antoine the hostler." "This is truly an important discovery," the wab-agent observed. "But this is not all. Last night I heard a groan from the chamber adjoining mine. The discovery of this morning, considered with these others of which I have been tel ling you, leads me to believe that this was the death groan of M. Auguste Lentare. In any event, you can draw your own inferences. It is a fact conclusive that the unfortunate man ret , red to rest in this nest chamber.— Whether or not be over left it alive, is a question which in my 'mind admits of but little doubt." "Do you then really mean to say that your belief is that M. Lemare was mu.rderedun der this roof?" "I am positive of it, and not only he but each of the other victims. And lam also induced to believe that every one of these midnight assassinations has been committed in the adjoining chamber." "I have no doubt that you have arrived at the troth," the sub-agent replied. "And now, what do you propose to do first? Would it not be better to arrest this inn-keeper and his hostler at once!" "By no means, M. Berret. I think that that would be an extremely injudicious step. What I have been telling you are only con jectures of my own, which, though probably true in almost every particular, would, I greatly fear, avail little as proof to charge the villainous inn-keeper and his servant (who, beyond all question, aro the criminals) with these crimes. There is now one deci sive step to be taken; I propose to pass the night in this mysterious chamber." Monsieur Berret heard my quietly spoken words, and looked perfectly aghast with as tonishment. "What, Guillot! are you mad?" ho ex claimed. "Pass the night in that infernal slaughter home? Why, are you tired of life? Consider the danger of the thing, and the great loss to the service which your death would occasion." The earnest an3iety with which this last remonstrance was uttered was eo perfectly ludicrous that I refrained with difficulty from laughing outright. But I soon suc ceeded in silencing his objections, if not in satisfying his scruples. "You have, I believe," I then remarked, considerable nmount of money with you." 'Yes. Mon dieu! had this rascally land lord kuown it last night, I might now be as cold as poor Letuare! Can it answer you any purpose?" "A very important one. Lead me your pocket-book." Still holding it in my hand, I descended the stairs, the sub agent closely following, rne. The innkeeper was sitting behind his bar, seemingly half asleep and half awoke, but the instant he saw the pocket-book, his dull eyes lighted up with an eager gleam, and he watched my motions with strict at tention. "The amount is correct," I said aloud, to M. Berra. "Two thousand francs—this then, discharges the debt." Then walking up to the bar, I said to the innkeeper: The room which you have given me does not suit me in the least—have you not a larger one where I can lodge? "Yes, monsieur," the man replied,—with remarkable alacrity, "I should have spoken of it myself. There is a large and pleasant chamber neat to the one in which you slept last night—do me the favor to occupy it as long as you please." "You had better decline before it is too late," M. Berret whispered in my ear. "I fear you n ill not oceury it for more than one night. If you do you will accomplish ,% hat no per,on has:lone." "Show me the room," I calmly replied paying no attention to the anxious whispers of the sub-agent. There seemed nothing re.narkable about the room when we had first entered it. It was n trifle larger than the other chambers of the house, and the furniture was of a more antique pattern, especially the high posted tedstead. "I think this will answer," I said, after surveying the apartment and its belongings. "Will you lodge here to-night, then mon sieur?" "Certainly. The room suits me in every particular." If the dark-browed host had entertained any suspicions of my intentions, they wore certainly by this time entirely dissipated; and he left the room, I have no doubt, grat ified in the depths of his black heart that another victim was to fall so easily into his trap. "You are determined on this step, I per ceive," M. Berret remarked after he had gone. "IVell, I will not attempt to dissuade you, since I know you cannot be moved, but I promise you, should you be missing in the morning, I will burn the old rookery to the ground, and hang tho villainous inn keeper upon his sign-post, so surely as I shall myself live till then." "Take whatever steps you please when you find me missing, M. Berret—until then leave the natter in my hands. But there is one material service which you must not fail to render me. You will, if you please, conceal yourself, with two or three trusty men, in the room next to this, which I occu pied last night, and there await my signal: When you hear froin me, you . will instantly rush in and assist me to secure whoever you may find." These arrangements were, at the proper time, put fully into operation. As evening drew on, I saw that the sub-agent and his allies were properly secreted, and first en joining vigilance upon them, I entered the mysterious and fatal guest-chamber. The lamp which I carried asrved to reveal every part of it, and I quickly became aware that there was nothing unusual about the ap pearance of the room. It was very much such a bed-chamber as might be met with in almost every village inn. Nevertheless, I resolved to put no faith in appearance, and immediately I commenced a systematic ox animation, I searched everywhere—under the bed, in the closet and behind the win dow-curtains—but my search revealed noth ing. It was certain that no one was con cealed in the room, and there, as certain y, seemed no place of ingress, save the door.— I was beginning to become anxious. I' re flected that the danger might come upon me unexpectedly, and from - an unexpected source, I sat down, and for au hour I waited —waited in restless expectancy for the ap pearance of the.assassiu—but still I waited in vain. Looking at my watch I perceived that it was nearly midnight. My unaccus tomed vigil had wearied me, and placing my pistols beneath the pillow, I lay down upon the bed without removing my clothes. I was not long in discovering that this bed was of somewhat singular construction—the formation of the top being rather concave than otherwise, and so adjusted that the occupant could not possibly rest in it in any other way than upon his back in the mid die. Ujon his bock! That seemed rather a singular discovery to make just at that mo ment. Had not evrry,one of the murdered men been stabbed through the back? Yes —arid each ono , of them must have received his death wound while- lying _in this very bed, just as I Three sharp, distinct sounds, apparently close at hand, interrupted my reflections.— I knew their meaning in an instant—those 'sounds needed to interpreter. I rose quickly and silently, and grasping my pistol, await ed the nest movement of the unseen asses sin. Click—click. That noise again, and now like the creaking of a hinge. Nest there was a shuffling sound which made me aware that titers was a man beneath the bed —and the nest instant I saw the blade of a dagger driven up through the thin mattress, in the very place where I bad been lying I I gave a low groan, which was answered by a chuckle from beneath the bed. "An easy death! Now for the spoils," I heard the same voice say. And at the same instant the head and shoulders of the innkeeper were thrust out from the bed hanging. Covering him with the muzzle of ono of my pistols, I said:— "Come forth, sir, and deliver_yoursolf up! Your innocent guest is no other than a detective offieet! Don't attempt to escape —I shall certainly fire if you do:" But he did try, and I speedily sent a pis' tol hall after him. The report was succeed ed by a deep groan, and instantly M. Bcrret and hi* assistants rushed in. A hasty search was sufficient to discover the land lord under the bed weltering in his blood, and the hostler was seized before he had nn opportunity to close the secret panel in the wall, through which lie attempted to escape. This panel, as a short soarch disclosed to us. opened directly into a hollow Partition. By means of this strange contrivance, the nssassins had always been able to enter this particular chamber nt any time—and once I through the panel without having disturbed the unsuspecting sleeper, their work was easily dune. This bed was, as I have said, constructed in such a manner that a sleeper could maintain only one position in it—a! hole had been worked for the passage of the dagger, and a powerful thrust had been in every instance enough to transfix the t.eart of the victim. After riding the body of everything valuable, the murderers were ac customed to carry it out in the darkness of the night and leave it in one of the public streets of the town. And so adroitly had the game been played that no shadow of sus picion had attached to the real criminals. The innkeeper recovered front the wound which I gave him, but it was only, together with his partner in guilt—the hostler—to receive one of a much more serious charac ter t rota the hands of the executioner. From cleambers'Journal The False Funeral. I never liked my uncle's business, though ho took /110 when my father died, and brought me ,up as, his ,own son. Tho good man had no children. Ills wife was long dead; ho had an honest old woman for a housekeeper, and a flourishing business, in the undertaking line, to, leave to somebody; but he did not leave it to me, and I'll tell you the rsason. When I had been about five' years with him, and bad grown worth my salt, as he used to say, a death occurred in our neigh borhood, which caused greater lamentation than any we had heard of since my appren ticeship began. The deceased gentlemen was a Mr. Elsworthy. The family had been counted gentry in their day. I should have said my uncle lived in York, and all the world knows what Yorkshire families are. Well, tbe.Elsworthys were of good family, aad vary proud of it, though they had lost every acre of an old estate which had be longed to them time out of mind. lam not sure whether it was their grandfather's dice and, cock-fighting, or their father's going surety for a friend, who did something wrong in a government office, that brought them to this poor pass; but there was no house in all York where candles went farther, and tea•loaves were better used up. There was a mother, two sisters, and a cousin who lived with them. The mother $1,50 PER YEAR IN ADVANCE; $2,00 IF NOT IN ADVANCE was a stately old lady, never seen out of a black brocade. The sisters were not over young or handsome, but they dressed as fine as they could. The cousin was counted one of the prettiest women in Yorkshire, but she walked with a crutch, hating met with an accident in her childhood. Mas:er Charles was the only son, and the youngest of the family; he was a tall, handsome, dashing, young man, uncommonly polite, and a great favorite with the ladies. It was said there. were some red eyes in the town when. the story got wind that he was going to be married to the Honorable Miss West bay. Her father was younger brother to the Earl t,f llarrowgate, and had seven girls beside her, without a penny for ono of them; but Miss Westbay was a beauty, and the wonder was that she had not got married long ago, being nearly seven years out, dancing, singing, and playing tip top pieces at all the parties. Half-a-dozen matches had been talked of for her, bat somehow they broke down one after another. Iler father was- rather impatient to see her off; so were her sisters, poor things, and no won der, for grow up ns they might, not one of them would the old man suffer to come out till the eldest was disposed of, and at last ' there seemed something like n certainty of that business. Young Mr. Elsworthy and she struck up a d.urtship. He was fasein nted—isn't that the word?—at an assize ball, paid marked attentions at the bishop's party, and was believed to have popped the question at a picnic, after Lord Ifarrowgate, the largest shareholder in the North Eastern Bank, got him promoted from a clerkship to be manager. It's true he was some years younger than Miss Westbay, and people said there bad been something between him and his pretty cousin; but a Lord's niece with beauty, accomplishments, and service able connection, does not come in every young man's way; so the wedding-day was fixed for the Ist of January; and all the milliners were busy with the bride's bon nets and dresses. It was just a month to cotno, and everbody was talking of the match, when Mr. Ele worthy fell sick. At first they said it was a cold; then it turned to a brain fever; at last the doctor gave no hopes, and within the same week Mr. Elsworthy died. The whole neighborhood was cast into mourning. A promising young man, in a manner the only dependence of his family, newly pro tnoted to a station of trust and influence, and on the eve of marriage, everybody la mented his untimely death, and sympathized with his bereaved relations, and his intended bride. I think my uncle lamented most of all. None of his customers, to my know ledge, ever got so much of his sorrow.— When he was sent fur in the way of busi ness, it struck me that he stayed particu larly long. The good man could talk of nothing but the grief of the afflicted family —how the mother went into fits and the sisters tore their hair—lipw the cousin talked of wearing mourning all her days— and how it was feared that Miss Westbay, who insisted on seeing him, would never recover her senses. The county papers gave expressions to the public grief. There were a great many verses written about it. No body passed the house of mourning without a sigh, or a suitable remark. My uncle superintended the making of the coffin, as I had never seen him do to any other; and when l'-e work i n .,, tr.•te gone home, he spent hours at night finishing it by himself. The funeral was to set out for the family vault in the Minister church, at Beverly, about three o'clock in the afternoon. It was made n strictly private affair, though hun dreds of the townsmen would have testified their respect for the dead by accompanying it all the way. The members of the family in two mourningcoaches, and the under- taker's men, were alone allowed to fvllow poor Elaworthy to his last resting place, and the coffin was not to be brought till the latest hour. My uncle had got it finished to his mind, but evidently did not wish me to look at his work. He had a long talk with Steele and Stoneman, two of his most confi dential ussistants in the workshop after hours, and they went away looking remark ably close. All was in train, and the funer al to take place nest day, when, coming down his own stairs—they were rather steep and narrow, fur we lived in one of the old houses of York—my uncle slipped, fell, and broke his leg. I thought ho would have gone mad when the doctor told him be must not attempt to move, or mind any business fur weeks to come, and I tried to pacify him by offering to conduct the funeral with the help of Steele and Stoneman. Nothing would please the old man; I never saw him so far out of temper before. Ile swore at leis bad luck, threw the pillows at his housekeeper, ordered me to bring him up the key of the workshop, and kept it fast clutched in his hand. I sat up with him that night. In a couple of hours, Ile grew calm and sensible, but could not sleep, though the house was all quiet, and the housekeeper snoring in the corner. Then he began to groan, as if there was something worse than a broken leg on his mind, and "Tom," said he "haven't I been always kind to you:" "No doubt of it, uncle," said I. "Well, Tom, I want you to do me a great service—a particular service Tom, and I'll never forget it to you. You know Mr. Els worthy's funeral comes off to morrow at three. and they're very high people." "Never fear, uncle; I'll take care of it as well as if you were there yourself." "I knew you would, Tom—l knew you [WHOLE NUMBER 1,574. would. I could trust you with the hearsing of an earl's 4 4otlin; and for managing mutes, I don't know your equal. But there's some thing more to be done. Come over beside me, Tom; that old woman don't hear well at the best, and she's sleeping now and no mistake. Will you promise me"—and his voice sunk to a whisper—"that, whatever you hear or see, you'll make no remark tri any living, and be as cautious as you can about the body? There's foul play," said he, for r began to look frightened; "but maybe this leg's a judgment fur taking on such a business. Howsomever, I'm to have three hundred pounds for it; and you'll get the half, Tom, the full half, if you'll conduot it properly and give me your solemn prom ise. I kr:ow you'll never break that." "Cncle;" said I, "I'll promise, nod keep it too; but you must toll me what it is." "Well Tom"—and he drew a long breath —"its a living man you're going to put in that coffin in the workshop! I hare madeit high and fall of air -holes; he'll lie quite comfortable. Nobody knows about it but Steele and Stoneman, and yourself; they'll go with you. Mind you trust no ono else. Don't look so stupid, man: can't you under stand? Mr. Elsworthy didn't die at never had brain fever; bar he wants to' get off with marrying Miss Westbay, or some: thing of that sort. They're taking a queer way about it, I must say; but these genteel people hare ways of their own. It was the cousin that prepared my mind for it in the back-parlor; that woman's up to anything. I stood out against having a hand in it fill I heard that the sexton of • Beverly Church was a poor relation of theirs. The key of the coffin is to be given to him; it will bo locked, and not screwed down, you see; and when all's over at the vault—it will be daik night by that time, fur we don't move till three, and these December days aro short— he'll come and help Mr. Elsworthy ont:ltod` smuggle him off to Hull with his son the carrier. There's ships enough there to take him anywhere under a feigned name." "Could he get off the marriage no easier?" said I, fur the thought of taking a living man in a hearse, and hearing the service road over him, made my blood run cold. You see I was young then. "There's something more than the mnrriagd in it, though they didn't tell me. Odd things will happen in my business, and this is one of the queerest. But you'll manage it, Torn, and get my blessing, besides your half of the three hundred wands; and don't .be afraid of anything corning wrong with him. for I never saw any man look so like 'a corpse." I promised my uncle to (1..) the business and keep the secret. A hundred and fifty pounds was no joke to a young man begin ning the world in the undertaking-l40;1nd the old man was so pleased with what he called my senses and understanding, that befrre falling asleep, close upon daytireak e he talked of taking me into partnership, and the jobs we :night expect from the Mr. rowgato family; for the dowager countess was near fourscore, and two of the young ladies were threatened with decline. Nest day, early in the afternoon, Steele, Stone man and I were at work. The family seemed duly mournful; I suppose, on account orthe servants. Mr. Elsworthy looked wonderfully well in his shroud; and if , one had :not looked closely into the coffin,' they never would have seen the air-holes. Welk we set out. mourning-coachee, hearse, and all, through the yellow fog of a December day. There was nothing but sad faces to be seen nt all the windows as we passed: I heard them admiring Steele and Stoneman for the feeling hearts they showed; but when we got on the Beverly road, the . cousin gave ns a sign, and away we went at n rattling pace; a funeral never got over the ground at such a rate before. Yet it was getting dark when we reached the old Minster, and the curate grumbled at having to do duty so late, lie got through the service nearly ns qui& as we get over the miles. The coffin was low ered into the family vault; it was more than half-filled with Mr. Elsworthy'e fore-fathers but there was a good wide grate in the wall, and no want of air. It was all right. The clerk and the clergyman started off to their i homes; the mourning-coaches went to the Crown Inn, where the ladies were to wait till the sexton came to let them know he was i safe out—the cousin would not go home without that news—and I slipped him the key at the church door, as he discoursed to us all about the mysterious dispensations of Providence. My heart was light going home, so were Steele's and Stoneman's. None of us liked the job, but we were all to be paid for it; and I must say the old man came down handsomely with the needful, not to speak of Burton ale; and I was to be made his partner without delay. We got the money, - and had the jollification; but it was'nt right over, and I just getting into bed, when there was a ring at our door-bell, and the house keeper came to say that Dr. Parks wanted to see me or my uncle. What could he want, and how had he come back so soon? Parks was the Elsworthys' family ,doctor,andibe only stranger at the funeral; he went in the second mourning coach, and 'left .him talk ing to the sexton. My clothes were thrown on, and I was down stairs in a minute, !pok ing as sober as I could; but the 400thi's look would have sobered any man. "Thom as," said he, "this has turned out a bad bus iness; and I cannot account for it; but Mr. Elswortby has died in earnest. When the , sexton and I opened the coffin, we found
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