The Montrose Democrat. (Montrose, Pa.) 1849-1876, June 10, 1858, Image 1

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fl Ocrritsou, Vabtiqtr.
Englishronarchs;
,
- First WJUiam e Norman:
Then 'William, his Son,
Henry, Stephen and Henry;
-Then Richard and John...,
Next Henry, the third;'
• • Edwards, one, two, three;
And again after . Richaid,
Three Henrys wo see,
Two Edwards, third' Richard,
Two HenryS z ixth Edward,
tau een Mary,-Queen Bets; -
Then James. the Scaehman, -
Then harles, \whom thersiew,
_ Yet received afier Cromwell,
- Another Charles too;t,
Next James the second
A.cended.the throne; ...
• : Theri good William , arta 'Mary
Together came bn, •
'Till Anne, Georges four,
And fourth WilliaM all past,
God sent, us Victoria,
Igaj , Fhe long be.the last!.
Trom.the Golden Priid
AGNES ARNOLD;
On,
THE STORY OF A WILL.
BY gAIIcEL YOUNG
IL A PTE, P. IX .
Aro ,
• TILE REVELATION.
The lawyer remembered that, at the &par
:ture of his elient,..he manifested cotisiderable
uneasiness at the seemed to be on
the watch for some person in the vicinity.—
This hal *retried misgivings in his, mind,
which be thought might lead to something
explanatory cf the deep mystely hanging
Around his chent'aca.e. - - •
• But the difficulty *as to obtain .a clue to
the cause of - the action un the. part of Luke
Arnoldi'•44 was curious' to 'see hiM peeOng
-out before he ventured to go forth, and -it
was very strange I to observe his abrupt de
pasture. j Fortune might yet favor hiM, and I k e
would bide his time. •
•
Since our hero had opened his law office,
he had failed ( to attend the• parties, soirees,
and other
_places of amusement, as snitch
formerly, and his cornpinions missed him
• - very much froinlheir coterie ; and the ladies
were in agonyin tieing-thus deprived of his
delightful. presence. . But- Joseph never once
. -thought of thesellivolo'ns 4natters. For this
he may be termed a se!firh fellow, and sitb
j!ct himself to very ungenerous remarks; but
tie cared not for - these. . His mind was .ti
gressed 'in one only Sul jeer, and tbat'was
the unraveling' of . the.mystetious Will case,
and - the first rre..had everltied, On - his table
t4ere several scented notes, inviting-his pres.
ence at a social reunion, or a gathering-of
his male'friends for-a social patty of pleasure;
but his reply was brief toall—business before
' anything else.
"Hating returned from his trip Po
a.d fully satisfied. that he, Was now in a fair
Way to save his ~client from any t-ery great
trouble in havin.:7 the Will properly proved,
and entered .upti probate; but. he thought
the probability of seeming - the property to
the prc4ent. claimant .Was,.. to say the -least,
- very doubtful.
About eight o'clock that evening, Joseph
found himself on his way to the residence of.
Mary De Vere; It was true, he did not g
for the purpose , Of extending to that aged
dv any further assistance In the way of chari
ty, nor from any idle motive, or to gaze upon
their poverty. "No, indeed I The young
lawyer had a higher purpo4 in view. And
to accomplish this wasodiesolject of his visit
at this time. He had been careful to provide
himself with suitable weapons ot defence, for
the locality into which he was going, was so
notoriously. dangerous, that he deemed it only
safe to prepare himself 'for such emergencies
• as had recently ,occurred.
As he stepped up to the door of ,he hovel,
he paused for'a moment, but hearing rothing,
unusual from'within, gave a rap on the door.
a*moment it was opened, and Aggy pre
: sented herself. When she recogni z ed Josephr
a glow of pleasure lighted up her fice, awl.
she hadellim error.
_lle was sonlewhat Sur
prised to find a third 'occupant of the wretcha.
ed home: but be was soon in possession pf
the facts which - bad transpired since his for
, finer visit, and he c,heerftilly entere.i into con
tersation with'the invalid. '
" He is very weak yet,;' said the kind heart.
ed girl," andcannothear to talk much."
• •• Well, I shall. not intrude 'myself upon
hi but a few Simple questions Will suffice
to . answer my pnTose." And our hero con=
versed with him on Matters relating to his
present" condition, and' the causes' leading
thereto. .r•
it appears that during the evening on
'Which he was so badly hurt ; he hsd been In
tomilany with two or three persons drinking,
and after he hats become somewhat intoxica
ted, they invited him •to=accompany them
down street for a walk. To this he had as
sented, and the result was the blow and the
stab.
• " And du you assign no cause for this?
asked Joseph. 1" ft is strange that men would
"thus seek to die your life without some mo
tive"
"There wai - a motive-- - --no,doubt,a substan
-tial one. Thee men belong , to the worst
gang of rowdies in the city, and wlio - Jor a
few - dollars, would be guilty of alutrout any
act. -. ',
"And what reason, have you forFtlii - nking
that your gooks sought hy these men for a
reward-l" queried Joseph, hig interest inborn
log -
Toe strongest reason in the world. The
taine.man who incited them to do it, once
hired an assassin to lodge. a ballet in my
brain, but. 'the attempt failed."
Here, reader, we have" Tom Brunton—the
same man who had performed an itct_iif vil
lainy for - Luke Arnold, and whose life had
been sought by that, man, in order - that his
. fearful secret might he forever bidderr.in the
grave. _
"My friend, you are. a sDange:r to ine,",
said Joseph, in a eympathising, voice, "and
it seems that you are - surrounded with con
stant danger - . It -is yottr dtrtY•tO:take such
steps - as . will 'effectually prevent. a rectirrence
of these attempts uponyour life , ‘" •
"How am Ito I Their= who seeks
my life stands high in the world,and. tug
poor voice &add neierjeacti hien - f and the
taut sighed .htavity. But;' Itskraititia
birnself is he spolter,:and e)evated his :Clenched
hand above his head, " but there's an hbur of
retribution aptiroaching, and perhaps what I
can tell will
,sink him lower than I -harks' fal
len—and that is' low enough; God knows."—
He sank back Upon the pillow,,exhausted.
Agg,y and her foster-mother were silent
witne,ses of thiS scene. Aggy was about to
igterfere, to keep our hero from prolonging
Me-convers ation, but Joseph waived her back
with his band. • "
t• A few word. more; Aggy, and - I will bare
done with him. -Be not alarmed."
Joseph paused untkthe sick man had re
covered, when he bent-over him, and kindly
taking his right hand in bis, stooped down,
and asked, in a '„whisper,—
1 . Will
,younot caufide - to me The name of
the man who yon say is placing your life in
jeopardy I I will keep it proPoundly secret
if you wish. 4'an you trust me 'I" and Jo
seph gazed earnestly, into the face of%he
" Bend vdur scar l6wer," and the invalid
whispered two Words into his eager ear.
"Is it possible I" cried the lawyer, starting
up: "Then you. know him I"
•- Know him said iirtinton, with asheer,
" know him I AlAs I too well I know him.
He. has been the bane of my existence. He
haS placed a devil within my breast Which
torments me continually: I shall never know
peace it: this world, and t fear.none in that
which is to come.3'
" Say, my good friend, do hot despair
There is hope foryou. There was hope for
the thief, even in the laut hour.';.
" Yes, yes, fur ,a thief," exclaimed the Tan,
as though his aoul was enduring ter4ble
pant , " yet, for the thief—but not for the
murderer."
Murderer!' and Joseph Fluted back
frotn:the bed, as - if a serpent had stung him-;
and Amg,y and her -faster-mother fled toward
the - doOr in alarth.
The thought 'WM terrible. A murderer
beneath their humbhi roof, the recipient of
theirkiminess! !lad his hands been stained
w.th human blood!
"Terrible, indeed !" said Joseph. " But,
Aggy, be not shinned. Perhaps this is but a
will delirium which has seized his brain, mid
conj,tres up strange fancies."
"Merciful father, that y( ur words were only
true! But, alt s 1 I feel too deeply the awful
truth, which forever tortures hie, whether
asleep or awakel"
Joseph again drew nigh. lie looked
upon` the now Bushed face and burning eye
of Brunton. fie• must know the terrible se
cret from the guilty Man.
" Will you not un'burthen your soul of this
awful crime of i which you speak I I will
promise you that I will not info,rtn on you to
cause your arrest. I will rather use my best
efforts to save your life, if it be in danger for
this crime." - -
" I will tell yautellyou all, for this prior
bosom has borne the pressure of the fearful
secret too longJ Listen- to my story—for
I will be btief—and judge for yourself bow
far_liam guilty of the crime. It is over ten
_v_eariiaince I was in the.employ of Luke Ar
nold,,r of W ,in Luzerne county. I was
engaged as his !tastier. Two years previous
to me leaving there. John Arnold, the. broth-''
er of Luke, died and left all his vast, property_
to his chly daughter, Agnes. The will ns3de
provi=lon that ; io case . of the death of Agnes,
•all the,property Should pass into the hands of
Luke: At the expiration of tab •yeers, this
man,. Luke Arnold, came to me in a COD&
, lential manner,•and told me that it was his
wish to have hiS niece Agnes removed quietly
from his borne, so that she might never return.
'lle offered me one thousand dollars to take
her away in such a manner that no person
would tie aware of I li. The Money tempted
me to fall in with 1.13 scheme, and I under
took the_removal of the girl. ilt was urkder--.
staed that, if by ;ny accident the life of the
innocent girl should be destroyed; - so much
tfitetetter ; but if that failed, ta , convey her
to some distant place, and there desert her.—
I started with the child, fully resolved to de
stroy ber, but myiheart failed me and 1 bro't
her this-cityl. ; rid deserted -her. I never
returned to W—=--, but - securing a berth
on shipboard, went to sea, and did not re
_terillere for five years. At the end of that
time, I came to phis city, without money, and
without friends, .• I dated not go back to
W-:,=-- - - --,and ((line into bad company here,
I soon sank to!the lowest degradation. - An
attempt was made upon my life ; at the insti
gation of. Luke Arnold, who discovered me
here. -But I escaped. I met him again, a
few days ago, and charged him with the
crime, and threatened to reveal his villainy
in having the .tltild abducted. For ils4, I
have.no - doubt,l my life was sought again;
but again have I escaped. Luke Arnold has
a heart as black as. night, and for money ,
would parse stip° act to obtain it. Ile loves i
money, mid ma l kes it his God. You have
-
briefly my secret. „
Joseph was utterly eonfouh .
Whit
dede 1
Brunton was speaking, Mary De Vete drew 1
closer to the bedside, and listened eagerly to!
every word-as it fell from the lips of the/
speaker, and Aggy could hardly control her;
'emotions, for she felt - that this story of wrong,'
had stlmetbing le it which related to herself.
"The toysi ry no longer surrounds the!
t
case," were the quickly uttered words.of Jce•!
seph. Then turning to Brunton, he said,!
" You regard,yOurself in the light of a
in
derer, in baying been the instrument, in tire
hands of LukeArtiold in removing this childl"!
"I do!" - and Tom Brunton buried his face
in the pillow, as'if- to hide the terrible tho'ts;
from his mind. •
" What would be your feeling's if this child!
still lived, and would -soon be fully restored,
to all her rights, I"
" Ah I I would- not exchange my position l i
for all the world's.wealtb. -A kingdom , could)
not buy the happiness which that fact would
bring me." . - 1 ~ 1
"-Then,my poor friend, let me usher that joy ! .
into your soul. That girl still lives, Rod will;
ere lung, be -proclaimed the rightful heir of
that wealth of which a eillaieoua relative
seeks to depriVe her."
• - "Say you so• I r-still lives!" Bring her to me,
that I may look upon her—beg her pardon!
and,d*." ,
_I, 1-
1
"Nay, sir, there is happiness even for you
Li ve am pit shati see all thesethings consumf
mated." ~ 1" .: , .
' I
"Thank 01-41 4 and ilr tuiton, overcome with
the. feelings which ibis last assurance prof .
dpced, dank back .tipon Idi pillow, unable 1.6 1
niter his-joy fit wads.
_.,_ ,
But wink mere the feelings of Aggy and
her fester- niofheri as' these strange reveletlor4-
• - ! • ii < <•ORE GOD AND TWlti -4CONSTITLITION.s'Yitiites
Sontrese, SustAanna Conntg, trApttsbaD morning, Zulu 10, 1&5&
411 upon their astonished ears? , Feelings too
deep for utterance had taken possession of
them, and they stood awe-struck. Thestbought
was's() greats the prospect so brilliant, that
the pale girl was speechless.
The foster mother caught Joseph by the
Arm, and gazing intently into his face for a
moment, asked—
" And. is this truer
Joseph was disposed
. to smile at her Aq
ionisliment,- but' knowing that, it would be
the greatesi happiness to the aged woman to
he confirmed in the trhth of vThat she had
lust hearth assured her that it was all true.
"God be praised!" and the poor woman was
to overcome by her *Motions, that she could
'lay no more, but sought a seat, and sank in
to it,,appareutly powerless. , . •
"Aggy, my poor girl, you seem bewildered.
This is glogous news for you. Do not longer
doubt the goodness of Providence. His ways
are inscrutable, but always marked with wis 7 .
om. Though you have suffered wrong, and
hrough that wrong, endured much privation,
yet your dap of sufferirg are passing away,
and all is bright antl cheering on your future
i.inthway. Come sit down beside me, and let
me have a few moments' prisie conversation
With you, in view of what has passed this
vening."
hThey sat down togi Cher and held a con
tersation of considerable length, in an un
ertone, and at • its conclusion, they afose.
It was now late, and Joseph must he welding
his Way home. Before leaving he had a few
words with poor Brunton, who thanked him
froirt his heart, for the consolation he had ie
heived from his assurance, and he now asked
that his life thight'be spared to confront Luke
Arnold at the 'proper time and place, and
punish him fbr what-he had done in the past.
lo,=eph did not irittoeuce Aggy to him as the
heiress, but left the future to bring that about
oseph bade theta all good•night, and retired.
1 - CLIAPTER X.'
I' MOTHER AND DAUGHTER.
The usually quiet town of W- was
omewbat relieved of its monotony by the
ppearance of a beautiful and very interesting
young lady, unaccompanied tt'y any person
save an aged mother. Tlrey took up their
.itlence at the best hotel in the place, and
the young gentlemenwere on qui vice in re
gard to the suiden, though very welcome
ddition to ;the society of W-. It was l'e
,o
rted that the young I.dy was an heiress,
nd this fact added to her beauty, rendered
er an °Neat of admiration to those who,
/Paving no fortune of their own, wEre very
/ amiably disposed to look for it in others,
where, esrecially, esrecially, the chances were that they
aright win and wear it. Miss Agnes Arnold,
a the yourm,lady was called, was frequently
he guest of the best families in the place,
:nd among the rest, she was pressingiy in
-ited to take tea at the house of Luke Arnold.
. .
Like Arnold heard the lath's name bruited
bout, but it necei raised a suspicion in his
mind. He . saw het aged mother, and, like
oseph Costar, at - his first interview with
Aggy, paused when he-got thus far, for the
',comparison could go no further.
i Miss 4.lrnold atid her Mother were hospita
bly entertained 'at the Arnold manson, a
splendid home, by-the-ray, surrounded by all
the luxuries and beauties which a quiet sub
urban residence should possess. The after
noon and evening glided - delightfully away,
and the hour of departure had arrived. A
carriage was in waiting to convey the visitors
to the hotel, when Mr. Arnold, in a-plsasant
conversational tone, rallied Miss Agnes on
the similarity of her name with his. "It is
strange," he said. _
"It does seem .strange," replied Agnes,
looking archly into his face, and smiling.
"and 'it is still stranger, Mr. Arnold, when
understand that you had a niece whose name
was the same as mine.".
"That is true," said Luke in a deprecating
voice. "But the poor girl she is gone from
us. rter fate was no donlea hard one."
"Why so, Mr. Arnoldi" asked Agnes, wish
ing to lead him on, as she had evidently an I
ulject in 'view in doing so.
"She was heiress to fifty thousand dollar's
and was dearly beloved by the - whole house.
She was our pet."
"Indeed she was the light of our home,"
said• Mrs. Arnold, and a tear started in her
eye-a.
"Poor thing. And have you never heard
of her I" inquired Agnes.
"Never!" said- Luke emphatically, and
if he had spoken his thoughts he Would have
added, "and I hope I never will," but he
paused ere his thoughts found -utterance.
"t remember," said Agne', "of often see
ing a young gill in Philadelphia, whose
_name was Agnes—often I have conversed
with ter when she came to the kitchen door,
seeking cold victuals. She told me she had
once teen happy—lived in a fine house and
all shat—bnt had been taken away and
brought to the city and deserted."
"Oilr -poor Agnes, I am sure," said Mrs.
Luke Arnold, and fresh tears started to her
eyes:
"Can't be," . iaid Luke, and his voice quiv
ered as he spoke. "if it were our lost girl.
she would have found some means to get
horte—stieh a short distance."
"Poor, poor child, what she must have
suffered—and perhaps died from want," and
Mrs. Arnold melted again.
"I think shy is still living," said Ague..
"It is not very long since -I saw her. She bad
learned to cew and was working for the elOth
iers."
"Indeed !" and Luke Arnold trembled all
ovlra c iAre jou not mistaken, Miss Ar
n
"No, sir, the girt is the same.. She has a
hard time of it. Without friends in the world,
she is Strpggling to gaid a miserable sub-
sisten6e."
"Ob , dreadful !" Mts. Arnold bent ou ap.
pealing look upon her-husband—but he saw
it not. His mind was too busy with the fast
crowding toughts; that rose up lilte ghosts-to
frighten hint
Agnes bad aceompliShed her purpose.
Alarm had taken possession of Luke Arnold,
and be feared that his long cherished secret
would be revealed. h was s night of s tor
ment to bini.
the ladies were escorted to the carriage
and bade adleo,lo their entertainers.
Luke Arnold did not close his eyes to
slombef that Efis tided 'was upon the
rack. Pivot, sena alarmed, him, and he
Would start al if some terrible Vision was phi
sing befOrd Then sit a Luke Arnold's
hour of satiation: Had Ett" then •retraced his
,steps=-b i nd be their scrie - irkleitore tbe
WE=
girl to ber rights—lad he then foregone his
purpose of dishosei r tly enriching himself, he.
might have beer happy, and secured that
peace of mind which was now forever passing
away. But the Rubicon bad been passed
and instead of calla raflection Fris i atirid was
leeniing with desperate purpose to accomplish
what he bad Undertaken.
So it is ever. That man who will permit
himself once to commit a wrong, op - ens the
way for fresh innorat ton and before he is a•
ware, his moral character is stained with
crimes which woOd have . mado him - shudder ' ,
to contemplate, waen his heart was pure. ,
Man is prone to err, and it, requires •to con
stant exercise othg best faculties to keep him
from the commission of wrong. Such is ba
,
Mani tv.
The scene enacted in the - parlor of Luke
Arnold on the previous evening soon found
its way among the gossip-loving pOrtion of
the community, and proved to be more than
a nine days wonder. Many things• were.re
vived which _hail been :forgotten, and the
sudden disappearance of the innocent Agnes
was talked-about, atd new curiosity aroused.
Fresh suslicitns wehrt aWakenedand many
facts traced to living sources, which years
ago had been hushed up, lest their repetition_
might affect the 'reputation of Lake Arnold,
who stood highin the community and whose
Irndness to the pretty young_ heiress was s
matter of remark among all who were on
te?tris of intimacy with the family.
One fact bad been entirely overlooked at
the time of the unexplained disappearance of
Agnes. Toni Fronton, who for many years
bad been. in the employ -of Luke Arnold, at
the same time left his place, but no one ever
thought of connecting him•in any Way, with
the citcumstances which hung around the
fate cf the abducted or lost girl. It was
strange, too, that it was not so,for the exite
trent in regard to her disappearance was very
intense--and every suggestion was made that
would, in any manner,i serve to throw.light
upon the mysterious transaction:
But now, since the advent of the young
lady and her mother, and the conversa ion in
the "parlor of Luke Arnold, these things and
many,sitnilar stories were brought to light.alt
bearing upon
,the interesting subject: Luke
Arnold felt deeply the position in which cir•
cuinstances had suddenly place I him.. Ile
knew that suspicion _was._directed at him—
and he felt as a Criminal only can feel who
knows his guilt, and fears the evidence which
will .sonvict him of the charges laid against
him.
The amiable wife of Luke Arnold suffered
much from the reflection which occupied her
mind since the conversation in the parlor
It was her unutterable conviction that Agnes
Arnold, the lost heiress; still lived; and she
urged upoh her husband the necessity of at
once making some efforts to reclaim her. But
to these appeals Luke was deaf. To attempt
this_ would overthrow his whole fabric of hope
which ho had been years in building. And
not onlyso, but it would ruin him in charac
ter. 'He must appear as 'a felon before all
honest men—and with a conscience already
seared with an infamous act, and , his reputa
tion sullied by the breath of suspicion. What
could he do but fly from those who kneW
him i .
'•lf I can but obtain the probate of the will
and at once be put'in possession of the proper.
ty, methinks I will be sal... Before this time
the only man I feared is out of the way. As
for the gill, she can never appear against me,
fir she has, no friend_ who will 'step in to in.
terfero in her behalf. I will write at once to
my lawyer to mme on and have the business
elwei up. Raymond will be here in s a day
or two, and then I may-bid defiance to the
world."
Luke Arnold wrote to his lawyer, Joseph
Custer, requesting, his immediate presence,
and on receipt of the letter Joseph sent a line
to M•. Raymond, wishing, him to return home
at once.
In the meantime, Tom Brunton was rapid
ly gaining:strength Old was preparing to -ac
company the lawyer k W--- - -. Joseph had
everything properly arranged to proceed in
the matter and only waited until Brunton
should recover and RaymOnd return home
before he would begin the proceedings.
The young lady and her mother still sre
maimed at the hotel, and the interest which
had been aroused in regard to them still con
tinued to increase; and even some people
hinted that the:young lady bore a res.emb
lance to the Arnolds of that vicinity, and
went solar at to assert that there was a strong
probability that she was really the heires.
But these were only surmises and bad nothing
solid to rest upon.
Even Mr. Luke Arnold beard these things
hinted at and he grew uneasy. He felt the
importance of at once closing up the matter,
Slid for this purpose waited with the ulmo , t
impatience the arritil of the lawyer and the
witness, Raymond. He had /aid his plans
well, still-be was fearful in view of recent
events, that something mightoccur to inter-•
fere with his schemes, and at times would
give way to the deepest despondency. He
felt nervous and easily alarmed,• and when
he noticed the suspicious glances which met
him at every turn, be - felt very uncomfortable.
He giKenn to see difficulties : shhere none
existed before. He knew well that, if his
right.as claimant under the will would be •
Contested, a suit to establish- him in his as
serted rights must inevitably follow; and if
this should occur and there were any living
witness whose testimony could create a doubt
as to the justice of his claim, or thrOsi a sus
picion over his• past action, then would his
chances be impaired— and this very doubt
aid suspicion be enough, to render him an
Uneasy posseltot, as . well as the object of con
tinual-charges. Would he sulject himself to
all this co olumely_—would he trail his "Web
fished honesty ih the dust Would he have
himself proclaimed a villain to the ,world, and
ruin not
. oaly himself', but destroy forever the
hanpineis of his family! .
W . 4.•sha I see. •
Haying all his airangements completed,
Joseph started for For several days
he had been maturing projects in his mind,
and felt confident that everything would -re•
stilt as he anticipated. He was comfortably
lodged in the town, and as matters must soon
he brought b eaut ifule had no ime to lose.
ite bad seer the Agnes t Arnold and
==3
CHAPTER XI
THE APPROACHING CRISIS
dArtift
QUARREL.
44:;!!• - •'..?•;" ':4,
I==J
her motherspent an half hour in a delight
ful fete a fete with. them nut kade them adieti
for the evening,
with .many reiffers — that he
was compelled by business to deprive himself
of further pleasure in 'their company for - Abe
present. Several young getitlemen who were
th4re were of the decided- opinion that the
young and handsome Philadelphia lawyer
had made an impression on this heart.of• Miss
Arnold, and thus lessened their own chances
of securing a hold upcn her affections.
"Deuced unlucky, 'pon honor, that this
Philadelphia gent made MS apperurtrce at
this mom( n'. I flattered myself that I was
making an Impression—but such is my
luck?' '
This soliloquised Mr. Adonis Eglantine,
very elegant and very fascinating young gen
tleman of --, but alais, ho was doomed
to grievous disappointment. .
That evening Luke Arnold balled to see
Joseph Custer. Joseph appeared pleased to
see him, and was informed by his client that
Mr. Raymond had returned and everything
was ready to have the will authenticated and
entered upon probate.
"Are you sure the mist is dear—nothing
in the wat r and Joseph seemed to wear a
suspicious look as he bent his scrutinising
gaze upon Luke.
"In tho way," said Luke, starting, "what
do you mean, Mr. Custar I 'Have you made
any discoveries which might give tis any
trouble 'I"
"That depends somewhat on the way we
look at matters. There have been hints
thrown out, which,. jf they have any grounds,
will givens considerable trouble."
"Well, upon my - word,that appeats strange.
If you had any hints affectik, my claims,
why did. you not inform I f . sooner?. You
have let matters go too far- tire consulting
me."
Luke was angry—and looqil-uneasi ly . up
on his lawyer. Had he heard any of the re
ports respecting the girl being alive, or worse
—had Tom Brunton given him any inform
ation I Luke really felt
_tilarmed, - which,
added to his anger at the prolpect of defeat,
just on tle eve of victory,was.enough to Make
him. feel very unhappy.
"These hints have reached me from various
quarters and though nothing :more perhap=
than merely supposition, yet I have felt in
clined to attach some importance to
.theni,"
said Joseph Custar, and he kept his eye
fixed on his client, to mark the effect of his
words, . ,
'yon think them important, eh I Well
and if they are so, will they amount to any
thing ?"
And Luke was all anxiety to hear the de
cision of his lawyer.
.
"They are not only impOrtani, Mr. Arnold
but if prod' can-be brought -to sustain them
then you must give -way -to another elaiman ,
under this Will.
"And who is that, Costar, who ?"
Arnold advanced .close to the lawyer as he
spoke.
"Agnes Arnold!!
"Who !" exclaimed Lute, while he stood a
picture of despair.
"Agnes Arnold !"
"Impossible 1" cried the client with d,sper
stion in his tones. "It its impossible, Custar,
she does not, live to make a claim."
"flow you know that, Luke Arnold l" de
manded Joseph with emphasis; and looking
him's:traight in the eye as he spoke..
"I suppose so," was the uncertain re-
•
sponse,
"Luke Arnold, and as the lawyer spoke lie
rose to his feet and pointed his finger at i
client. "Luke Arnold, you are known to tl e
world as an honest man thus far—yThatever
of evil attached to you has been . kept' prO
foundly secret—hence you stand fair against
Mere irhinuations. Thus . you•came to me,
your pretensions made the think you honest,
and 1 dnderook your,ease. But many events
have very recently transpired, which lead me
to think that von have only. presented your
fairest character.'
"Si r,"and as Luh Arnold •spoke,he Clencli•
ed his bands in a menacing manner,and strode
to the side of the . lawyer. "Sir, do 'you
mean to charge me with wrong in this mat
ter T"
"I undertook this (rise as a lawyer, but
never for a moment thcrught that I must aid
in consumating a villainous project: I find,
sir, that a great wrong exists somewhere, and
that to serve you further, would implicate me
in perpetrating wrong, I, decline most em
phatically to act for you longer."
Tustar--;" and LulteX face instantly As
sumed an imploring expre:stion. "For heav
ens sake, do not desert me now."
"Answer me a single question. Your re
ply may change my mind in regard to my
decision. Do you knot, of did you ever
know a man named Thomas Brunton I"
The color instantly deserted the .face of
Luke, and he shrunk bask from the. lawyer
as thongh ri demon menated him. It was
several mothents before he 'could find words
to reply.
"Brunton, 'Brunton, why yes, he was my
hostler once."
bince ?"
"About ten years-- , "
"Enough. If I am Correctly informed he
left your house at the same time that
,your
neice disappeared.; d d discharge 3run
ton, or was he entrusted 'with funds and ran
off with the money 1 LdlFe Arnold, solve this
mittery •
Luke Arnold was thunderstruck. He could
not speak. It was true, then, that his secret
was out and,that the band of fate was against
him,.
"Take my advice; Arnold, and ultbdraw
your pletetwons to this property. It is not
too late—you can save yourself from infamy
and ruin. Will you pause I"
Luke was overcome with contending emo-
tions. If he paused now lie might save him-
self, but then all the wealth , which he had
promised himself, would pass like a dream
from his grasp. No, no,- le could not give
up so easily: . Eta would . stand 'firm in his
purpote, and yet irintnph. ovir - all. There
could no witness appear against hit clairn,and
he felt e:ure of success, although the difficulty
grew mote overwhelming every day. Tet,he
Would stiuggliori. If he' Moir it could be
no worse—and if be won, then the reward
would amply nonipensate him foi what he
must endure
Joseph had waited to bear tlie'denisioa of
tukis Aliold, aDd it caina.
"I. will Dever yield my claim until' com•
pelled by law and evidence. You have
answer.'
"We part. Ton have aboset a fatal cop-
. .
elision," and Joseph md tkoned his late
client to withdraw. Arnold retired without
a word.
,Josepb at once took the proper stern to
contest the Will with Luke Arnold. Arumge-
Ments were made for a speedy trial--and in a
day or two the•decision would be madeknown.
CHAPTER XIII.
coseLc,sloN.'
The day oftrial had dawned. It was a
day fraught with the -most important inter
ests and results: The wholecommunitY Were
on the tip-top of expectation. The friends of
Luke Arnold were conSdent he would gain
the suit and, he was unable to discover in
what *av he could- be denrivetaf that which
he considered his rights. Others sagely shook
their beads and thought that . something
would transpire on the trial, which would up-
set his pretensions, and leave him without a
hope. Such were the various feelings MRII2-
tained, and the subject was•freely \ discussed
pending The trial.
On the evening preceding the trial, Joseph
Custer held a conversation with Agnes in re
lation to the important case, and she expres
sed her feats that perhaps she would be un
able to fully establish her identity as the
heiress, and the failure to do so,would plunge
her into still deeper misery. But her feats
were removed by the arguments of the law
„ter, and she resignedlherself to whatever des
tiny awaited her. .
Agnes bad acted well the part *she was
now playing. She bad appeared as we have
described in accordance with the suggestions
of Joseph. The design was to arouse suspi
cion in the minds of the - catnmunity, as well
perhaps alarm Luke, who reposed in such
fancied security. Thiibad been accomplish
ed, and the natural inquiry in the minds of
the people 1.11 them to form very different
eonclbsions touching the past conduct of Ar
-nold, and cast 'a suspicion around him,
which would to a great extent impair his pros
pects.
The 4egister's court was in re sion. The
judges were seated upon the' bench, the law
yers were busy preparing to hear .witn toes
And take notice of testimony. Every inch of
spare room was occupied by the interested
citizens. Silence was strictly observed, and
all waited with interest the cominencement
°Mlle proceedings. .The Court was fulls , pre
pated to pri a ed with the business berore it.
Joseph Custer, who was now the counsel
for the contestant 'bf the Will; arose. He
"Erized 'Upon the multitude of people around,
and for a moment; his heart sank within him.
It was to be his first attempt to address a
court, and holfelt a strange sensation as he
paused - to collect his thoughts. But feeling
the importance and righteousness of his case,
he calmed his mind for the effort. All eyes
were bent upon him middle knew that much
depended on what be' would Utter. We shall
not attempt to g've his wdrds as they fell
fr.ma his lipt,but we will merely state in brief
what his position was. After addressing the
judges, and stating the object he had in view
, in Grinning this suit, he went on to say that.
never had there been a better came present.
ed to the judgment of a court, but that like
wise there bad rever been a case in which
lainy and fraud Were so mixed up. It was
true that the character of the man who set
up his claim to' the provisions of the Will
stood high, no stain bad ever publicly been
attached to him ; fthe world . had known him
only as an honorable citizen. But he would,
in the course of this trial,:remove 'the-veil
which concealed his private life; and show as
black a record as ever stained the annals of
humanity. He would prove by incontestiLle
evidenee that Luke Arnold,at the time of the
sudden 'disappearance of Agnes, his ueice,was
aware of the moment , of her departure-and
that further, be had paid one thousand dol
lars to have the gill carried away so that she
might never return, and - that the agreement'
for her removal even extended to the taking,
of her life, if required to place her beyond
the possibility of return. He would prove by
a living-Witness, that the life of the person so
taking the heiress, was
Arnold. wice attempted at
theinstigation ofLuke o
A thrill cf hot tor . ° pervaded . every heart in
the court-house, and all eyes were bent upon
Arnold who sat beside his
„lawyer. Luke
paled for a moment, but instantly recovered,
and though he could not meet . the gaze di
rected at him, hemanaged to banish that
anxiety which guilt will impress upon the
features.
. "These facts," continued Joseph, "will be
) 1
proven. I wait to hear the oppos . te side,
when the proper witnesses will be call d."
The lawyer whom Luke Arnold It d em
ployed; .after Ctistar had declined, now a
rose. Ile waatt pan of forty-five, and rather
prepossessing in his appearanee. Ile spoke
without effort, and' though having but It brief
period to prepare for the trial, be spoke well.
He presented the character of his client as
a wall of brass against the attacks of the op
posing counsel, and felt confident that he
would come mit of the ordeal, unscathed. lie
said that the sreliance of the opposition was
based upon flimsey suppciitions, the merest
hints of busy gosaippeis, and had no sub
stantial basis* whatever. his client's past
history , was a clear guarantee of the purity of
purpose -nosy; and that be had no other,object
in view 'llan merely to obtain -possession of
what had-become legally his, in the absence
of the other ell imant named in the Wilt now
under' consideration. lie asked that the court
would receive the prayer of the petitioner,
end place him in possession of the property.
The subscribing witnessess were called, who
proved the validity of the Will. The court
wished to know if there were any other wit
nesses ready. Joseph Custar arose, and stated
that there was .one Very important witness
whom he wished called.
"Thomas Brunton!"
Was called, and considerable excitement
followed - the antiounceMent of • the name.
Luke Arnold started to his feet, but instantly
sat driwo. his alarm was sudden, and be
could no longer control his feelings. All eyes
were turned, to the passage. Presently, eman,
pale and wasted; but respectably eltid,was
seed to' ailiance and take his stand. The oath
was administered, and he proceeded to give
in his testimony. What he, stated to the Court
was the same in suhstrince as Which . the
reader has already beard. His identity. was
clearly iroVen, and he took his seat The
evidence was it terriLliblciw to Luke.-who
suit as immovable as a marble statue. ' Every
matt in that assemblage believed him guilty,
and he feared' ttie . terrible frown wbieh would
tneet.bitn if be dared to raise Via ises:, -
One other wiinere remain - ail to - be 6alledi
7 1 ...i^i.4 ,, !t
folinit 15, IgnAttr 21
and then, said Joseph, w i e.will permit the that
to reEt with your honors for a jecisioti.
"Agnes Araold!"
And as the tips tiff called the familiar
name, a , wild thrill went to every heart,and
every
,person seemed ko holittheir breath io
awe, as though they erected to .{ see - the den&
t
[Oise. , A shuffling of feet was heard, and in
a moment the beautlful.young lady who bad
created such a ftzroreamong the citizens of
W—, came forwarc. Mthe witness-stand.
She was recognized b t many who were pros:.
ent, and .evep. Lnke aised his eyes to gaze;
upon her; and whilel is lips : Quivered with
emotion, and -hist (rape seemed to shudder
with the fearful fate which now threatened;
:red, so as to be beard,:—
he involuntarily mutte)
`-"li—is—herl" ,
A painful.silence
by one of-the judge.
Agnes: When her idi
tibly established, the
and the mass dispersed)
news.
Lake Arnold sat st
his fellow-citizens.
ued. Butit was I?rokeu
asking a question of
:ntity was incontrover
rowa breatbe4 freer;
to 'spread the wondione
11. He feared to face
guilty as he was,
he knew not but that his life viould pay the •
forfeit of his villainy. Wretched man! But
he was permitted to e. cape. None could itir
jure the unfortunate who-thus had ruined
himself, and involved is family in his fall.
No steps were taken to prosecute him for his
crimes, and in the stillluessof the..night he
fled, none ever knew ivliat was his.fate.
Agnes was immediately placed in Possession'
of her property., 'She r gave to the distressed
family of Luis+. Arncild the homestead they
occupied, and'a sumqt money to render theta
free from want. Shci resolved to provide for
her aged foster-mothr, and bestow upon hey
competency, but she refused it, and only
esired that she usight.be • permitted. to pass
her few teMaining days . with her dear Agg,f.''
his was cheerfully'granted:
Tom Brunton was riot forgotten, and though
the wrongs of which he was g uilty in his past • ,
life had rendered his dyistetsce less happy, stilt
he sought. to atone fo his errors, and his life
pagled smoothly.
But, reader, hew this red-
.•
table history? It is not deinanded that we
should prolong it,s.thqt we give-you in detail.
all the -trifling minutiae which followed the
'decision in favor of Agnes Arnold. She was
now a wealthy heiresb,\ and had taken up ber
residence in the city of Philadelphia. She
moved in the most refined Arcles, and was
everywhere .receiyed! with that eclat• which
ever welcomes the rich.
After the lapse of a year,Joseph Custar and
Agnes Arnold were wedded. Their's was
happy lot, and life flows on
,in uninterrupted
pleasure. Our ben) no,longer practices law,
but having wealth,he.bas chosen a delightful ,
home near Philadelphia, where he is passing
his days, surrounded by every comfort, and
in the full and blissful enjoyment of every so
cial blessing -whicha pleasant companiod
can bring. [THE END]
A PASSISO IricroxXi.—As a man of. generi
rous heart from the country was guiding, a .1
few days since, his load of hay to the matket,
we saw following him; and gatherin the !
wisps of bay which fell frotri the load; a poor
woman' and two lads, the latter of ""perhapti
the ages of seven and nine years. Our atten
tion was specially draWnto them, by -obse rv
lug that the man 'frequently took pains to 1!
throw whole handfuls of hay down 'the side
of the load, in order, as was quiffs aPparent;
to, convey,in as quiet a manner as possible, 1 1
sentiments of comtoit to the-hearts of these
suffering poor. - AsOur;,walk lay. in the direo
tion of the market; we determined to witness I
the conclusion M this 'exhibition of sympathy' '!
arid generosity.
By-and-by the gleaning became so
abun
dant, that the poor woman could refrain froni
her expressions of gratitude no'longer; and
bursting into tears, she beckoned, .the an to
'stop and then, in a manner whinh indicated
both intelligence and a delicate \sense of her
wretched condition, besought Mid to.permit
her a single word of thankfulness for his kind
ness. " Madam," said the man, "I, too, have
been in the vale of poverty, and seen the tint' ,
when a lock qt . bay would have been consid
ered a treasure. friend - by an act of kind-
ness, of less value in itself - tb - an the one I had
done to you, saved me from despair, and made,
me hopeful for better days.
Years-have passed now,. and kind Provi
dence has hlessed me with a good fdrin.and
a happy home. For years as I waked each !.
morning, I have seemed to bear a sweet voice i
whispering, ' this slay remember the ioor.'":-
As he said this lie raised the fork and
threw in the woman's . Ordikas great a quanti
ty as she and the lads could carry, and then
drove onward, with a countenance , etpressive
of the truth—" It is better to give than to re
ceive." We turned from. the scene to read
again, and with greater profit than ever, the
story of Ruth, gleaning iii the fields of the.
generous - Ron, and of the kindneis of the
reapers to the destitute and successful gleaner.
THE CliViES.—ln acouhtry where the : .
.
roses have - no fragrance, and the . Wpmen no
petticoats ; wkre the laborer has no Sabbath;
at.d the matErate . no sense of honor • where
the roads Veer no vehicles, and the ships no
keels.; where old men, fly kites; Where the
needle points to the south, and the sign" of
being .puzzled is to scratch the antipodes of.
the head; .where the place of henot is onthe
left hand, and the seat of intellect is in the ,
stomach; Where to take off your hat,is
iniolent gesture, and to wear white garineati
is to put „yourself in mourning--=we ,ought
not to he astonished to- find a literature with ,
out an alphabet and , a language without a
grammar. If we add that, for countless cen
turies the tievcrement has been in the handi
of State philosophers, and the vernacular dia
lects haie seen 86411(16110 to 'the laborieg
classes, we must not be startled_thfind that.
this Chinese language is the most intricate,. i
cumbrous, add -unwieldy iehiele• 41. thought
that ever obtained attiong 44 . peonle:
There are eighteen diStinct languages in
China, besides the Court, dialect; an . al-.
though, by a beautiful 'invention desorsik
of all imitation, the written language iirso ,
contrived as to *ate hy, the same Citaracter
the sounds of each of 'the nineteen different
words, all of which it. equally_ represents, this
is of no great its° among the multitude who,
cannot read. .
There ii noi a man among oar Chinese'
saholari Who 'can speak tilt of these lair- ,
guageswith fluency; and the his no oite whoi
can safely either write or interpret an import-'
dirt
. giate pacer without the asaistanie of a
" toaehei."—li r- ong Kong. Correspondent of
/*Oar' Tintts. • ,