Bradford reporter. (Towanda, Pa.) 1844-1884, August 28, 1852, Image 1

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    Mal I=o
TOWANDA:
, n ftlorninn, annttst 28, 1852
' - i' Il if 6 La 1 1? L 6 Et -0
11:111OR OF " Letsurte 11017R3 AT SEA.'
" Foul deeds will nse,
.cn} actin thetri to men's eyes."
daessrEists
tr ate!er who rases, during the summer or
ra^: Ifs of the year through the States of
.09 laat lie west of the Oliio river,—lndiana
particular—will often pause in his
f ee :i n zi of irrepressible admiration,
,;:•,., the ten thousand beauties which
„orisfeati through those regions with an
v Lheral. hand. The majestic moan
'.e heavens on its cloudy top, does
t.fe tviest ins astonishing eye, and the
CI tram a dizzy height, and
r;'9 whirling depths below, then
showers, forms no part of
c cuter scenes. But the wide
-0. I?re'. at".. me waveless lake, from
~! ,prings up with a luxuri-
in any other part of our country,
__ e PaLnfal is besprinkled with
of flowers, ravishing the
I,.vehrress and tilling the air with
,3.4ttin, on either side of these
Iling arrayed " like host to
eall !crests, whose silence has not
,:seri by the voice of man, and through.
recesses the dear stalk in herds,
e .:rress c.l primeval natthe—these are
„ceries that call forth a passing tribute
a every beholder. Snell is their stn
. hut -when winter ” has taken angrily
cance," not even the painter's pencil
a conception of the bleakness and
change.. Then those extensive
, c oveical with the infinitely diversified
become one %%line unvaried
:he vistas of the naked trees nothing
but snow; and if from the chilly
t 1 ea:tii, the wearied eye looks up to
heavy clouds, driven along upon
seem surcharged to bursting, with the
e:emeti:. It was during the latter sea
ti,c,,:er.t of our story took place.
1::e of December, some ten or
;ear , ag,), t. e! rre Illinois was admitted a
,:.'o I:ilioti, on the afternoon of a day
een ui,cormnoilly mild, and during the
wi,.,:h there had occurred a light fall of
x. i , e7.,0:1, were seen riding along one
move prairi e s in a northern direction.—
:tenic,l advancing in years, and was
;I,e the d habiliments of the country.—
t,, itl of the of an otter, and a
et I.`lo_ linseyWoolsey covered his
y jrzceildor r t iota) knees, and trimmed
:t.. cr;age. It was fastened round the
a ~ ! irlu of a buckskin, to which was al-
Je.! a hullo-pouch made of the some ma
-11;6 feet were covered with buck
le:tgins of stout cloth were w tap
•rra. Ln.es ruund l,rs lu"•s fastened above
aLLI at the alleles with strings of green
Me horse ho bestrode was so small that
:staltrr:ststriggled on the ground, and
gait n hid' is denominated
roan's hair .tell in long and trn-
beueath hi; cap, and was white with
mai;y winters: while the eallowness
gave pruol of a long residence
.:d!liva!ed parts of the country, where
-,re v.ege!aUe decay, and the stagnation
J.es water ; produce perennial agues.
a- a yuci,g man, dressed accord
_ fushiutt of the cities of the
a::1 btc_thi blue eyes evinced 'that
e tho effects of climate.—
uusa spirited horse, and carried
butt resting on his toe—a heavy-
7 r5ir...,!011,.' said ihe elder per
- 1:0 n:oie ha' looked to see one of
about wi' you a rase Kentocu
• ! I'd be riding tnybeli
I did!' t bee it in your bands, I
wear t;lat 11 . r.: Jim Buck horn's."
Co: reedy, 11r. Silverbiglit,"
: , .::,6.cdaa—" I believe you know
Ae et tilts part DI the territory!' .
Lati.ll:tl a power of 'em in my
u:d man, 0 and there ain't
Sangamo and the Misbis
k .ow the valley on. I reckon,
,:e SeellilS to you but a clumsy bort
. ~:~:
but it's biumght down a smart
tt.,t and last. That lock's a rale
a: ":..r.2 ::i!,'t a truer bore—except mine,
t!•c Zetliernelit to get a new sight
a. A.NI LiliS arid 'Alajor Marharn's. It
• and mine a leetle over
-• .und. Jitn has used my bul
--t6e4 «e le been out hunting together."
''-' 7 .r7::::11.ed with the worth of the gun,"
!I vinun, "but stepping into the
~:s ~iii g, t heard hun kan•ent that
ed a chahee of bending it out to Jimmy
• • 1..m.d,:G to come this way, offered
of it myself. la this wilderness
ve must -`:and ready to do such little of
"'=!a;, Mr. Silverside."
'. 10 duubt ktatily meant, doctor, and Jim
";tune ',odd to get his piece again," said
but my wonderment is and I don't
by it, bow that tinker would trust
:c:edmet as that'ere with a Yankee doctor.
i ne-1 can't bide seeing a good rifle
''sand that don't know the Vally on it!'
Ilirington resigned the weapon with a
41.01 ed stink, for he had been some time
' l, .;lty, ;ilia partly understood the love which'
ai w'Y s feels lot a piece of the character
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of that he had been carrying—he knew, though he
old man's manners were rough, there was nothing
like roughness in his heart. Indeed the very Per
eonwho was loth to trust Jiis young companion
with tt gun intrinsically.worth but a trifle, would,
nevertheless, as we shall presently see, have an-
hesitatingly placed in his charge, without vvitu l ess
or receipt, an uncounted or unlimited amount of
money. The term Yankee, which we have h9ard
him applying in rather a contemptuous manner,
was then, and for years after, used indiscriminate
ly in reference to all such as emigrated from the
States east of the Allegheny mountains. Handing
the rifle across his horse to the old hunter, Charles
Rivington observed—
" I am glad you have offered to take it, Mr.
Silversight, for there appears a storm coming inp,
and as I wish to reach Mr. Wentworth's to-night, I
can make the distance shorter, by crossing through
the timber into the other prairie s before I get to
Buckhorn's."
" Will you be going into town to•morrow,Doctor?"
asked Silversight.
" will"
" Well, then, you can do me a good tum—hefe,"
Said the old man, handing a little leather bag, " is
fifteen dollars in specie; and the rest lour hundred
and eighty-five in Shawneetown paper, is wrapped
in , this bit of a rag. I want you to pay it into the
land office, to clear out old Richly's land ; I was
going to take it in; but you'll do jist as well, and
save me a long ride."
The physician promised to attend to the business,
and they kept on together, conversing about such
subjects as the nature of the scene suggested, until
they reached the place where the path, dividing,
pursued oppcsite directions.
"This is my nearest way, ". kielie'Ne?" saAl
Charles.
tit is," answered the man—" this fifth
track, that we noticed a while ago, lies on my
route—so I'll push my nag a little, WOWS I load
this rifle, and it may so be, that I'll over take com
pany. Doctor, look here, and you'll know how an
old hunter loads his piece—it may stand you in
hand some day—l put on a double patch, because
my bullets are a leetle smaller than Jim's, you
mind I told you. There," said he, as ho shoved
the ball to its place, and carefully, poured sonte
primitig into the pan, "it's done in quick time by
them what have slept, year in and out, with red
ndians on every side Of. 'em. Good night to ye,
doctor—you needn't lift the sartificates—the regis
ter may as well keep 'ern till old Richly goes in
himself."
So saying, the taro travelers partied, each hrgiog
his horse to greater speed, and night threatened
shortly to set in dark and stormy. The old hewer,
acknowledging to himself in mental soliloquy, that
the doctor was a "right nice and cute young
fellow, considering he was raised among Yankees,"
rode briskly along the path, He had proceeded
about tour or live miles further on his way, when
he perceived that the track he before observed
turned aside, towards a little point of timber that
put out into the prairie. "So so," said he " Sldy
mush has been out among the deer to-day ; I was
in hopes 'twas some one going up to the head wa
ters," and he kept racking along the road, when di
rectly, the report of a musketivas heard reverberat
ing through the night, and the old man,- writhing
and mortally wounded, fell from his horse, which
scared by the occurrence, ran wildly over the prai
rie. A torn' was seen, a few minutes after, cau
tiously approaching the place, fearful that his vic
tim shputd not yet be dead ; but apparently satisfied
in this particular, by his motionless silence, he ad
vanced, and proceeded immediately to examine the
pockets of the deceased.
" Damnation !" muttered lie at length, when a
fruitless search was finished, " the old curmudgeon
has nt got the money atter all ; and I've put a bul
let through his head for nothing. I'M sure j Ward
him say, in Brown's tavern, _town in the sehlement,
that old Richly give it to him to carry ; well, '
his own :atilt, for telling a bragging lie about it, and
the gray-headed scoundrel won't never jeer me
agin, for using a smooth bore, below a whole cprn
pat.y of Kentucky squatters. It carried trueendegh
to do his business. I'm sorry I dropped that tfask,
any bow, but this powder horn will make some
amends," grumbled the wretch, as he tore ar
tidie lie spoke of from the breast where it had hung
for lorry years. " What the devil have we hen?.?'
said lie again, as he struck his foot against 'the rifle
that the murdered man had dropped ; " ho, ho,"
discharging it into the air, " it the worst comes to
the worst, they'll think his piece went oft by acci
dent .and shot him. But there's no danger—it will
snow before-daylight, and cover the trail, and the
prairie wolves witl finish the job."
Thus muttering, the ruffian remounted the animal
• be held by the bridle, and trotted across the prairie,
nearly'at right angles with the path along which the
unfortunate Limier had been traveling. -
It was in a log house, larger, and of rather,more
comfortable construction, than was usually seen in
• that wilierness country, basides a fire that sent a
broad and crackling flame halt way up the capa
cious chimney, that there was seated, on the even
ing of this atrocious murder, in addition lo its orJi
naiy inmates, the young physician from whom we
lately parted. Ilia greateciat,hat and overalls ;were
laid aside; and he was conversing with that agreea
ble buoyancy and pleased expression of countenance
which denoted that ho was happy in the society
arsand him. Opposite,, and busily employed in
knitting, sat a beautiful girl of eighteen. From her
• work, whit', seemed to engross an unusual portion
of her attention, she every now and then would
send a furtive glows to the guest, thus telling, in
the silent language Uf tr...e, the tale she never Could
have found words to utter. We say she was beau
tiful ; and of a complexion so ch., r t h at
The eloquent blood spoke through her cheelcr-od so diatually
wrought,
That one might aileron say of her, her very body tr.... m il t. _
—lf laughing blue eyes, lighted up by Melligt...„
and glossy auburn, ringletts; teeth white ss the
snow around her father's dwelling, sod a roots
PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. O'MEARA GOODRICH.
RERARDLESS OP 1/EiJUNdIATION FROK ANY QUARTER."
which, though not tall, was well fohned and grace
ful; if all these trattscombined constitute a claim to
the epithet, it certainly belonged to her. She was
modestly attired in a dress of no costly material ;
and the little feet that peeped from underneath it
were clothed in white stockings of her own fabrica
tion, and in shoes of too coarse a texture ever to
.have been purchased from the shelves of a fash
ionable city mechanic. Yet that same form had
been arrayed in richer apparel, and had been lot
lowed by glances of warmer admiration than ever
perhaps fell the share of those who are ready to
condemn her on account of her garb.
Catharine Wentworth was the daughter (at the
time of our story the only one,) of a gentleman
who had formerly been a wealthy merchant in the
city of New York, but whom misfortunes in busi
ness had suddenly befallen, and stripped of all his
fortune. While surrounded by affluence he had
been regarded as remarkably meek and affable;
but became proud and unsociable in adversity; and
not caring to remain among scenes that continually
brought to mind the sad change in his condition, he
emigrated, with his whole family, to the wilds of
Illinois. He was actuated in part, no doubt, by a
higher and better motive. At that time he was the
father of another daughter: Louisa, older than Ca
tharine, was fast falling a victim to that disease
which comes over the human form like autumn
over the earth, imparting to it additional graces, but
too truly whispering that the winter of death is nigh.
The medical attendant of the family, perhaps to fa
vor the design which he kne.v Mr. Wentworth en
tertained, intimated that a change of climate was
their only hope. It it were right in us to detain the
reader, and we possessed the power of exhibiting
in thermelancholy sweetne.ss of reality, the progress
aV.nat interesting female to the grave, till at length
she lay down in her attenuated loveliness to awaken
in heaven—all who have hearts would moisten the
relation with a tear. But we will not—we can
nel:—
Beneath the prairie turf she lies,
And sweetest wilatloNsr.iii dress the sod ;
Her stainless soul bulb sought the skies,
To dwell forever with its God.
How strangely does the human mind accommo
date itself to any situation ; the man who had spent
his life hitherto in a sumptuous mansion, surround
ed by all- those elegancies and means of enjoyment,
which, in a large city, are always to be procured by
fortune, now experenced, in a log cabin, divided
into but four apartments, and those of the roughest
kind, a degree of happiness that he had never
known before. And well he might be happy, for
he was rich—not in money—but in a better, a more
enduring kind of wealth. His wife, two hardy arid
active sons,'and the remaining daughter, Catharine,
-were all around him, smiling in contentment and
ruddy in health. We can only estimate our condi
tion in this life by comparison with others, and his
plantation was as large and as well cultivated, his
crops abundant, his stock as good as any of the set
tlers on that prairie. lie had still a better source of
consolation : Louisa's death, the quiet of the coun
try, and the natural wish of every active mind to
create to itsell modes of employment, had led him
more frequently to read and search the Scriptures
than he had found leisure to do before; and this
was attended, as it always is, with the happiest re
sult, a knowlegg,e'ol love ot him " whom to know
is life eternal." But we are digressing.
The family of Mr. Wentworth, with the addition
of Charles flivington, (whom, indeed, we might al
most speak of as one of,its members, for, on the
coming New Year's day he was to receive the hand
of " their saucy Kate," as the happy parents fondly
termed her,) were gathered round the tire-side, con
versing freely on earn), topic that presented itself;
when a light tap was heard at the door, and Mr.
Burnley the deputy sheriff of the county, entered
the apartment. He apologized for his intrusion, by
saying that having business to attend to at a cabin
farther up the prairie, which detained him longer
than lie expected, lie should not be able, on accoun t
of the darkness of the night, to return to town until
the following morning ; he therefore hoped he
might be accommodated wi.h a bed. His request
was of course readily complied with.
He Was a tall dark person, dressed much in the
manner of the unfortunate hunter, except that his
leggins were of buckskin. He had lost art eye,
when a young man, in a scuffle wit an Indian,
two of whom sprung upon him from an ambush;
I this with a deep scar on his forehead, received in a
tavern brawl at New Orleans two or three years be;
fore, and the - wrinkles that age, nr more likely hie
manner of life had ploughed, gave to his counte
nance a sinister and. disagreeable expression. At
this time the haggard appearance of his face was
increased, either from having ben a long while
exposed to the cold, or fromsome latent sickness
working on him, for his lip quivered and was of a
bloodless hue, and he was remarkably pale.—
Charles Rivington, who often met him in his rides,
was the first to notice the cliange from his usual ap
peaiance.
'• You look pale and fatigued, Mr. Burnley; I
bore you are trot unwell. -
"No, sir—that i , ,—yes I do feel a little sickish,
and should be glad to go to bed, if it is convenient,"
answered Mr. Burnley.
" Perhaps there is something that wo can do for
you sir !" said the maternal Mrs. Wentworth.
"No, ma'am, I thank ye. I reckon a good
night's sleep will be best for we ; its what cures all
my ailings." And in compliance with his wish, the
guest was shown to his apartment.
One bY one the different members of -this peace
ful family sought their pillows, till soon Charles
Rivington and the blushing Catharine were len sole
occupants of die room. But though alone, they
were not lonely ; he had many an interesting tale
to whisper into the maiden'S ear, (for )1 was almost
a week since they had met!) andshe, theugh 60010.,
thing of a chatterbox, when none but her mother
~and brothers werepresent, - on - this occasion betray
ed a wonderful stoner's for listening. ' The hours
glided rapidly away ; and the gray morning was
I , lready advancing, when the happy vOliflg, man,
ml - zqinig a good-night kiss upon her cheek, left
• -
her to those sweet dreams which slumber berlowa
only on the young and hint:tent •
It was lam in the afternoon of the follOwirig day,
that Charles Rivington, being returned to the town
where he -resided, was seated in his office, empley
ed in counting a roll of notes, a Meet dollars lying
at the same time on the table before him, when '
three men abruptly entered the apartment.
" You are our prisoner !" cried the foremost of
the party. 44 By heaven ! Jim, look there; there's
the very money itself I can Swear to that pouch."
And here he seized our hero by the collar.
" Stand badk sir, and lay hold of me at your per
il," returned Charles Rivington, sternly; as , sba;
king the man from him, he gave him a blow that
sent him to the other side of the office. 44 What
is it you have to say I and it lam to be made a
prisoner, produce your warrant."
" You may as well submit quietly, Doctor Riv
ington," said another of the party, who WAS a con
stable. " You perhaps can explain everything ;
but you must come before Sqoire Lawton. This is
my authority, (showing a paper,) and it is only
necessary to say that suspicion rests upon. you, as
the murderer of old Silversight, who was found shot
through the head on the road this morning."
" Is it possible ! poor old man, has he really
been killed 'I When I parted with him last night,
he was not only well but seemed in excellent spit'
its," said the doctor.
" He parted" from him last night ; mark that
Buckhorn ;" said the one who had just received a
severe repulse from our hero, and whose name was '
Carlock. "He left him in excellent spirits ! mark
what the villain says."
" There need be no jeering about it," replied
Buckhorn. " Doctor Ilivington, you tended me
in my bad lever last spring, and• agin when I had
the ch.lls in the fall and you stuck by me truer
than any friend I've had since my old mother died,
except this ere rifle, and I'm monstrous sorry.l
found h where I did. It may be so, that you've
got a clear conscience yet ; but though whether or
no, though old Silversight and me has bunted to
gether many and many's the day, you shall have
fair play any how, dam me if you shan't. That
'ere money looks bad ; if it had been a fair fight,
we mought a-hushed it up, somehow or 'nether.'
Our hero, while Buckhom was 'speaking, had
time to reflect that if Silversight was indeed dead,
onceinstances would really authorize this arrest.—
The rifle which he was known to have carried
with him from town, had been found it seems be
side the murdered body. The money that the un
fortunate man had entrusted to him was discover
ad in his possession ; and how could it be proved
for what purpose it had' been given to him As
these thoughts run rapidly through his mind he
turned to the officer and observed.
" Mr. Pike, I yield myself your prisoner. I per
ceive there are some circumstances that cause sus
picion to rest on me, I must rely for a while upon
the character which, I trust, I have acquired since
my residence among you, for honor and lair deal
ing, until I shall either prove my innocence or
heaven places in the hands of Justice the real per
petrator of the deed."
So saying, he gathered up the moncy from the
table, and departed with the o ffi cer and his corn:
paniona to the house of Mr. Lawton, who, being a
Justice of the Peace, bad issued a warrant for his
apprehensioa."
" I have always been glad to see you heretofore,
Dr. Rivington," said the magistrate, politely, on
the appearance of that person before him, " and
should be so now, were it not that you are charged
with a crime, which, if proved, will call down the
severest vengeance of the law. I hope and believe,
however that you can establish your innoceede.—
Where were you, sir, on the afternoon of yeller
'ay 1"
" I went out to visit some patients, meaning to
continue my ride as far. asMr. Buckhom's, and took
his rifle with me from the gunsmith's with the in•
tention of stopping and leaving:it ; but I met with
old Jlr. Sil . versight at the cross roads, who was
going up from the new settlements, and he offered
to take charge of it. I gave it to him. We parted
at the fork, and I crossed over to Mr. Wentworth's."
" Did Mr. Stlversight continue on his journey,
having Jim Buokhotas rifle with him I' asked the
Justice.
" Yes sir ; but before we separated he gave me
this money," handing the notes and specie to.the
magistrate, " requesting me to pay It into the land
office to day to clear out Mr. Richly's land. He
said there were $.500 in all, and was counting it
when arrested."
" There is a most Unfortunate coincidence•of
cumstances against you ) Doctor. The man lit
found murdered, the rifle which you were known
to have carried lying near him, and you .arrive In
town the nett day, with the money of the deceased
in your possession. The poor old man's horse go
ing home wi:hout his rider excites alarm ; Bock
horn and Carlock, with other neighbors, set out up
on the track ; they find the murdered victim, stark
and bloody, lying on the snow, which was scarce
ly whiter than his aged head ; they divide—some
bearing the body back, while. the others follow on
the trail ; it leads them to Mr. Wentworth's, where
you acknowledged you passn the, night; they
there inquire what person had made the tracks
which they had followed and were answered it was
you ; they continua oil their trail until they arrive
in town ; they make affidavit of these facts; and
procure a warrant for your. arrest, when, to cont
plete the chain of evidence, you ara found counting
the spoils of the murdered man. Now, sir, what
answer eau rim make to these appalling eirrum.•
stances ?''
' 4 They are appalling indeed, sir," said our he.
to, " and I can only reply to,them—l am innocent.
II the poor man was murdered, the one who did it
must certainly have- left tracks; and t fear they
have fallen upon his trail and taken it for mine.—
Bnt it is in my power to prove that I had no weap
ons with me, except that unlucky title, and. the
gunsmith will testily that he give mem balls with
it,,
" The gunsmith has already been before Ape,"
said Squire Lawton - , 46 for l was loath Icrluje you
apprehended, except on an application backed by
such'proot as coahl,notte rejected. He states that
when he gave you the gun, the locks hail been re-
Paired and polished, and that since that time it has
certainly been discharged. lam sorry to do it sir,
but my duty compels me to eorninit you "
It is needless to dwell longer on this examine,
Lion. Our hero was committed for irial.;.and so
stroug were the proofs adduced against• him, that
the worthy magistrate and indeed the whole neigh
borhood, could scarce hesitate to believe him guil
ty. When the sun arose that morning, Charles
Ilivitignin was one of the happiest of men. Lov
ing and beloved, his businesi increasing, His name
respected, and the time rapidly approaching which
was to bind him to Catharine 11/ the tender relatioo
ship of marriage, be lookernack ttpou the glorious
orb as it burst up through the eastern heaven with
an eye of almost kindred brightness. How chang.
ed the scene at its setting! Its last rays fell upon
him through the iron•guarted window of a prison
Yet, could we examine into the soul of that young
man as he lay in one of th'e small anti noisome
apartments, on a bed of straw that had bees spread
fora former inmate, *a should Curd, perhaps, though
surrounded by the greatest danger—..the danger of
dying an ignominous death, and of having a blot
left forever on his memory—he was still serene and
happy. And whs was this I He had a compact.
ion in that dreary place, whose acquaintance had
been sought in the hours of prosperity, and who
now, in the darkness of trouble, wouldoot depart—
s companion that can cheer us amid the revilings
of the world, can pierce through the bars of sedum.
peon, and whisper to the desponding spirit, " Bless
ed are they that mourn, for they shall be comfort-
ma
Charles Rivington was one of the too small num
ber of young meu who are nut ashamed to be reli
gious; " and verily he had his reward." The mere
worldling similarly situated, would have been loud
in imprecations or dumb in agony ; but he, npborne
by conscious innocence, and knowing that not a
sparrow lalls to the ground without the will of our
Heavenly Fat:ter, humbled himself m prayer before
that being who is mighty to save unto the utter
most," and he arose from the exercises with those
tranquilized and invigorated feelings vs hibh ate its
invariable result.
Nearly two years had elapsed since our hero em
igrated to that western region. He was the young
est, and, at the time of our narrative, the only son
of a widowed mother, who lied been doomed to fol
low successively to the grave, a husband, a lovely
daughter, her eldest born, and two fine and healthy
boy's. Sick of the •scene Vicar death had made
such havoc, and crushed so many fragrant buds of
promise, she consented to accompany her sole re
rnaining child to a place where the newness of the
country seemed to hold forth greater prospect of
success, than was afforded to a young practitioner
among the overstocked population of a city. Hith
erto their expectations had been amply realized.—
He who tempers the wind to the shorn lamb, pro
vided for the wounded heart of the Christian wid
ow, a balm of sweetest efficacy. Her son was
such a child as mothers pray for; he strove by re
doubled filial attentiona to supply the place of the
lost ones to his parent: and her eye seldom rested
on his manly lorm, that they did not beborne Wa
tery, from the overfullness of gratified maternal
love. Their family misfortunes had rendered his
mind uncommonly ductile ; and it was she who
planted there those seeds of righteousness, which,
as we have seen, sprang up and brought forth good
fruit.
On the afternoon of the son's commitment, she
was sitting in the parlor of the pleasant little house
which they occupied, when Judy, the Irish girl,
who had lived long in the family, remaining with
them through all their trouble, came running almost
breathless, into the apartment.
" Oa, Mistress, and ti.e Lord bless you," she
cried, as soon as she was able to speak, "and pre
sarve your old heart from breaking—but l's got bad
news for ye."
"How often Judy, must I repeat to ITU" said
the pious old lady, interrupting her, " that it is ex
tremely wrong to use tho name of your Maker so
familiarly on all occasions? "The Lord will not
hold him guiltless who taketh his name in vain
" Botheration, ma'am, but I's no time to tend to
that now—
Judy !" interrupted Mrs. Itiviogton again, a how
can you• speak so—
" Ma'am, will yOll please to hear me," roared
out the serva..t, at length fully restored to her voice
are you agoing to set here and let them murder
Mr:Charles t"
" Charles! gsacious providence," ejaculated the
mother, catching the alarm of the menial, " what
is the matter—surely nothing evil has happened to
•
Oh nothing at all, at all, olisfriss;" responded
Judy, striving to speak calmly, that she might not
too suddenly shock- the trembling• parent; 'then,
unable to control her leelings, she sobbed but,
" my poor dear young master's in prison."
" In prison !" esciaime4.the estmislied mother,
touting quickly to -4he weping girl and grasp
ing her arm, "Judy," said she, with the earnest
ness of agonized apprehension, " tell me the whole
truth—yeu have seen me bear calamity before..-
what does this mean?"
" Ah, madam. fist be cpiiet," returned the anx
ious servant; a it's only one them drunken hunters
what's kilt himself, and the blackguards want's to
lay it to poor Mr. Charles, because fig's a Yankee,
as they call it, and,-that's jilt the whole of it." •
" My boy accused of murder ! my honorable, my.
pious boy. Father of mercies!" said the pale and
agitated mother, sinking on her knees, "it this
withered heart is doomed to receive another wound,
if my lastearthly prop is to be torn from me, ott, do
thou give me strength to bear this greatest of afflic
tions, anti enable cue to say, thy will, not wine be
done." She arose with re - Limed commute, and
turiling,to her maid, "get my harandshawpoiy,"
said shat " I tun tiail It to rid Worse i , this is but •.,_
passion cloud ; for tie innoCitit 'and hie inner
cence will soon be. siisolf4t. i .:l feared test ha
miglittitraick, pr thrown from his bursa, but tit!
Lord be praised; tetio bath riot tried his iseriint be
yond !lei strength."
Such wasihe language of the exemplary Mrs,
Rivington ; as she. walked-out that evening,. with
the liitentiOn of visiting her eon in piisan. We will
not accompany her; theirmeotme .wassuchas will
be anticipated from their enlightened and pious
characters; and though the good woman was alarm/
ed by the strength „0 the circumstances adduced
against her beloved boy, yet not for a moment was
her faith in the justice of the Alpighty so shaken,
as to permit a feai that the guiltless would softer,
But . leaving them mutually suiting to stieng,ileis and
encourage each other, ice will ask of our reader to
accompany us ibto t h e kitchen of Dr. Riviagton!e
house, whither Judy immeJiately returned on limit
departure of her mistress.
"She's a noble-hearted woman, that's what she
is," said the girl, whose admiration was excited
by the Christian firmness she had seen exhibited ;
1+ she's jilt the right tort of a thither for each erca:t
young gentllman as he ts ; anJ you Jemmy," (turn.
Lag to Buckhorn, who sat with a sorrowing coun
tenance in a comer r j yere a pretty blackguard,
ar'nt ye, to be going to give information tallest a
man what you know niter did harm in .bis bout
days. Ah! git along frith ;;a-I'm fairly sick of
ye. tr
"glut, Italy, when we found the •rifle laying by
the dead both," answered the distressed young
man, ";1 very naturally said to Cartock, that that
was the best WA we could have; for 1 know'd old
Silvereight had been down in the new settlement,
and so, says 1, the man who got this 'ere ride lions
Dril'a, mast be the murderer; but if I'd a-knoved
It was the Doctor took it out, miss•fire but I'd a•held
my peace, if I never could shoot buck again tiff IL
told it. I hardly b'lieve he killed the old tellow,
now."
Now 'pon my bonorye're a great fool," respon
ded the indignant Jttdr; " yon hardly b'lieve it, do
you? I tell you what, Jimmy Bockhorn, the man
as conies a sparking to me, if I set ever so mucks
by him, should never get my consent; if he was the
means of puttiug the dear young gentleman into
limbo, till he contrived ways and means 16 get him
clear again. You don't bl'iev6 Arrab
now, Jimmy, I've told you afore l's a eon of Liking
fur you—but I'd sooner b'lieve you had mutinied
the poor old vagabond, in cold blood, than that Mr.
Charles did it, if he was ever sq provoked."
Budthowrose from his seat when the fluent
and handsome lash girl bad finished her speech,
and taking her hand, "Judy," said he, 1' any nag is
tired down—bot 111-git Bob Millar'a--I'll go down
and see the Doctor at the jail. winder, end find
Which way he went out the Lead waters—then vu,
follow up his trail from town, and see where he
Cut off to old Wentwortb'e for its amain he slept
there—and it may turn out the trains hail and hi*
are two different ones. 11 so be that's the in/th r ill.
seep on the scent 'till I flail out who the rail rufran
is—and there's no time to be last, for homy come
up to snow, and that will .fill•tip the tracks to short
crier. Soludy give me your hand, and there,''.
continued he, kissing the blushing girls lips, " there.
I'll and out who the scamp is, or, in case that's
impossible, if Doctor klvington -does'nt gin clear it
shall be his own fault." • • • .•
A heavy fall of snow did unfortunately occur that.
night, leaving the prairies as white and smooth as
unwritten paper, and conseqnently deprived our
eilumianal hero of the most obvious, and apparent•
ly)of every mode of substantiating his annocence.
His confidence however, in the Divine protection
was undiminished, and nightly from the silence of
his cell, went up the inaudible aspirations ,of Raoul.
that firmly relied un the goodness and justice of
its prayer hea i g Father. Nor did those pious ens:.
ons ascend unrccompanied through the still vault
of night to the Almighty's ear. The aged mother',
e3ntrite head was poured out in an agony of prayer,
the parems of his affianced bride kn&t of en before.
the throne of Heaven for the welters of their slam.
dared boy, as in their affection they called him,
and the blue eyes of Catharine wept tears of sup-,
plications and her pure and innocent heart, hitherto
untouched by sorrow, except on the axe- i in of her
sister's death, now con i malty sent unworded ask
unutterable appeals to her Creator for her lover's
life. In the meanwhile week after week rolled by
and the day appointed for trial 'et leught anived.
Cab CLODS.D !VEST crEgz.
(jam Tan philosophy, says Plato, consists more
in fidelity, constancy, justice, sineesiit, and in WO
love of our duty, than a great capacity.
tn.- He WIIO has forfeited his good faith hasnoth.
ing else to, lose. All the other posses ions of this
world are cOrnparatively of little value when weigh
ed against oar integrity and honor.
'Kr Irmo are the earn of horns., Vaiq ,is it at
wide intervals to say, "I'll save this year," if at
each narrow interval you do not say, "I'll save
this hour."
Or THAT Slate of life is MOM happy, wherein,
superfigiiies. aro not required, and necessaries at
Pot minting
0:!r Tile triumlihe ofituth are the most glorious,
chiefly because,they are the most bloodless of all .
viLturies, deriving tlkelc highest lustre from the num
ber of saved, not of the slam.
(:*"' REM, fidelisy may be rare, but it axial" in
(lie heart. rimy only deny its worth and power
who nespr loved a blend, or labored to make a
Lista! happy.
Do good to your Iliends, to keep tbem —to
. 704 4
twenties, to gain them ! , .
MEE
BEI
Mr
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