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THE ADVERTISER fMf f A' A rf
T. X IIACKEK.
FAIRBUOTEIER & HACKER.
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Published Every Thursday Morning
AT BIlOWXVILrE, NEBRASKA.
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READING 31ATTER 0XEYERYPAOE
TRACKED,
: I CHAPTER I.
,' THE GANDY FAMILY.
Our Ftory opens In the small sea
port town of Sandybank, upon the
eastern coastof England. Tbo scene,
the quay of the aforesaid town. The
time, dusk of a summer's evening.
The dramatis penonte, a youth of
eighteen years, and a young girl of
about sixteen.
As the more important personage of
Ihe story, wo will describe tho former
first. Ills figure U tmi ami weti Kufi
or hia age, and although he Is altiron
In tho Ill-cut, clumsy clothiug made
bv-a country tailor, ho carries It with
on air, superior to such externals.
3 lis hair Is long, dark, and wavy.
' ' His face is handsome, of an aristocrat
ic type", and although warm In tone
from constant exposure to tho nir,
his complexion is Inclined to paleness.
Hia eyes aro largo, dark, and brilliant,
hjs mouth full and haughty.
c The girl is a pretty blonde, with a
clear red and white complexion, and
pleasant irregular features. She Is a
rural belle of the humble class. Al
though her dress is of simple cotton,
It la tastefully and even coquettishly
" nrrauged. They have just met, and
hex timid, conscious glance as she
greets tho youth, tells a secret. But
be Js perfectly unembarrassed, strokes
the hand that she half-coyly offers,
and smilingly asks which way she
may be going, and where she has
"been.?
""I have been to grandmother's, and
I am. going home," he ansvered.
VLot . me carry your basket," he
said, taking from her arm ona of
those old-fashioned marketing bas
kets still used by tho country people.
""Why didn't you tell me. this morn
"Ing'wheti I saw you, that you were
going over to Marshland? 1 would
have confe and met you ou the road."
' "Well, people do talk so," she re
. plied, blushing.
"Well, let them talk. Tho very
worst thing they could say about us,
. Is that we are courting. No harm lu
that is there ?"
c To judge" by her look, she did not
soern to see so much harm in It. "But
there Is your mother, Charley ; you
know how she has gone on "
"I-am not tied to my mother's
apron-string,'' he answered flushing
.'angrily.
Nevertheless, the subject did ntit
appeaV'to be an agreeable one, for he
J abruptly changed the conversation.
"Did you notice what a splendid
sunset if was to-riight?". he asked.
-'Grandmother said it was a very
nasty-looklrig one," she answered,
simply: "that it betokened rough
weather coming on."
I "Oh, lam not talklng-about wheth
er It-meant rough or smooth weath
er," he rejoined, Impatiently ; "I am
only speaking of It3 beauty.' '
"Oh yes, I dare say It was very
pretty," she replied doubtfully.
"You dare say it was very pretty!"
lie answered, in the same tone.
(Couldn't you see- that It was very
beautiful, with all those crimson and
purple clouds?1'
"Oh, yes."
- A caustio remark rose to his lips,
but' he checked it by an exclamation
of delight, and pointing seaward, ex
claimed, "Look there ; is not that
lovely?"-
The object of his admiration wa3
the full moon rising red as fire from
- behind tho sand hills, put toward the
Fea. Over the rippled waters of the
harbor she cast a stream of lurid
light; above her were piled heavy
masses of cloud, into which the next
moment she disappeared. At the
eamo time, a fresh breeze came sweep
, . Jng from th ocean, bringing with it
, thjMnjaanlng anil dashing sound of
tho waves upon the breakers.
"I think grandmother was right,
and that we shall have some rough
- weather before morning, said tho girl,
casting au anxious look upon the sky,
but utterly unappreolatlvo of the
"ploturesque side of the view.
"I hope we shall ; I love to see a
good storm."
"You love to see a Btorm ! Oh, how
can you say such things?" she cried,
amazed Iy.
"Because. It Is grand to see tho
waves rolling, and dashing and foaru
Ipgt lth the lightning gleaming
over them, and to hear their thunder
as. they break upon the shore!" he
cried enthusiastically.
"I can't bear to hear them," she
answered, shuddering. "They frigh
ten me; and I alwayB think of the
peor fishermen, especially of Uncle
Hiram, when he la out at sea. I
should not like it to rain to-night,"
the added simply; for grandfather
has just had a little field of corn cut
down, and "
"How very matter-of-fact yon are,
Carry ! Youseem"to have no idea be
yond your uncle Hiram and your
, grandfather's corn."
He spoke very Irritably as he turn
ed round into ono of the narrow
streets that slope upward from the
quay, towards what the Sandybank
people call tho centre of the'town.
"Give me my basket, please, Char
ley ; thank you for carrying it, and I
wish you good night." Her voice
trembled, and her eyes were brim
ming with tears.
Her hurt tone softened him, and he
Bftfd, "There, there, -Carry, don't be
offjude.il ;' but I feel angry when peo-
ESTABLISHED 1S56.
Oldest Paper in tho Stato
plo don't appreciate the beauties of
nature."
"I have never been sent to boarding-school
like you, and "
"Oh, I did not learn to lovo sun
sets and moon-rises at boarding
school. All the boarding-schools in
the world cannot teach you those sort
of things, if they are not in you.'.1
This was spoken as irritably as his
former words, and it was not so dark
but that he could see her lip quiver,
and tho distressed look upon her face.
His heart was touched. There was
no one by ; he put his arm round her
waist, and drawing her close to him,
kissed away tho tears that were trick
ling down her cheeks. "There, there;
what a silly littlo thing you are!" ho
said, eoothtnely.
His action and manner was that ot
a lover and he was her lover, but
there was n ring of indifference, of
patronizing lu his tone, that did not
harmonize with tho action, tone
spoke no word, but in her sileuoe, her
tearful glance and yielding attitude,
was tho mute eloquence of affection.
They walked up tho old-fashioned
narrow street without exchanging an
other word. When they were nearly
at the top Carry halted, and, holding
out her hand, said, "Don't come any
further, Charley. I don't want your
mother to see us together."
He was about to offer an objection,
but on second thought, changed his
mind, gave her the basket and a kiss,
wished her good night, and turned off
into another street that crossed at
right angles tho ono they had been
traversing.
He stopped before a small house,
the parlor of which had been conver
ted in to a shop for the sale of lollipops,
apples and oranges, unwholesome
looking cakes, vegetables, ginger
beer, &o. To its other dry and wet
goods it added the sale of tobacco and
beer the latter article supposed "not
to be drunk on tho premises,' n point
of law that was being glaringly vio
lated at the time wo have chosen to
introduce the reader into its interior.
Upon a short broad plank, support
ed at either end by a barrel, sat a fish
erman and a field laborer silently dis
cussing between them the contents of
a quart jug, and smoking short black
pipes. At tho counter stood two
brawny women, also discussing, but
not silently, a mug of ale, and two
dirty children were buying limited
quantities of grooeries.
Behind the counter stood n little
weazened-faccd woman, tho weazen
face half hidden by an old-fashioned,
close-fitting, frilled nightcap. Jn the
peaked red nose, the thin lips, the
small sharp eyes, the withered skin,
and, above ail, the shrill voice, were
the unmistakable marks of a shrew.
The scene was lit up by the dim rays
of a couple of tallow candles, stuck in
bottles.
Tho sharp ring of tho bell attached
to tho half door, which he threw back
as he entered tho shop, drew all eyes
upon Charley. Fresh from the pure
night air, he could not resist au in
voluntary movement of disgust as a
cloud of rank tobacco-smoke was
wafted in his face.
"So you've chose to walk home at
last! Audi should like to know
where you've been, my lord, since
dinner?" cried the lady of the shop.
The youth's face Hushed ; and as he
perceived the grins of anticipation
upon the faces of the loiterers In the
shop, one and all of whom had, at
some time, felt the virulence of Mrs.
Gaudy's tongue, an angry look
mingled with his mortiGcatiou. But
he checked himself, and answered
quietly, "I have been to bathe. I did
not think you would waut me.''
The soft answer did not have its ac
credited effect upon Mrs. Gandy ; on
the contrary, it served only to sharp
en the shrillness of her voice.
"And what business havo you got
to think?" sho cried. "What busi
ness havo you got to bo out of tho way
I should like to know ?"
"I repeat, I did not know you
would waut me," ho answered, with
a quivering lip.
"Don't give me any of 3Tour sauce,
you youug jackanapes, or, big as you
are, I'll box your ears," screamed Mrs
Gandy.
This timo the youth made no ans
wer, but with crimson cheeks and a
choking In tho throat, passed behind
the counter, and into the little sitting
room beyond, with the couscieusness
that the faces of all tho lookers-on
were distended with broad urlus of
delight at his discomfiture.
The shrill voice of his mother fol
lowed him in j-et more heigteued
tones : "So I am not worth answer
ing now ! That's tbo way you treat
me! That's my thanks for sending
you to boarding-school, and makinga
gentleman of yon !"'
"Ah, Mrs. Gandy, it all comes o'
that schoolin' I" chimed in one of the
women who was standing at the cor
ner, "Catch me Eeuding any of my
young 'uns to school, though the par
son's always at me about it! It makes
em that stuck up as they don't know
what to do with themselves ; and as
lazy as can be."
"What's it to do with you, Mrs.
Potts, if I choose to send my boy to
fifty schools? So I'm to be dictated
to by you am I ? What next, I should
like to know?" cried Mrs. Gandy
turning her wrath upon the unfortu
nate speaker.
"Well, I didn't mean auy offence,
mum. I was only sorry to see as how
he behaved so badly to you arter all
you've done for him," answered Mrs.
Polts, humbl3' ; for sho was often glad
toget a few .things upon credit just
before wages day, and dared not of
fend the shop-mistress.
"He doesn't behave badly to me
he wouldn't dare I'd break every
bone in his skin if he was to try it on !
And if he did what's that to you?"
cried" cried Mrs. Gandy, who was de
termined not to allow herself to be
smoothed down.
The two men seated upon the plank
were vastly enjoying this scene; grin
ning from ear to ear, and nudging
each other with their elbows.
"Mrs. Potts is right," chimed in
the fisherman, winking at his com
panion. "There's nothing so bad for
a lad as larnin'. I've got ten young
sters, and there ain't one of 'em who
can tell 'A' from 'Z' ; and never shall
if I can help it."
The speaker was a tall gaunt man,
attired in a blue guernsey, a pair of
wide, rough trousers, tucked into
huge sea-boots, and an old sou'-wester
upon his head. His age might have
been between forty and fifty; his
hair was long, ragged, and grizzled ;
wind and water, frost and sun, had
given to his face tho appearance of a
dried Normandy pippin. It was not
an honest-looking, nor yet a pleasant
face to contemplate. There was a
cunning twinkle in the steel gray
eyes, and a look of savagery about the
heavy lower jaw, that disagreeably
impressed the spectator.
"More shame for you to boast of
such a thing, Jack Bilge !" exclaimed
Mrs. Gaudy, once more transferring
her wrath for she made a point of
never agreeing with any person, oven
although they might take her own side
of tho question. "Not that I think,"
ehe added sarcastlcalty, "that any
schoolmaster could beat into their
thick heads the difference between
'A' aud 'Z,' even if you gave him the
chance."
"I'd very Eoon beat it out of their
backs If he managed to beat it into
their heads," guffawed Bilge, think
ing ho had made a capital joke.
"I dare say you're brute enough for
anything!" was the retort.
"Well, you wait aud see what Mas
ter Charley's larnin' 'II do for you,
Mother Gandy," answered Bilge, ma
liciously. "Why, he'll turn you out
of the house by-and-by like a bit of
used-up lumber."
Mrs. Gaudy was at that moment
handing half-a-pouud of sugar over
the counter to a child ; but upon hear
ing the last words, in a torrent of
wrath she dashed it at the speaker; it
struck him full upon the forehead,
and the paper bursting, its contents
covered his laco ona eyes, uiimm
blinding him. With an oath, he
sprang to his feet and rushed to tho
counter; but Mrs. Gandy, screaming
with passion, ordered him to leave
the shop, threatening to throw o
weight at his head if he moved an
other step.
Her hand was raised and she would
have been as good as her word had
not a new comer at that moment ap
peared upon the scene. It waa a big
neavy -looking man, nearly six feet
high, with herculean shoulders, who,
pipe in mouth, issued from the back
room.
"Why, missus, missus!" he said,
quietly taking the missile out of her
hand ; "what's all this noise about?"
'In au instant she turned upon her
unfortunate husband, for that was
tho relation tho big man bore to her,
cri'iug, "And you there you sit from
morning till night sotting and smok
ing, while I'm working myself into
tho grave ; and you suffer me to I e
insulted by every good-for-nothing
fellow who calls for a pen'worth of
'bacca. Turn him out this minute,
aud if ever you suffer him to enter
that door again, it won't be the same
house that'll hold you and me!'
"I don't know what all this rumpus
be about," said Mr. Gandy stolidly ;
"but I'd advise you, Jack Bilge, to
clear out of this or I shall put you
out."
In the meantime, the originator of
the disturbance was wiping the sugar
out of his eyes and off his face.
"You may sxare yourself tho trou
ble of turning me out of your house
Bill Gandy," he said, quietly putting
the handkerchief back Into his sou'
wester. "I'll go without being turn
ed out ; and if ever I do come Into
your shop again, It won't be to buy a
penn'orth of baccy, I promise you.
I'll pay you back for that sugar one of
these days. You think yourselves
very close and very cuunin', don't
you? But thero bo folks as knows
more than you fancies. Take care of
yourselves, you and your shrew of a
wife. If she belonged to me, I'd put
o rope end about her back."
With this last remark, and a glance
of intense malignitj-, Jack Bilge put
his pipe In hia mouth, and lumbered
heavily out of the shop.
Mrs. Gandy endeavored to follow
after the man who had dared to use
such a threat to her, and was with dif
ficulty restrained by her husband.
Jack Bilge's parting words und look
left a disagreeable impression behind.
"Jack won't forget that sugar pellet
in a hurry," remarked the laborer,
who had not yet spoken.
"That he won't, Mr. Coles,' said
one of the women; "he's awful wi
cious when he's put out. You should
only see him at homo rope's-ending
the boys, aud theirmotuer, too, some
times. Where he takes a dislike, he
is awful."
A damp seemed to have fallen even
upon Mrs. Gand3''sfirery soul ; for al
though she continued to vituperate,
and pour farth the vials of her wrath
upon everything and everybody, her
fury appeared to be more acted than
BKOWVILLE, KEBBASKA, THURSDAY, JULY
real ; and In a very short time she
lapsed into a sullen calmness. One
by one tho customers departed ; the
shop was closed. Mre. Gandy had.
the reputation of being ".the most
Inveterate shrew in Sandybank,
while her husband was equally re
markable for his laziness, ond an
equanimity of temper that no provo
cation could move to anger.
From morning until night he sat in
his easy-chair, smoking his pipe and
drinking his beer, seldom speaking,
and only roused to action to ply hie
knife and fork. His better half might
scold it produced no more effect up
him than "it did upon his pipe ; not a
muscle moved not a puff of smoke
was Interrupted. At times, Mrs.
Gandy's exasperation going beyond
words, she would seize her herculean
lord by the shoulders, and try to shake
him ; futile demonstrations, which
elioited from him no further reproof
than a "Gently missua, gently ; you
will break my pipe."
Mr. and Mrs. Gandy were not na
tives of Sandybank. They had set
tled there about Bixteen years before
the opening of this story. The goss
ips of the town found them very ret
icent in regard to their past life; but
they contrived to ferret out that they
had been servant's in a gentleman's
family.
Charley was a baby when they came
to their new home. He was an only
child, and -continued to be so. His
early days were passed much the same
as other village children of his class,
and the first rudiments of learning
imparted to him by an old dame that
might have been a direct descendant
of Shenstone's celebrated schoolmis
tress. But when he was nine years of
age the boy was sent to one of the best
boarding schools in the country, much
to the indignation of all genteel peo
ple of the neighborhood, who were
virtuously indignant that the son of
a chandler-shop keeper should receive
as good an education as their own
progeny ; so Charley was sneered at,
aud bantered by his companions, who
used to deride him by playing atshop,
and selling infinitesimal quantities of
the goods in which his mother dealt,
until he thrashed the most obnoxious
of the wits Into civility. Better than
that, he thrashed thorn all in his apti
tude for study aud the extent of his
acquirements.
Tom, the grocer's son, and Jack,
the linen-draper's heir, looked down
with the most aristocratic contempt
upon Charley, the huxster's 6on. Too
proud to associate with his unlettered
etjimla tyy Jjlrtli, Itj wucoi, Couitio,
he was hated for his superiority, or to
be patronized by thoso above him,
who havo condescended to admit his
educational claims to their notice, he
was lonely and companlonless as far
n3 those of his own age and sex were
concerned.
Despite the money thu3 expended
upon his education, Charley's parents
did not evince much of pride or affec
tion towards him. Mr. Gandy never
showed pride or affection for an3T
thlng except his pipe and his beer.
Mrs. Gandy treated him with a harsh
ness and a coldness of manner quite
unnatural in a mother.
Ho had but one friend and compan
iona little girl about his own age
Carry Lee, to whom the reader has
already been Introduced. Sho was
the daughter of a dairyman, aud from
their earliest years they had been con
stant and affectionate playmates.
When Charley came home for his hol
idays, this childish intercourse con
tinued to be renewed; and to neither
did those seasons bring more pleasur
able anticipations than tho thoughts
of their reunion.
In the girl, this feeling gradually
ripened into a woman's love. In
Charley, it beoame a boyish love for
a pretty girl. Mrs. Gandy did not
like Carry, and having, either by her
own observation or from her custom-'
era gossip, got an inkling that some
thing like sweethearting was going ou
between the young people, sho flew
Into a terrible rage, showered upon the
poor girl, to Charley, the most oppro
brious epithets, and threatened all
kinds of vengeance upon both
should sho ever catch them together.
The youth naturally took the girl's
part, and set his mother's prohibition
at defiance. This happened n week
or two previous to the opening of this
narrative, and the mother and sou
had not been friends since.
The education he had "received
had not been Eown upon a
sterile soil, and therefinements Ithad
created in him revolted at the coarse
associations by which he was sur
rounded. Consciousness of superiori
ty, however, was rapidly engendering
egotism and other vices of solitude.
He had now finished schooling about
three months, and his home had be
come Intolerable to him. No word
had been said respecting his future
career, and all his inquiries upon that
point were met by a sharp rebuke and
a command to mind his own business.
No kind of employment was enforced
upon him; whatever he did in the
way of wori' was of his own will
and had he chosen to be entirely idle
no complaint would have been made
against him. Yet, for all this, his
mother never liked bim to be long
out of her sight ; but whether this
arose from a latent affection, or from
any other motive, it was impossible to
determine from tho observation of so
eccentric a person as Mrs. Gandy,
who most certainly did not wear her
heart upon her sleeve1.
The lad did not bear the slightest
personal resemblance to his parents
a circumstance which, evoked -some-
strange whispers from among the gos
sips of the town, some going so far as
to say that ho was not tho Gandy's
child at all. One day a woman under
the influence of large potations of
beer, jestingly hinted at the above ru
mor in Mrs. Grandy's shop. That
lady happened at the moment to be
washing her counter. The words had
scarcely passed the woman's lips be
fore the hot, soapy water was dashed
in her face by the irate shop-keeper.
From that moment, Sadybanks whis
pered Its suspicious sotlo voce, and well
out of that lady's hearing.
CHAPTER II.
STORY OF THE UNDISCOVERED CRIME.
Two days aftewards, Charley was
strolling about tho sands, where we
first introduced him to the reader,
when he heard a gruff voice call him
by name, and turning round saw Jack
Bilge hailing him from a little dis
tance off. Remembering the scene in
his mother's 6hop, and the sneering
and disparaging manner in which the
fisherman had spoken of him, Char
ley, after casting a glanco over his
shoulder, walked on without vouch
ing further notice.
But Bilge would not accept the cold
shoulder, and on perceiving that the
youth made no response to his hail,
he walked brlakley after him, and as
the latter did not care to present the
appearance of shirking a meeting, he
was soon overtaken.
"Didn't you hear me call you, Char
ley?" said Bilge, as ho came up.
"Y"es, I heard you," was the cold
reply.
"Ah, I see; you feel a little sore
over that row tho other night," said
Bilge, m a conciliating tone. "I
didn't mean any harm, but that moth
er o' yourn has such a temper, that
there's no speakin' to her without
making a blaze. I'd a drop too much
that night, and my tongue run faster
than my wit, and I thought I'd have
a bit o' fun, aud get the old 'oman's
dander up. As to what I said about
3'ou, why 3ou ought to know I didn't
mean it. Haven't 3011 and mo been
the best of friends ever since 3'ou was
a younker, no higher than my kneo?
There, tip us 3'our fin, and let b3'gones
beb3gones; it shan't happen again.''
And Charley did give his hand, al
though unwillingly
"I should ha' been off to Eea to-day
only the old boat sprung a leak the
other diiy ; so the bo3's have got her
ashore to-da', aud I thought I'd fill
up time in this way."
Thwvay.he-referj'ed to was groping
in the sand for eels, which he round
in great numbers, and after cutting
off their heads threw them Into a bas
ket beside him.
Charley lazily stretched himself up
on the cool, damp sand, and watched
the slaughter. After a time, wearied
with his work, Bilge sat down aud lit
his pipe.
"You don't seem quite up to the
mark to-da3, Charley," he said at
last; "dullish, like."
"I don't feel particularly bright,"
answered the 3'outh, listlessly digging
pits in the sand with his fingers.
"Suppose I was to spin 3'ou a bit of
a yam, just to pass away the time?"
said Bilge.
"There is not one of your old 3'arns
3ou have not spun to me a dozen
times, and I don't think you'd find
me a ver3 attentive listener just now;'
and clasping his hands behind his
head, and tilting his hat over his
e3'es, he prepared for a doze.
"You've not heard this one,' per
sisted Bilge, stolidly; 'it would have
been too exciting for your piccaninny
da3's, so I kept it back.'
What the duce are 3'ou drlviug at?
How confoundedly mjterlous 3'ou
are, Bilge !' said the 3'oung man in a
sleepy tone of voice.
'I am not the only ono that's m3'S
terious ; there's a good maii3 more
m3'steries about than jou ever guessed
at.'
'Quite oracular, I declare !' muttered
Charle3.
'I don't know what that hard word
means, hut I could tell j-ou something
that all -our school larnin' could nev
er find out; and that 3'ou'd give the
e3'es out of 3'our head to know.
At those last words Charley sat bolt
upright, and, with a very wide-awake
and puzzled look, asked,
' What do you mean ?'
'Oh, nothing.'
'But you do mean something. Tell
os the yarn, whatever it is.'
'Oh, but 3'ou wouldn't be an atten
tive listener!' answered Bilge, with
quiet irony. 'Besides, 3'ou might ar
heard it a dozen times afore.'
'Yes ; but I thought you meant one
of the old stories about phantom
ships, or pirates, or ghosts, or that
sort of thing,' returned Charley.
'Well, perhaps that Is what I do
mean,' said Bilge, calmly puffing
away in tantalizing enjoyment of his
companion's curiosity.
'Oh, no, you do not." said Charleys
decidedl3'. 'What is it you have to
tell me?'
Bilgo paused for a moment, drew
his pipe out of his mouth, puffed out
a cloud of smoke, and then said, qui-
'The story of a murder! That Is
what I was going to tell.'
'The story of a murder!1 echoed
the j'outli, In a tone of disappoint
ment. 'I thought It was something
that "Well, I mean something that
I was Interested In.'
'Well, mo3t people feel interested In
murders, whether they concern 'em
or not. However, as you don't seem
jjlo care about it, I'll get back home
2T, 1876.
with m3' eels; so I wish you good
morning.'
And Bilge rose to his feet, and made
a pretence of shouldering his basket-
'Stay !' cried Charley, springing up.
'I do care about it. Sit down again,
and do not be bo touchy.'
It waa only, howover, after a con
siderable deal of persuasion, that
Bilge consented to sit down, averring
that his companion was too learned
to care for his 'jaw.'
When he did give way at last he
seemed in no hurry to Batisfy the cu
liosity he had aroused. He took the
longest possible time refilling his'
pipe, lighting it, and comfortably
composing himself.
Stretched upon the sand3, reclining
upon his elbow, his face resting in the
palm of his hand, and his eyes fixed,
attentively watching the weather
beaten' face of the flshorman,Charle3T
waited patiently for the promised
narrative. Every word, every Inci
dent, every aspect of nature in that
hour was thereafter Indelibly imprint
ed upon his memor3'.
It was a hot, hazy da3; a sluggish
mist floated in the air, hanging like a
gray veil over the sand-hills, hiding
the sea behind it a little distanco from
the shore. Through Its folds the sun
loomed beamless, like a read-hot ball.
Nature was faint and voiceless; the
very waves broke languidly and list
lessly upon the sands, aa though en
ervated beneath the influence of the
depressing vapor.
And here Is the story that the 3Touth
listened to with breathless Interest,
that momentarily increased, as the
strange narrative was unfolded.
THE FISHERMAN'S STORY.
About twenty years before the open
ing of our tale died Squire Blakely,
cf Blakely Hall ; a fine old family
mansion, situatod some twent3' miles
distanco from Sandybank. The
Blakelj'8 bad been for upwards of two
hundred 3'ears, by their wealth and
position, among the most influential
of the country gentry. They had
been a bluff", fox-hunting, hard-drinking
race more or less of the Squire
Western t3'po. Of such a cast was tho
one whose demise we have recorded.
Robert Blakely, the heir, and his
father had been upon 111 terms several
3'eara previous to the latter's death, in
consequence of certain follies and ex
travagances committed by the young
man, and more especially on account
of what is st3TIed an imprudent match
that he bad made with a young girl
with whom he had been desperately
enamoured.
Frgrn-the day of their union tho old
Squire swore that he would never
again speak to his son aud he never
did ; and bad not the estate been en
tailed, he would have disinherited
him. The old man's death was a sud
den one ; he was thrown from his
horse during a hunt, and killed upon
the spot. Robert, who was living in
London upon a seant3T annuity which
he had Inherited from his mother,
was at onco communicated with, in
order that he might take possession
of his rights.
Robert Blakely had olwa3s been a
great favorite among the tenant
aud dependants, and was known as a
frank, generous, but excessively hot
tempered 3'oung man. Great was the
curiosity respecting the Squire's lady,
about whom there had been so great a
to do; and from the old man's strong
dislike to tho match, and the coarse,
pa3ionato remarks ho had let drop
upon the subject, the general impres
sion was that the future mistress of
the Hall would prove to be a low
bred, although a. pretty, woman,
scarce superior to her own servants
In refinement. Great was the sur
prise of these expectants upon discov
ering Mrs. Robert Blakely to be a
beautiful, interesting woman, whose
tone and manner might have been
thoso of any lady in the land. She
was u blonde-, with the fairest of fair
hair, and the lightest of blue eyes; a
fragile, delicate creature, quite unfit
ted for the rude buffets of the world.
She loved her husband passionately,
adoringly; and that he loved her he
had sufficiently proved by the sacrifi
ces he had mado in marrying her.
They had been married three 3Tear3
when he succeeded to tho estate; one
child had been born to them, a girl,
who had died in Its infancy. But
soon after her arrival at the Hall she
again became encicnte.
As though to make up for past pri
vations, Robert Blakely plunged into
the most profuse hospitality and gal
et3', and Blakelj' Hall was always full
of company. First and foremost,
there was Mrs. Blakely'a 6lster, to
whom he had given a generoa3 and
unlimited Invitation. Tho two sis
ters were In every respect the oppo
site to each other. Helen was as
dark as Edith was fair, as high spir
ited and haughty as tho other was
meek and gentle; neither did there
appear to exist between them an3
strong affection. There was no oold
ness, no visible disagreement they
alwaj-s appeared to be the best of
friends; but there seemed to be a
shadow between them o something
that waa felt rather than perceived.
Among the guests who might be
regarded as almost stationary Inhab
itants of the Hall was a young gen
tleman named Ernest Wleland-. Al
though a German by birth, he had
been brought up from childhood in
France, but, becoming mixed up in
some conspiracy against the French
Government, had been obliged to
take refuge in England.
He was a man of strange, wild
ideas, a passionate temperament, over
flowing with Utopian theories, with
VOL. 21. JSO. 5,
political enthusiasm, with poetry aud
metaphysics. A pale, handsome man,
of about five and twenty, with a won
derfully fascinating manuer. He had
lived in the same house, and been a
a friend of the Blakelys, before their
accession to wealth. In this case the
friendship seemed rather to be upon
the ladies', Edith and Helen's, side
rather than upon Robert's. The lat
ter had too much of the old Blakely
bull-dog blood In him to relish greatly
the eccentric foreigner. Helen par
ticularly affected his Booiet3. They
read Schiller and Goethe together,
and Shakspere and Byron, for Wle
land waa an excellent English sohol
ar, as well as French and German.
The3' played the piano nud sang to
gether; they rodo out on horseback
together, and they took moonlight
rambles together. Scandal, however,
whispered that hia feelings towards
Mrs. Blakely were of a much warmor
nature than those he entertained for
her6ister; but scandal could not de
tect the least lmpropriet, could not
gather up the least scrap of food from
the behavior of eithor. If any such
passion existed, Edith appeared to bo
unconscious of its existence while Wie
land never manifested towards her
anything but tho most profound re
spect. B3'-and-by, however, it waB re
marked that the Squiro looked askant
upon his guests, that his manner to
wards him was cold and distant.
About this time tho shadow between
the two sisters began to darken. Hel
en grew gloomy, and sho and Wleland
were seldom together. In tho mean
time, a son and heir had been born.
But we are anticipating events, and
must go back to introduce a third
character of tho drama.
At the houso of a neighboring
gentleman, the Blakelys had been in
troduced to n Mrs. Greenava3 a
3'oung widow of some five and twen
ty 'ears of age, the relict of a London
merchant. She was a fascinating,
brilliant woman of tho world, who
set all the young men, and many of
tho old ones, of the neighbourhood
raving about her. She was not a fa
vorite with the ladies, who described
her as coarse, ill-bred' forward, and
designing; but then ladies aro alwa3s
harsh critics of each other. Robert
Blakely was much taken with her,
and invited her to spend a few weeks
at the Hall. She accepted tho invita
tion ; and in a short time it was evi
dent to all that the young Squire was
added to the enslaved. She became
his confidant and adviser; and, at
last, he transacted no business with
olit first consulting her.
All this began a little previous to
Edith's confinement, when the deli
cate stato of her health obliged her to
frequently keep her room ; then came
her Illness and convalescence; thus
she had but few opportunities of ob
servation. Edith wa3 one of those
quiet, passive natures in which it is
possible for love to exist without jeal
ousy, and absorbed in her new treas
ure her baby she had neither 030?,
ears, nor thoughts for an3'thing else.
Tho reader ma3 feel surprised that no
kind female friend endeavored to
dispel this infatuated moral blindness;
perhaps some one did but with this
the narrative has nothing to do. It
onl3' pretends to give a bare statement
of facts as the3' were generally known
Such was the precise position of af
fairs when a grand ball was given at
the house of one of the neighboring
gentry, situated about seven miles
from the Hall, to which every person
of importance for many miles round,
was invited. Of course the BIakel3's
were invited, and of course Mrs.
Greenaway waa included in the Invi
tation ; and as rumor gave Wieland
to Miss Helen Deerbrook aa o lover,
the same courtesy was extended to
him.
On tho morning of the ball Edith
was taken ill 30 III, that all idea of
leaving her room that day had to be
abandoned. Robert proposed that the
party should be broken up, and that
messages of apology should at once be
sent to excuse their absence. But of
this she would not hear. Then Helen
wished to remain at home with her;
but both theso propositions she com
batted with a warmth and persistency
quite unusual to her customary 3ield
ing meekness. At 6ight o'clock in
the evening, Robert Blakel3 and Mrs.
Greenaway departed in ono carriage,
Wieland and Helen Deerbrook In an
other, and no one was left in the houee
save tho lady of it and the dometics.
At one o'clock next morning Edith
Blakely teas found strangled in her own
bed, and her infant child had disap
peared. TO BE CONTiytTED.
Aa some lady visitors were recently
going through a penitentiary, under
the escort of the superintendent, they
came to a room in which three wom
en were sewing. 'Dear me!' ono of
the visitors whispered, 'what vicious
lookin'gcreatures! Pray, whatare they
hero for?' 'Because they have no oth
er home. This is our sitting-room,
and they are ray wife ond two daugh
ters,' blandly answered the" superin
tendent. A man from Placerville, California,
when asked by a Saratoga waiter
what he would have for breakfast, re
plied : 'Well, I rather guess I'll just
flop my lip over a chicken .-
A-shrewd old Yankee said he didn't
believe there waa any downright cure
for laziness In a man. 'But" he add
ed, 'I've known n second wife to hur
ry it some.'
THE ADVERTISER'
o.w.KAniBHOTKiw. t.chackSkb.
FAIRBROTHER &. HACKER-,-
Publishers . Proprietors:
ADVERTISING KATE?.
Onelnch.OHC ypnr- ,, ...
Two Inches, oho year ,-
. IS '
. 5 w
Each succeeding Inch, pr year-
Xegal advertisements at legal ratas-Ofiesnnare'.-
(18 lines of Nonpareil, or lt) first Insertion, J1.00'
each subsequent insertion, Wc.
eS" All transient advertisements znnet be pald:
forln advance.
OFFICIAL PAPER OF THE COUNTY-
Political.
We congratulate the Hon. John'
Morrissey! Now la tho timo for tho'
Hon. John to take possession of Tarn-"
many and lead the reform movement.
We congratulate the Hon. William.
Allen! He can enjoy the repose so
richly earned In a long and useful life,
and tell stories about his emoking
corn-cob pipes with Andrew Jackson.
JS Y. Herald.
Tho nomination of Hendricks fixea
the character of the convention. The'
declaration for on unconditional re
peal of tho resumption clause of the
aot of 1S75 was a bid for tho votes of
the Inflationists; the nomination of
Hendricks was a still higher bid. Tho
inflationists havo been rejected by the
Republicans. Thoyhave got, substan-"
tially, all they asked for in thoDemo
cratio platform, and their most con
splououa leader has been placed ou
that platform to give it emphasis. If
tho inflationists wero to bolt they
would only help elect that of tho Re
publicans. If they accept tho sur
render mado to them, they will re
main the real masters of their party,
ablo to dictato terms to its leaders.
iV. Y. Urnes.
The Democrats open tho campaign1
suspiciously. With acandldate nom
inated to attract tho vote of New
York, the3' have associated with him
a candidate for vlco president admi
rably adapted to repel tho vote of tho
State. The3' ask tho hard monoy
men to look at Tilden and tho hard
money phaso in tho platform; they
ask tho soft money men to look at
Hendricks and tho unconditional,
unlimited postponement of resump-
tion. Tho soft money men may ig
nore the hard money phase and Til
den'tf professions, becauso thoy know
that theso amount to nothing. But
tho hard money men will not shut
their e3'es to Hendricks and repudla-"
tion. Ar. 1'. IHmes.
Tildeu Is reported as saying that ho
can carry Nexv York by fifty thou
sand. Wo havo no doubt tho Gover
nor thinks bo. Ho is in the honey
moon of tho nomination nuptials,
and must be allowed tho illusions
natural to that condition. But New'
York is a peculiar State. When Til
den carried It the Republicans woro
divided and the Democrats wero
united. Now the Republicans aro
united ond tho Democrats divided."
JV". Y. Herald.
Hayes' Personal Appearance
General Hayes Is above tho medium
height, of commanding presence,
courtly manners, and excels aa a con-
versationalist. Hia head and face aro
good, the former high und expansive;
tho latter well filled out by an amplo
light brown beard. His eyes are blue,
and indicates that helms studied long-'
and hard. Visitors are particularly
struck with his voice, Its fiber aud re
sonance, aud it is said thHt no buglo'
blast could thrill the soldiers' souls
like tho ringing tones 0 Hayes' voice
sweeping along the lines. Hisappoar-"
anceis stalwart, and betokens more of
a couritry than a metropolitan life.
Ho has always been a universal favor-'
ite in Cincinnati, and trusted with ab
solute confidence by over3body that
knew him. He has the reputation of
being exceedingly firm, and holding,
to his opinions with tenacitj-, but thero'
la nothing pugnacious about him,
and thoso who know him intimatoiy
love him. To use a praotical illustra-'
tion, he is the kind of man you would'
like to put both your wife aud pocket
book in charge of to travel across tho'
continent, if you could not go jour-'
aelf. Boston Jonrnal.
The Catholic World declares thai1
that the Catholics of America ero'
Ultramontane to a man, and it adds:'
Probabty there are no Catholics in any "
country of the world leas disposed
to compromise in mattera of religious
duty, and moro thoroughly imbued' -
with filial reverence end love on
earth, than the Catholics of the
United States. Tho spirit of tho
Church of Rome is the spirit of the'
Church in America.' Show us what
Rome teaches, and then you havo'
precise!' wjjat the Church in tho
United States accepts. If it la true,
therefore, that tho Pope clalma auth
ority to set asido the governments'
which ho deems disloyal, r.nd to,
annul such institutions as he does no
approve, it must bo true that America
(Roman Catholics in America) up
holds his pretensions."
Our teutonic friend, Johannes K
entered one of our drug stores, and
thus addressed one of the elerks:
Tootor, I feel sig all ofer, und de'"
beeblea tells me I better tako one fis-'
sick.'
All right, sir,' Bays the clerk. 'Will
3ou have a dose of salts or some pur--'
gativo pills?'
'Veil, vot it cost for dem saalds?'
'Ten cents, sir.'
'Und how much for dem fissickingf
pills?'"
'I'll give you ndose at tho same"
price.'
After 0 vain search in his pocket for
the required sum, he asked :
'Tootor, you dond got some second
hand fissicking pills, aJn'tyou ?
. ?-
Teleraphers are guilty of sad blun
ders sometimes. The Prince of Wak:
telegraphed from India for 'Five Mil
nera' Milner being a great safe man
ufacturer 'three with drawers amst"
two without.' The message renahed
London ; 'Five mllllnere, three wifch"
j drawers, two withuimX
;t
