The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, June 23, 1875, Image 1
y- ? - - - -- ' ' = ? " ? ' ' i
BY ? A,il? AND HUGH WILSON. ABBEVILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, JUNE 23, 1875. " VOLUME IIIII-NO 11.';%!
CONGAREE
s 'o:
nnn,
Proprietor.
" Manufacturer of Steam Engines
and Boilers.
Iron and Brass Castings of all
Descriptions made to Order.
T was awarded the first premium
X on castings at the State Agrir.ul
tural and Mechanical Society Fairs,
held in Columbia, November, 1S71,
'72, '73.
MANUFACTURE
Cricular Saw Mills of all sizes.
ALSO
'PrtrtL- tKrt Pi??at. Pt'cminm at State
Fairs held November, 1871, '72, '73
Manufacturer of
Grist Mills Irons of all sizes.
For Sale.
Oin Gearing of the following sizes.
9 feet wheel and pinion $30 00
>" 30 14 4 4 4 4 44 82 50
11 " 44 44 44 35 00
32 41 44 44 44 45 00
34 44 44 44 44 50 00
"With Bolts $6.50 Extra for each set.
Anti-friction plates and Balls for Cotton
Press $10.00 and $12.00 per set.
D. B. SMITH, Agent,
Abbeville S. C.
Dee. 10,1873, 35-tf
I
I New Store!
NEW GOODS!!
THE undersigned have just opne*
an entire new stock of
II GROCERIES,
Provision and Liquors, j
" ^ ' * . ? ,
I As well as utner iiooas id : >
their Line.
At the Old Stand of A. M. HILL, re- ]
cently TROWBRIDGE & CO., when?;,
we will be pleased to serve the public |
CHEAP FOll CASH. \
I A. M. HILL. |
Jan. 20, 187-3, 42-tt i
C. WEST & S0NSr^ i
ALADDIN sOILTY;
THE BEST OIL IN USE. ,
WARRANTED 150 DEGREES FIRE TE.-T. I
Water white ill color. Fully deoderized. (
And it will not explode.
S burns in all Coal Oil and Kerosene
imps. TRY IT. Ask for "Aladdin 1
Security," and take no other. J
C. WEST & SONS.
3 and 115 "\V. Lombard St., Bait. Md.
Nov. 7, 1874 c0-6m |
iTbnorrell, i
Harness and Saddle Maker, ?
L T his Old Stand over Parker & Per- !
rln's Drug Store, has a supply of j
srthern HARNESS LEATHER, (
d other material for Making and Re- (
iring Saddles and Harness. <
Dec. 2,1874, 34, tf ,
RESH COUNRY MEAL,
, $1.40 per bushel, received every
5ek, by
i a m i i
Uunningnam & xempieton.
||Nov. 11 31-tf
ESTATE OF <
JAS. C. RAY, dec'd. j
: - j
ALL persons indebted to James C. i
Ray at the time of his death t
ure requested to make payment to us, 1
and thoso having demands against
him to render them in properly veri- ,
fed to us.
WILLI Ail ANDERSON,
ANDREW ANDERSON,
'
Executors.
Abbeville, March 13, 1875, 49-6m
C. E. BRUCE.
Boot and Shoe Maker,
I Over Parker & Perm's Store.
H .Abbeville, S. C. (
aBTkESIRES to say that he is fully preaB
V pared to meet all demands the I
gMpublic may make in his line, lie keeps '
jjMconstantly on hand a large lot of the
IHbest material and employs only the finest
iKjrorkmen. He keeps a full stock of
IHftustom-made Boots and Shoes, and
[ guarantees the most entire satisfaction (
Kaffiri every instance.
gjf Sept. 1,1874, 21-tf 5
ai*lr ^Vift ftf A/ auk 11 ft_
tu.c*x XV bUV \J I Ui A UUX X/ V/
ceased Friends.
Marble "WorksA
- FULL line of stock on band and |
3L work sold at the lowest price,
nd work done in the best workman-like
aanner. Several hundred new and
andsome designs on hand to make
Blectionsfrom. We will duplicate city
;rice in all monumental work, by which i
rtie s can save freight.
Very respectfully, ]
J. B. CH4AMEBS. ;
1 1874X3.tr
STEAM
j Columbia, S. C.
P. W. WING
[Proprietor.
nr X -VTTTTT A r"TTTT>VT? f)17
iU.'Xil V; i 4-X V 1 U AWiJAV v*
Sash, Blinds, Doors
WINDOW
AND DOOR FRAMES,
Inside Pivot Blinds anil Staller:
COLUMNS,
Pilasters,
MANTEL PIFflES.
ITAiAAIAMM A AH VMMJ
Mouldings, Brackets
Hand-Rails,
NEWELS, BALUSTRES,
Scroll Wort o?__all Descriplira
All Work Guaranteed A No. 1,
May 28/1874, 7-ly.
J. D. CHALMERS & CO.
DEALERS IX
Chairs, Parlor Slits, dataller Suits,
Walnut & Mahogany Bareaus,
Wpshstands, Tables, Bedsteads,
Window Shades, &c. Looking
Glasses, Oil Chrotnos, &c.
Abbeville, S. C.
Also agents for the sale of the celebrated
Philadelphia Improved Rusic
Window Shade, which for dura
aility, cheapness, convenience and
jeauty, cannot be surpassed. Each
shade is furnished with all the fixtures
complete, and only requires two
ath nails or small screws to fasten it
jp with. Should they become soiled
)y flics, they can be spread on a tabic,
ivashed and made as bright as new,
md wiU last for years. This style of
shade is much superior to cloth
shades. In warm weather, when the
window is raised, the shade admits
.he air but prevents flies and mosqui,oes
entering the room. The simplicty
of their tixturcs is much in their
avor, as the}* require no rollers, each
shade being complete, and any one
an drive two nails by which to hang
-hem. They are low in price, durajIc,
convenient, and never get out ol
jrder. Call at store and sec samples.
Nov. 18, 1874 32-tf
nPMWTOWDV I imTOlKWDV I I
JMUioim : iiuiuiuiiii : :
Dr. H. D. WILSON
OFFERS his professional services to
the people of Abbeville County
uul of upper South Carolina. Having
ust finished a course of study in the
Pennsylvania College of Dental Surgery,
he feels fully competent to attend
:o all cases requiring the exe;-cise oj
skilled Dental Surgery that may be
wrought to him. He asks the patronage
)f the people, and guarantees full and
;omplete satisfaction. He has procured
i full set of first-class Dental Iustrunents,
and is prepared to do first-class
,vork at most reasonable rates.
fiST OFFICE jnst over Post Office.
kl. GOLDSMITH. V. KIND.
Groldsmitli & "Kind,
FOUNDERS & MACHINISTS,
fPHfRXTY TRON* WORKS.
COLUMBIA, S. C,
M/JANTJFACTURERS of Steam EnLtJl
ginesof all sizes; Horsepowers,
Circular and Muley Saw Mills, Grist
md Sugar Cane Mills, Flour Mills, Orlaraental,
House and Btore Fronts, Iron
[tailings, Agricultural Implements, etc.
Brass and Iron Castings of all kinds
nade to order on short notice, and on
he most reasonable terms. Also, nianjfaeturers
of Cotton Presses.
May 28,1873, 7-12m
THOMAS' SAW MILL
IS
Closed for Repairs.
PARTIES who have contractcd
for LUMBER will call on ALLEN
McCANTY at Mr. Edwards.
I have some lumber on hand which
will be disposed of for the cash.
J. W. THOMAS.
March 24, 1S75, 50-tf
DR. JOHN S. THOMPSON,
DENTIST,
OFFERS his professional services t<
the citizens of Abbeville, and th?
surrounding country.
Office over Citizens' Savings
Bank, Abbeville, S. C.
Oct. 2, 1873,28tf
CUHHIN&HAM & TEMPLEM
Ilavo just ojieDed a nice line of
SEGARS,
from $3 to per box; a good Segai
at 5 cents. Give them a call.
For. 11 31-tf
* ? 111 1
" "~f~ * *. \ " # 1
Malcolm, the Avenger;
" jtv ??. ' i 'x^t*
OB,
TES MYSTEEIOTJS MUSDEB,
2* -s- *"
BY HABBISON AINSWORTH.
* ACTDOB OF "Toweh HILL," "IUfflsd AT
JUST. "A TALK OP MYSIKRIV > '' VJX. .
STC., sic.
? V
CHAPTER XI.
VIOLET'S PERPLEXITIES INCRB^gl.
| It is not easy to portray Violet Lindsly's
conflicting emotions when she found herself
alone with Vernon Aubrey. At one moment,
the deep affection she had long felt for him
Eredominated, and she was ready to yield
erself to his embrace, and forget everything
but their mutual love. But this tenderness
vanished before the recollection of the deed
laid to his charge; and hurriedly disengaging
herself, she tried to control her voice,
j and speak to him with composure.
" Mr. Aubrey, your presence in the garden
at such an hour has naturally startled
me. Does Mr. Derwent know you are here,
or shall I call a servant to acquaint him
with your visit ?"
" It is to you I come," he answered. "It
is to see you that I have been loitering
about here these two days."
j! " You wished to sec me, and yet loitered
about, instead of coming to the house -is you
have been accustomed to do ?" faltered
Violet, failed with a sudden conviction
that he had sought her presence to make a
confession of his guilt.
" Yes," he answered; " I was anxious to
f see you alone, or I would not have risked
alarming you, as I did just now."
Violet felt as if she should fall if she did
not cling to something for support; but,
summoning her little remaining strength,
she said, " You did, indeed, alarm me. I
' must go in-doors."
" Not till you have heard what I am here
to say. I entreat you to stay, for my tale
is for your ears alone. I have been silent
so long because I would not distress you;
J but I can be silent no longer."
"Some other time," she murmured, faintly?"some
other time. I have not courage
to hear it now."
" Then you guess its nature ? You
guess that it is connected with the fatal
, event that occurred here not long ago ?" he
I caul in Rurmresserl trtnes.
" Alas ! yes," Violet whispered; "I guess
but too well what you would tell me. But
I could not bear to listen to the harrowing
details. Have I not to endure my own
miserable consciousness of having been in
some measure the cause of that dreadful
deed 7"
" You, Violet? No, no! It is no fault of
yours that the love you inspired was inin.
gled with the baser passions of revenge and
i avarice!"
"Speak of it no more," she answered
" I cannot forget that the weak, childish
manner in which I have acted, provoked
the passions you name. Go, Mr. Aubrey.
It doe3 but increase our pain to dwell on
this. Go; take with you the prayers and
good wishes of Violet Lindsly; and do not,
for pity's sake, attempt to see me again!"
" I cannot obey you till you have heard
what I am here to say," he exclaimed,
emphatically, "Yes, Violet, you must listen,
for your own happiness is deeply concerned
in it."
She had been on the point of leaving
him, but now she paused. He waa evidently
desirious of exculpating himself as far as laid
in his power. Yet, of what use was this P
Nothing would wash away the broad stain
of guilt that had spread itself between
them. She could, she did, pity?yes, and
nhe lrtvftrl him still ? hut with thfifift feelincrn
mingled a horror of his crime that she
could never, never overcome.
"My happiness has fled, never to return V
she cried, sorrowfully. "Why allude to it?
I would much rather not hear you. I do
not say this unkindly, but in the conviction
that it is useless to recur to what has happened.
Besides it is late; I shall he missedj
and sought after, if I do not hasten in."
He seized both her hands and pressed
them warmly, although, with a little shiver,
she shrank from him, and strove to disengage
herself. Still he persisted, and, at
the same time, exclaimed, " Do not go back
to that ill-omened house any more. Fly
its precincts at once and forever. Let the
evil wrought within it be forgotten in
visions of a fairer future. Nay, do not
shrink from me, but let this arm be your
protection now and always!"
Before the startled girl could reply, she
was suddenly lifted aside, and Mr. Derwent
stood between her and Vernon Aubrey.
"Miss Lindsly, as your guardian, I have
a right to demand whether you are here
for the purpose ol meeting this young
man ?"
" No, no, it was a chance?an accident,"
she protested, as she clung to him. " I did
not dream that he was near !"
"Then it is from you, Mr. Aubrey, that I
must demand an explanation. How is it I
find you prowling in my grounds at night,
and inducing my ward to commit the
imprudence of lingering here to listen to
y?u ?"
As he asked this, he drew Violet's arm
through his own to lead her in-doors.
"I am here, Mr. Derwent," said Vernon
Aubrey, in tones as stern as his own, "to
see and speak with Miss Lindsly on a matter
of grave importance to her, as well as
to myself. Why I did not sock her at your
bouse you well know; admittance there has
been denied me."
"Tt is very possible,1' Mr. Derwent carelessly
replied, "for Miss Lindsly's health
and nerves have been in such a delicate
state lately, that I have used my own discretion
as to the visitors she should receive.
If you called upon a day that I
knew her to be more indisposed than usual,
no doubt you were amongst those to whom
she was denied. Nor do I think Miss
Lindsly will blame me for this. She has
been more anxious to avoid than to meet
you, Mr. Aubrey. Am I not right, my
dear Violet?
She faltered an assent, although she
could not help w ishing that Mr. Derwent
had not spoken so harshly.
"Miss Lindsly is quite well enough to
eee me now?I suppose you will admit
that?" retorted Verno^Aubrey; and I
claim from her lon<?-standin<r friendship an |
audience of only half an hour."
"To-night, Mr. Aubrey?and here?and
alone?" queried Violet's guardian, sarcastically.
"Do you suppose me so wanting
in my duty, or Miss Lindsly so l>lind to
decorum, as to grant your extraordinary
request ?"
Vernon Aubrey was reluctantly compelled
to admit that Mr. Derwent had reason
on his side in saying this. And yet he
was loth to renounce the purpose that had
kept him wandering around Derwent Lodge
for days. To see Violet alone, to reveal to
her what he had never breathed to any
other, was his settled resolution, but how
to achieve this he knew not.
"If I relinquish my wish to speak with
Miss Lindsly now," he said to Mr. Derwent,
?._:n ?.. *1?4. t
win jvju };ivc 111c tyuui huiu tuau x oiiivn
see her in the morning ?
"My dear 6ir,". was the reply, "you talk
1 as if Miss Lindsly were a prisoner, and I
her jailor ! If she thinks proper to re}
ceive yon to-morrow, at a reasonable hour,
, what possible objection can I have to her
doing so P"
Vernon Aubrey turned to Violet, who,
j trembling and irresolute, was leaning on
her guardian's arm.
"You hear what Mr. Derwent says; you
are a free agent. Consent, then, I entreat
you, to grant me the audience I crave."
I "Why do you urge this ?" she hesitatj
ingly asked. "Upon the sad subject to
which you have already alluded, I have
told you that I had rather, much rather not
hear you."
"But if you'knew "Vernon began.
Mr. Derwent, however, interrupted him
1 sharply. "It is enough; Miss JLindsly has
decidedly declared her unwillingness to
listen to you, and she shall not be forced
into doing anything that is repugnant to
fcer_?eeligga."
"Mr. IFerwcnt," cried Aubrey, passionately,
"you are artfully interfering to prevent
the interview I seek."
"Hush, sir! you grow rude I" was the
'dignified response. "I have treated you
with much more forbearance than your conduct
merits. Violet, my love, you must
really lot me conduct you into the house."
She submitted directly, but turned
towards Vernon Aubrey, as he led her
away. "I am sorry, very sorry; but Mr.
Denvent. is right, and you are unkind to
nrge me to hear what can only revive
thoughts I would fain forget. Leave England,
Mr. Aubrey, and try in some foreign
country to forget me, and atone for the sin
into which my folly as much as your
own angry feelings hastened you."
A3 Violet sobbed out these words, she let
her head droop on Mr. Derwent's shoulder,
and lifting her light form in his arms, he
i i i i J
Dure nur ia-uour?, iinu tuiiueny ia.iu iter uu
the sofa in her own dressing-room. Nor
did he leave her until the attentions of
Millicent Vyner had subdued the hysterical
attack which seized her. To see her
suffering was torture to this grave, middleaged
man, for he loved her with an intensity
of affection approaching idolatry. His
marriage with the mother of Sybil had
been purely one of interest, and it had
remained for Violet Lindsly to awaken in
his heart the tender passion which hod
hitherto lain dormant.
At his urgent request, she permitted
him to make her excuses to their guests,
and went to bed. But sleep was not easily
wooed that night. She reproached herself
for having consulted propriety, instead of
granting at once the entreaty of Vernon
Aubrey, and hearing the confession he -was
bo anxious to make. Although nothing
could do away with the hideous fact of his
guilt, yet if it would have soothed a penitent
to tell her?the unfortunate cause of
all?how deeply he mourned his crime,?
surely she should have listened, instead of
selfishly refusing to hear him !
She expressed herself thus to Mr. Derwent
in the morning, when he came to inquire
how she had slept.
"My dear Violet." lie answered, "depend
upon it you have quite mistaken the purport
of Mr. Aubrey's proposed revelations.
v : iv.i i_ . i 1..1
iuu are assuming luiil ne acunowienges
himself to be the murderer of Robert Walters,
which he has not done, and never will
do. No proofs of such a crime have been
brought against hiin ; and it is only by a
few that suspicions of the truth are entertained.
He has legally, if not morally, a
right to be regarded as an innocent man,
and I feel convinced that you would not
have heard him make any acknowledgement
to the contrary if you had .stayed to
hear him last night."
"But he said that (he tale he had to tell
me was connected with the terrible event
that occurred within those wall* tVinoo ill.
omened walls, lie called them !"' she said,
with a shudder.
Mr. Dor went smiled, and then sighed.
"You dear, innocent child, cnn you not see
that others have net been Wind to the affection
T cherish for you. Nay, do not
blush nor withdraw your hand. I -would
not have vexed you by adverting to it if it
were not necessary. At the time of Mr.
Walters' death yon kept your room, and I,
in my overwhelming anxiety, betrayed to
Mr. Aubrey the feelings I had hitherto
concealed from every one. Mr. Aubrey,
impatient at your lingering here when you
should be under tlio roof of his scheming
kinsman, would like to whisper to you that
your foolish guardian has actually dared to
love you, and that his daughter connives at
his suit. He thinks the tale would so shock
and disgust you, that you would fly Derwent
Lodge directly."
"I will not see him," said Violet, resolutely.
"My maid shall tell him, if he
calls, that I decline to grant the interview
he requests. I am harrassed and unhappy
enough, and it would make me still more
bo if I were obliged to hear unjust charges
brought against the only friends I have in
the world."
"My dear," said Mr. Derwent, arresting
the hand she extended to the bell, "if
Mr. Aubrey is refused entrance, it will be
reported that it was by my orders. Remember
that he accused me of an artful
endeaTor to prevent his seeing you."
"But Millicent shall tell him that it is
at my command she denies him admission.
Do you hear, Millicent? If ever Mr. Vernon
Aubrey calls, and asks for me, your
answer is to be that I am engaged."
However, Aubrey did not make his appearance
at Derwent Lodge that day.
Soon after luncheon, as Violet was about
to follow the example of the silent, unsociable
Sybil, and retire to her own apartments,
a carriage drove up to the door.
It is he !" she exclaimed, with flushing
cheek and startled eye. "Oh, Mr. Derwent,
my heart misgives me ! Have I done right
in denying myself ?"
"It is too Lite to rescind mu uruur, uc
Baid, somewhat sharply, for it galled him
to find that she wavered between her conviction
of Aubrey's unworthines3 and her
affection for him.
Violet stood listening. "He has not
gone ? Perhaps he refuses to leave without
seeing me! Hark ! Millicent is coming
with a message."
As soon as the girl entered the room, she
snatched from her hand a card she was
holding. "It is not Mr. Aubrey at all! It
is Sir John Lefroye?must I see him ?"
"Certainly, my love. Let him be shown
up. I dare say he comes to exert his authority
over his refractory ward, and will
carry you away with him." Mr. Derwent's
face became ghastly pale, and hi3 lips quivered
at the thought. "Ah, Violet," he
added, mournfully, "he might have spared
you to us for one more short week?the
last happy week I can ever know !"
i/? a on/1 of/uvl fTiOrn
lit' WiblikUU IV lit wiuuwn, wuv? UWWV. vt?f*vy
until Miss Lindsly, almost aa much agitated
as himself, had welcomed her visitor.
Then, with his usual courtesy, Mr. Derwent
came forward, and greeted him too,
bidding a servant tell Sybil that her presence
was requested in the drawing-room.
"If Miss Dorwent is engaged, pray don't
disturb her," said the Baronet, frigidly.
"My visit is solely to my ward."
Violet bit her lip, and looked annoyed at
his rudeness; but Mr. Dei went blandly answered,
"Nay, I should be sorry for Sybil
to lose this chance of seeing an old friend
of her mother. She will not have another
opportunity of bidding you farewell."
"I was not aware that Miss Derwent is
thinking of quitting home," Sir John ob
J
serveu.
"My daughter and I leave England at the
close of next week," Mr. Derwent replied,
in saddened tones.
Sir John nnbent a little when he hoard
this. A hint that his co-trustee was tampering
with the affections of their pretty
ward had brought him to Norwood in hot
haste, to rescue her from her danger. But
Mr. Derwent's announcement partially disarmed
his wrath. If that gentleman had
really been seeking to win Violet's hand, it
must have been unsuccessfully, or he would
not speak so positively of leaving his native
country.
"The pleasantest time of the year for
? fho "Rnronpfc commented.
"Which way are you going?"
"I scarcely know. I shall leave that to
Sybil, and be guided by her wishes. All
places are alike to me now."
Sir John did not catch the last sentence,
which waa murmured in mournful accents.
But he bowed all the same, and turned to
Violet, whose eyes were filling with tears
at the sight of Mr. Derwent's profound dejection.
The Baronet saw something of her emotion,
and put on his spectacles to survey her
more carefully. "You've not looking very
well, ray dear, are you ?"
"Miss Lindsly generously grieves with
Sybil and lover our impending separation,"
said Mr. Derwent, when he found that Violet
did not reply.
"Ha I?humph ! She's just the age to
form romantic friendships," Baid Sir John,
a little pompously. "She must not be allowed
to give way to morbid sentimentality.
It's the bane of young people, and must be
discouraged."
How Violet liated him for this dogmatj
v, ' . Aiftflf- Hw .; ""if Itfaifriifli11 "< ' t \~rifr ii'Tt 'km
rt'-'
cal speech f 'But "Sybil's"entrance prevented
the pettish retort she vib meditating.
Sybil's quiet grace had made her rather
a favorite with Sir John; and he conversed
with her for a few minutes with more affability
than he had testified to her father.
But he soon referred to the purport of hia
visit.
"I have been telling Mu;9 Lindsly that
she is not looking welL', A few weeks by
the sea will do her good. Lady Lefroye
has written to engage apartments at a hotel
at St. Leonard's, and is only waiting for
Miss Lindsly to join her to fix the day for
taking possession of them."
Sybil cast an affectionate glance at her
"Sir TaIiti ic Vmlnf . rnn
look as if you required a change."
"Possibly I do," she replied, with quiet
decision. "And I shall he Tory happy to
accompany Lady Lefroye to a watering place,
but not till after next week."
Sir John frowned. "With the bast heart
in the world, he did not like to be thwarted,
and was quick to resent it "Thit week you
mean, my dear; Lady Lefroye will expect
you to return with me."
"I am sorry to disappoint her ladyship,
but I am not ready to go with you, Sir
John," said Violet, politely, but firmly. "I
told you so in the note I despatched to you
last evening."
"Ready ? Oh, I understand! Like p.11
other young ladies, yon have an immense
amount of packing to do. But Miss Derwent
will attend to that for you, I'm
sure."
"Sybil will have her own packing to do
if she is going abroad, and I prefer to attend
to my own," said Violet, still mow
nAPi f I tta! tt
yvoiuTcy*
"But you have a maid. I thought that
ladies kept maids to manage all these troo'
bleBome affairs for them," cried Sir John
vhr> vros as determined as his ward.
She -was silent: but her pouting lip evinced
that she was not subdued into yielding
her wishes to his.
"My dear," he paid, after a little paus?k
"Lady Lefroye's arrangements are all
made; her tradespeople paid; carpets taken
up; pictures covered; and servants put on
board wages. It will really inconvenience
her very much to stay in town for another
week."
1 11 i __ _ i . r _ xV _ -i
"1 snoum De Borry to De me cause 01
any inconvenience to Lo<ly Lefroye. Will
you tell her so, with my ccfhipliments, and
assurances that I will join her at St Leon!
ard's."
Sybil touched Violet's arm. "Why not
j accede to Sir John's request, and go at
once? Yonr maid and your trunks can
I follow; and the pain of parting will be as
j great if delayed for a few days as now."
Instead of replying to her friend's rej
monstrance, Violet turned to Sir John.
"Mr. Aubrey has been with you this morning,
has he not? It is something you heard
from hiui that has brought you here in such
haste ?"
The Baronet looked rather embarrassed,
but acknowledged that she hod guessed I
correctly. An angry flush overspread her
face. To know that her friends had been
maligned?that she was to be hurried from
Derwent Lodgefor fear Rhe should give her
hand to its owner?only made her more j
resolute to remain.
"You have heard, Sir John," she said, J
"how unselfishly Miss Derwent bids mo go;
and her father has already advised me to
obey you. But when my dear papa named
you as one of my guardians, he did not intend
you to treat me as if I were a child;
or force me to behave ungenerously to those
for whose kindness I can never be sufficiently
grateful."
Sir John drew himself up.
"I am not aware of having overstepped
the authority over you that the law and
Major Lindsly's will has given me."
"I do not intend that you shall do so,
sir!" she cried, with an imperious gesture.
"I have invited myself to remain at the
Lodge a little longer; and unless Mr. Derwent
absolutely turns me out from under
its hospitable roof, I mean to stay with Sybil
until the day I named in my letter for
joining Lady Lefroye."
Sir John looked very red, and somewhat
puzzled. He could not give her a hearty
shaking, as he felt very much inclined to
do; neither had he the tact to propose a
compromise, or even to retreat gracefully.
"Yon are a very obstinate and provoking |
young lady. I must have-a little talk to
you by yourself, if Mr. and Miss Derwent
will bo so obliging as to leave us."
But Violet?who was secretly half afraid
of him, and she knew that she should not
have the courage to persevere if he became
very peremptory?refused to lot Sybil quit
the room."
" I don't want to bo argued with. I dare
pay I am very obstinate, as you have just
called me. But my wish is such a simple
one, that I think it ought to be granted
without all this fuss. "When Sybil leaves
England, I will go to St. Leonard's. You
might be satisfied with this, Sir John."
Sir John began to draw on his glove,
slowly and methodically. This gave him
time for consideration. Mr. Derwent, who
had again retreated to the window, had not
spoken or moved during this discussion, although
his coimressed lips and restless eyes
evinced the deep .nterest he was taking in it.
A bright thought had flashed into the
Baronet's mind; and rising, he confronted
his fellow-guardian.
" As it appears to be of no use talking to
Tirinn TItwIoItt T miiet. VinvA a few words
ALLiOD * *w?uv . - ?
with you, Mr. Derwent. I am anxious to
remove our ward from your house, principally
because a rumor has got abroad that
you?I beg your pardon for my plain speaking,
but this young lady's obstinacy compels
me to it."
"Pray proceed, Sir John. I can bear with
any amount of candor," said Mr. Derwent,
smiling slightly, aftd lifting his eyebrows
as he looked across to Violet.
""Well, sir, it is rumored that you are
trying to inveigle Miss Lindsly into an unequal
and disgraceful marriage. 5jTow you
know this, I'm sure you will concur with me
in saying that she ought to be placed under
the care of Lady Lefroye immediately. That
step, and that alone, will effectually silence
such retorts."
" But*, on the other hand, my dear Sir
John," said Mr. Derwent, very politely, "it
is rumored that your eagerness to get Miss
Lindsly into your hands arises from a scheme
to unite her to a kinsman, whose circumstances
and fame would reap great advantage
from it,"
The Baronet was now purple with anger.
"Are you trying to insult me, sir, that
you say this ?"
"Be tranquil, Sir John. Is it worse for
you to hear that you have turned matchmaker,
than for me to hear myself accused
of seeking Miss Lmdsly*8 hand from the
basest motives ?"
"But the one rumor is correct, sir, and
the other is not."
'Which is the correct one ? You will
Bay your's, and I might retort that it is
mine," Mr. Derwent replied, with the same
quiet good-humor he had testified all along.
"But tills is child's play, Sir John, and unworthy
both of us. You see, it is driving
Miss Lindsly from the room.''
He crossed to her, and took her hand.
Jon. om win /-initA rlnt.ormined no t
iUJf uw?ij W*v JW?
to accept the vacant seat in Sir John's
brougham this morning ?"
"Quite/' she said, firmly.
Mr. Derwent bowed to Sir John, with a
look that Beemed to imply, "You see she is
not to be persuaded, and that it is no fault
of mine if she continues obstinate." Then
he said to his ward, "No one must expect
me to blame you because you like Sybil and
I too well to be in a hurry to leave us.
But, at the same time, Sir John and Lady
Lefroye have really cause for complaint,
if your consideration for us keeps them in
town!"
"Of course, we have. Mr. Derwent
speaks very sensibly!" exclaimed the Baronet,
quite mollified to find his cause
espoused when he least expected it.
"Suppose, then," Mr. Derwent smilingly
continued,?"suppose you leave this wilful
I damsel to our management ? Sybil and I
i will pledge ourselves to bring her to you
to-morrow, or give a good reason for it.
| Will yon agree to this, Sir Joha? Will
vou,Miss Luidsly ?'
The Baronet 'assented with eagerness;
Violet, with reluctance. She could not,
however, raise any further objections, and
Sir John departed to take to his lady and
Vernon Aubrey a dire report of the atub?
born and wayward demeanor of the once
gentle girl whose guardianship he now regretted
to have accepted.
Mr. Derwent late in the evening came into
the drawing-room whore Violet sat, with
her work-box open before her, watching
Sybil, who was pacing up and down the
terrace beneath the windows.
" Quite alone ?" he asked, as he passed
beside her.
" Yes; Sybil appears to fancy that-violent
exercise will owe a headache ? which she
has been complaining; for, although she
pleaded that as an excuse tot neither talking
nor reading, she has walked to and fro
until I am tired of seeing net. I will gc
and toD her you have come "nonte. She
spoke as if she particularly wrttawi to speak
i to you."
"No," said Mr. Derwent, stopping her,
at el?.d of any chango, she was running
away. " Do not call her. She must reserve
what she has to say until morning. I am
too ill and unhappy to listen to her tonight."
With looks of the deepest concern, Violet
began to interrogate him, but he checked
her. "Ask me nothing now, love. To-morrow
I must have some conversation with you.
"Will you come to me in my study after
breakfast ?"
She readilyassented, and with a solemnity
that awed her, he added, "To-morrow,
Violet, you shall learn much, of which you
are now ignorant. To-morrow you must
make a decision on which not only the happiness,
but the honor of another dependsJ"
He left her, and when Sybil came in and
inquired for him, Violet heard a servant tell
her that his master, feeling very unwell,
had gone to bed.
Depressed by his manner, and Sybil's
, grave 1<> ks, Violet followed his example,
and wearv with the wakefulness of the pre
ceding night, she soon slept.
CHAPTER XII.
MILLICBNT VYNER AGAIN VISITS MALCOLM.
Some time previous to the death of Robert
Walters, his cousin had undertaken the arrangement
of a suit connected with a small
property Vernon Aubrey had inherited.
This he had now brought to a successful
close, and it was agreed that Vernon should
call upon him at his chambers, to receive
certain sums which had been paid into his
hands in connection with the affair.
It was on the evening of the day after
Sir John Lefroye's visit to Norwood that
this call was made. There was a little coolness
between the young men, who had
hitherto always met as friends, for Malcolm
had never been able to divest himself of the
idea that Aubrey had known all along more
than he had chosen to reveal; and Aubrey
was nettled by the conviction that Malcolm
j euspectcd him.
TVi rffliova their mnntiil mnLnjrassment.
they plunged into business details without
any delay; and were deeply engaged, when
Malcolm's clerk brought him word that
Millicent Vyner wish to see him.
He rose directly in such pertubation that
Vornon Aubrey?looking up as he started
from his chair?perceived it, and rose too.
" If some one is here whom you wish to
admit, pray don't let this business of mine
prevent it," he said. "I have something to
do for Sir John in Fleet Street, which I will
attend to, and come back here in an hour."
Malcolm was very much obliged to him,
and he said so. He felt sure that Millicent
Yyncr would not come to him unless she
had something important to communicate,
and he had chafed at the thought of letting
her depart with her errand untold.
As Vernon Aubrey quitted him, Millicent
was shown in. She was looking so pale and
worn, that he remarked it upon her with
regret.
" It is the natural result of much watching,
and many sleepless hours," she replied,
with a faint smile. " But I shall bo able
to rest when my task is ended, which it will
be sooner than I anticipated."
" So soon ! Have you, then, made any
discoveries already, or do you see the hopeness
of succeeding in your enterprise ?" inquired
Malcolm, eagerly.
"I cannot say positively that I have
made any discoveiies," she replied; " but I
believe that I am on the verge of doing so.
What I intended to convey was, that my
task must necessarily be brought to a close
in a few days, for Derwent Lodge is about
tViQTT mo/1 crm'nnp
W iuao (M3 1WIUWH.U , . -wrw tJ w~*fc)
abroad directly.
"What do you mean by Mey ? Sybil and
her father ?"
"And Miss Lindsly," Millicent added.
"And as I cannot leave my mother, even if
I would, I shall be obliged to throw up my
situation on the eve of their journey."
" Is this some sudden resolution on Mr.
Derwent's part f" asked Malcolm, after
cogitating awhile.
" I believe so." Millicent replied, "for it
took his daughter by surprise. She seems,
however, to be well pleased with his decision."
" You must be laboring under a mistake
when you 6ay that Miss Lindsly will be
their companion. Sir John Lefroye, who is
equally her guardian with Mr. Derwent, will
not permit her to leave England."
"But his authority over her ceases if she
marries, does it not ?"
"Yes. Major Lindsly was an advocate
for early marriage; and this induced him to
insert a clause in his will enabling his
aauguiei; iv wcu uciuic ouc tumco vi
providing her choice is sanctioned by one
or other of her guardians."
" Which it will be in this case, for Miss
Lindsly is about to unite herself to Mr.
Derwent," MiUiccnt observed.
Malcolm was greatly surprised by these
tidings.
" Are you sure?are you quite sure that
this is decided, or is it merely a rumor that
has reached your ears ?"
" My informant is Miss Lindsly herself.
She had a long interview tlii3 morning, by
appointment, with Mr. Derwent in his study.
I had no means of learning what passed between
them, but the young lady came back
to her room, looking as if she had received
some great shock. She has shed no tears,
and scarcely spoken, from which I augur
that she is too deeply moved to find consolation
in complaining; but she has bidden
me prepare for her a very simple bridal
dress, adding that it must be ready by the
day after to-morrow; and Mr. Derwent has
come to town and purchased a license."
' Can this be a marriage of affection ?"
asked Malcolm gravely.
" No, 6ir, it is not," answered Millicent;
"Miss Lindsly is no happy bride. Her
white, stricken face shocks and appalls me.
And I have come to you to entreat you to
interfere and prevent the sacrifice she is
about to make,"
" I! My dear Miss Vyner, on what plea
could I interfere ? Sir John Lefrove is the
only person who can do so."
" Miss Lindsly will not be guided by his
advice, for she distrusts its sincerity," Millicent
replied; " but you, the friend of her
father, she would hear with patience, and
respect your counsels."
Malcolm looked very serious, and took
time for consideration ere he replied: "I am
afraid I can see no grounds for the interference
you advocate. Mr. Derwent's age is
certainly double his ward's, but that is not
an insuperable objection; and if she thinks
proper to ignore it what can be said."
"Wrt+Viinrr if t.bi? wore all. But how if
Miss Lindsly's heart h;is been given to
another, whom she tries to forget, because
she has been taught to believe him the
murderer of Robert Walters ?"
"You are alluding to Mr. Aubrey. J have
always thought an attachment existed between
these young people. Why does not
Aubrey exonerate himself from this foul
stigma ?"
"He is not permitted to have the opportunity
of doing so. Whether Mr. Derwent
does or does not believe him guilty, he evidently
dreads his power over Miss Lindsly's
heart; and I know that the servants have
orders not to aatnit him to her presence on
any pretext whatever."
Ifec-,.-, .
Again Malcolm mused, ''It will be hard
Aubrey to lose the woman he leves
Airough an unmerited slander, and terrible
'or Miss Lindaly to unite herself to one
nan, while her affections are best-owed on
mother. My friendship for her father ceraiiily
demands from me that I should pre/ent
this if I can. But I do not know what
irguments I can use that are likely to prevail
with her."
"Make the attempt, Mr. Malcolm, I enhreat!"
cried Millicent, earnestly. " If yon
loujd Bee her as I have seen her to-day,'
itruggling to rudw^faetjielf. yet unable -to
jonquor thad^jadand repugnance whioo
ippresSes her, you would* not hesitate to
some to her assistance. ^Indeed,/bit, withill
the advantages her wealth gives her,
she is very friendless." ?
"She has Sybil besida. her," "6aid .Mr. ?"*
Malcolm. " When I 8aw her itt Norwood,
she spoke of Miss Derwent in high teona. \ I
But I forgot," he added, bitterly; "it !
marriage is intended to advance Mr.I)er- .
went's interests, his daughter will do the
beat to forward it."
" She has not done so yet. In fact she
V?n~or?1P o/\ mn/Vk in nv rtwT\ tnnmc.
11W1POU DV UiUV,U 1U vif*? .vv.Uv;
that she is ignorant of a great deal that is
passing round her. But I am outstaying
my time, and must hasten to make the purchases
which gave a pretext for coming to
town. If you will tell me what time you
will make your call upon Miss Lind*ly tomorrow,
I will be in the way, lest there
should be an attempt to deny you."
" If I come, I will be at Derwont Lodge
by eleven in the forenoon," Malcolm answered.
"If, sir," Millicent repeated, with a look
of disappointment. "Surely you will come ?"
" I must be guided by what I leam from
Mr. Aubrey, who wdl be with me in a few
minutes," was the decided reply. "If ho
satisfies me of his innocence of any connection
with my cousin's untimely death, I will
take upon myself to exculpate him, and
plead his cause to Miss Lindsly; but if he
cannot do this," Malcolm added, sternly;
"it is better that she should marry another,
and feel that it is her duty to forget him,
than cherish her regard for one whom she
nun nsirsr wfld."
TJie stop of Vernon Aubrey returning
was heard on the stairs, and Millicent roso
to depart. But she went away sorrowfully,
for she had hoped much from Charles Malcolm's.interference;
and if he refused it,
what would become of the miserable young
creature who, from some mysterious cause,
had consented to unite herself to her guardian?
To be continued.
ONE OF THE MYSTERIES OP MISSISSIPPI
RIVER NAVIGATION.
There used to b? an excellent pilot on
the river, aMr. X.,who was a somnambulist.
Itwas said that if his mind was troubled
about a bad piece of river he was pretty
sure to get up and walk in his sleep and
do strange things. He was once fellow
pilot for a trip or two with George E .
on a great New Orleans passenger packet*
Late one night the boat was approaching
Helena, Ark.; the water was low, and the
crossing above the town in a very bad condition.
X. had seen the crossing since E
had, and as the night was particularly
drizzly, sullen, and dark, E -was considering
whether he had not better have
X. called to assist in running the place,
when the door opened and X. walked in.
"Let me take her, Mr. E ; I've seen
this place since you have, and it is so
crooked that I reckon I can run it myself
easier than I could tell you how to do it."
"It is kind of you, and I swear I am
willing. I haven't got another drop of
prespiration left in mo. I have boon spinning
around and around the wheel like a
squirrel. It is so dark I can't tell which
way she is swinging till she is coming
around like a whirligig."
So E took a seat on tho bench, panting
and breathless. X assumed the
wheel without saying anything, steadied
the waltzing steamer with a turn or two,
and then Btood at ease, coaxing her a little
tn fliiIn oi'rln and f.ViPTi fn that, m pentlv and
08 sweetly as if the time had been noonday.
When E observed this marvel of steering,
he wished he had not confessed!
He stared and wondered, and finally
said:
"Well, I thought I knew how to steer a '
steamboat, but that was another mistake
of mine."
X said nothing, but went serenely on
with his work. He rang for leads; he
rang to slow down the steam ; he worked
the boat carefully and neatly into invisi- '
ble marks, then stood at the centre of the
wheel and peered out blandly into the
blackness, fore and aft, to verify his position
; as the leads shoaled more and more,
he stopped the engines entirely, and the
dead silence and suspense of "drifting"
followed; when the shoalest water was j
struck he cracked on the steam, carried ^
her handsomely over, and then began to
work her warily into the next system of j
oil/vi 1 mnrVq tViA 8.11110 natient. heedful ,
use of leads and engines followed] the
boat slipped through without touching bottom,
and entered upon the third and last
intricacy of the crossing; imperceptibly
she moved through the gloom, crept by
inches into her marks, drifted tediously till
the shoalost water was cried, and then under
a tremendous head of steam, went
swinging over the reef and away into deep
water and safety!
E let his long pent breath pour out
in a long, relieving sigh, and said:
"That's the sweetest piece of piloting
that was ever done on the Mississippi river !
I wouldn't have believed it could be done
if I hadn't seen it."
Tli ere was no reply, and he added :
"Just hold her five minutes longer, partner,
and let me run down and get a cup of
coffce." c
A minute later & was mung mw ? }
pie down in the "texaV and comforting j.
himself with coffeo. Just then the night
watchman happened in, and was ahout to
happen out again, when he noticed E
and exclaimed:
"Who is at the wheel, sir ?" t
, "X i
"Dart for the pilot house quicker than a
lightning!" c
The next moment both men were fly- e
ing up the pilot house companion way r
three steps at a jump! Nobody there ! i
The great steamer was whistling down the >
middle of the river at her own sweet will! r
I The watchman shot out of the place again; v
IT! seized the wheel, set an engine f
back witli power, and licld his breath while t
the boat reluctantly swung away from a 1
"towliead" which she was about to knock, t
into the middle of the Gulf of Mexico! i
By and by the watchman came back and a
said: 8
"Didn't that lunatic tell you he was J
asleep when he first came up here ?" 1
"No."
"Well, he was. I found him walking
along on top of the railings, just as tin- ^
concerned as another man would walk a c
MM
pavement; and I pat him to bed. Now
just this minute there he was again, away
astern, going through that sort of tight rope
deviltry the same as before."
"Well, I think 111 stay by, next time
has one of those fits. But I ^QB?$MPS have
them often. You just ought to nav<tB
seen him take this boat through Helena ^$35
crossing. I never saij? anything so gaudy v
before. And if he can do such gold-leaf,
kid-glove, dianlond-brw?fcpin piloting, *
'when he is sound asleep;, what eouidu't he
'So if he was doad 5"?Maris Twain.
.. THE
HOB8B W SUSSIA.
. The bovine breeds, used in Russia for
draught-purposes, are quite remarkable for
sue, strength, and docility, and these usefed
adjuncts o! civilization are supplemented
by the buffalo and camel, both of which
are largely used in Southern Enssia. It is
in the horse, however, that the stock-fancier
will find the most interest. The greatest
sport the Eussian gentleman knows is
fast driving, and he spares neither trouble v/
nor money in gratifying this fancy. A good
pair of fast trotting-horses, of the Count
Orloff breed, not unfrequently commands in
the market a thousand poinds sterling.
These are magnificent animal), invariably
driven without blinkers, for the Eussian .
coachman says: "Give a horse every chance *
to look about and examine every object before
him, and he will not Bhy."
The noblest breed of horses in Bus*a?? .. ^ found
among the Tcherkess (a Caucafian
tribe) of Great and Little Eitbardah. '
Brought up in the wild steppe, amid daa? ' '
crors and niffhtlv alarms, its apprehensive.
sagacity becomes early developed in a high
degree. It is a fine animal, with a strong
spine, powerful croup and thigh, and great
width of shoulder and chest; the knee-cap* - '
are broad, the hoof as if formed of iron,' J
head and neck tolerably light; everything
seems combined to render them trusty, indefatigable
servants to man. TheTchety
chents, the most ferocious and determined
,'4 'H*
brigands of the Caucasus (now fortunately
only in small numbers), used to buy their,
horses in the Kabardah. They pick out the
most promising one-year-olds, take them
home, where they are, so to say, received
into the bosom of the family. They receive
their food when the latter sits down to a
meal, and they often sleep in the same
room. The young children will play with
them, talk to them, and crawl all day long
over and about them; what wonder if the
horse becomes almost as wise as its master!
The young boys will sometimes mount him
and gallop over the prairies, but no adult
thinks of bestriding him before ho has finished
his sixth year. His bones have then
become firmly developed, liis sinews and
feet are steel, his wind is invincible. He
knows his master's voice and look?nay, he
has even some notions of his character-...
His nerves have from his birth been finely
tuned to the sound of danger or mysterious
enterprise. It knows when its brigand
master is on an expedition of risk and unlawful
daring. A whispered word sends
him down into the high steppe-weed or
bushos situated near the road at a place
where the latter is difficult, where a convenient
ditch is at hand to reoeive a carriage
and its human freight. In breathless
silence both wait for what may turn np.
The ears of the Tchctchentsian Black Bess
slyly move to every waft of the light wind,
and before the man can hear the slightest
sound he sees by the demeanor of his steed
that business will soon be at hand. Hark I
a faint sound of the postal bell (fastened to
t-Jia -nolo of tlio vehicle^ strikes hia ear. he
feels for his gun, his pistol, his razor-edged
sword, the large dagger (l:\ntchal) and *
breathlessly awaits the approach of the '
travelers. Not a single thought bestowing .
on the probable number or quality of the
foe, be stands over bis horse, which slowly
gathers his feet up beneath him. At last
the moment for action has arrived. The
carriage is just at the right distance from
the ditch or other accidental difficulty of the
road?a soft '.'touch, and horse and man are
ap. With the bound of a tiger the horse
pounces upon the leaders, attacking them
with hoof and tooth. Simultaneously the
rider has fired at the driver; mad with terror,
the post-horses have jumped off the
road, precipitating the carriage in the hole,
md before its inmates have time to feel for
their revolvers, they are eased or at leaat
part of their properly, and may thank God
they have not broken neck or limb in the
fall. Before they recover from their fright,
;he Tchetchent is already several miles on
lis gallop home. He has a hard ride before
lim, and he, as well as his cunning qjiad uped,
knowB it full well; for to-morrow
;here will be an inquiry about where Mummed,
Arsslan Bey, or Moussa, was that
light. With a calm smile, our brigand
riend replies to the Russian Grado-Natch*
ilnik's question: <
"Where should I have' been but here? ' rhe
robbery was committed near the Aklonskay
Stanitzi, one hundred and fifty
rersts (eighty miles away) from here, and
vhat ? at nine o'clock; you say. Why, I
pas here at twelve, as I can prove, and
' could not ride that distance in three
lours."
The officer, up to Tchetchent'a tricks,
md anything but satisfied, turns to the
teed to discover from her appearance the
.fleets of so severe a ride; but the nag is
luietly eating bar corn, and looking as
:ontented and playful as if she knew her
naster's safety depended on her brave
>earing.
A TENNESSEE CAVE.
The Great Eastanalle Cave, which exends
under the eminence south-east of
Lthens, known as Cleago's Kidge, is liter.lly
filled with water which found its way
lown the gorge. No one in our day haa
ver ventured far into the dark and myste*
ious depths of the great cavern, and little
s known of it further than an old tradition,
? 11 -i - J t O.I.K
low laaiug away, mat a party 01 uv oqw b
uen who crossed the Hiawaaae at the Saranna
Ford, where a great battle was
ought, wore pursued by the Indians and
ook refuge in it?only to be walled up and
eft to a lingering death. Had the vast
>ody of water now gathered in the Eastalalle
Cave been added to the creek when
.t its highest recently, we are apprehen^:. yi- .
ive that it would have been "good by^Ssli^^
ohn," with several who live in the lower
evel of the town.-.
The greatest friend of truth is time;
ler greatest enemy is prejudice; and her
onstant companion is humility.