Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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"^JL?RIST,[ In l^tptitbmt janalg jS5S j?r <|t fioiratign of % foMraC Serial, *lyS?Sjjj^^Sr % 3m?. : 1 TE1^L' - . ? . f? " f "'* ^ 1 ' "i^fit*'''f '^ :' .W.llti" K * ? irt k /l>J 1 IU! " ? *.?-.j'. i'i . * ^ r v. ?:i.'*'> ?:'? ??- . . . ,. *** VOL. 14. ^TORKYILLE, S. C? THURSDAY, FQ^EMBEE 12, 1868. , ,; " ihc Jforjj letter. A BLACK MARE WITH A WHITE STAR CHAPTER! At precisely five minutes to twelve o'clock, on s certain October nigbt in the last decade of the last centnry, a post-chaise drove up to the door of the Broicn Bear, a well-known family hotel and posting house inthe ancient town of Oeiby. . "Another touch of the high toby again, Jim," remarked the postilion confidentially to' his friend, the hostler, as he slid his foot off the stirrup, ap<j dismounted. "Gemmen inside has had his pu? and watch faked, and a nice temper he's in." "Where did it happen this time?" asked Jim. "Just t'other side of Spondon. You koou Dead man's Lane? Well, that were the exact a. * '-?*? 8 pot. "Ay, ay! And was it the one this time again?" "Who else should it be in this part of the country ? It were the same black mart with a white star, that I've seen twice afore, and with the sfigc black fellow astride her?as black as OidNiok himself he is, from top to toe, and a rare good rider, too." Jim's powers of conversation being of a limited oider, he resorted to a long* low whistle, bythe way of expressing his interest and surprise ait the news told him by his friend, and then went onwith hi* work. , Meanwhile, the stranger inside the chaise had been released by an obsequious waiter, and ushered into the shut-up coffee-room, in the grate of which a remnant of fire still lingered. The candles were re-lighted, and then the landlord came' in person to take the orders of hii guest. ik/1 Kirn M tnvA ? fire liffht IT UUIU ure gVUUviuuu M?V ?w ? ? v ed in a private sitting room ? It could be done in five minutes," he said. , . Y , , 'Thank you; not to-night," said the Stranger. "Id the morning, I will look at your roema. . For the present this will do excellently. Sapper did you say ? Yes; bring me a crust of home-made bread and a mug of your best old ale. Aad then to bed." By this time he had laid aside his long, blue, fur-oollared traveling-cloak, and his fur travelingcap, and stood revealed as a bright-eyed, freshcolored, middle-aged gentleman, with the not tohe-mistaken air of a military sum, although h? present dress was that of a civilian; with irongray hair, unpowdered hair, cut short in front, bat worked into a queue behind; and with small, gray, mutton-chop whiskere. Judging by the frown on his otherwise pleasant-looking face, he was unmistakably oat of temper; but it was not till he had broken the smouldering lump of ooal in the grate - ? --J .1 1 1:?a:? into minute iragmenus auu uiavuy. reusiw uu overcharged feelings, that he vouched an explanation to the landlord. "A pretty welcome, indeed, after an absenoe of fire and thirty years, to be set upon by a ruffian, and have to decide at a moment's notice between giving up one's purse, and having a bullet through one's brain! I had better never have left the Canadas." He spoke in a captious, high-pitched voice, and as if he were more annoyed than angered at what had befallen him?less troubled by the loss of his purse than by the fact of his having been compelled to yield it up without a struggle ; / The landlord and the waiter exchanged looks. "Sorry, I'm sure, sir, to hear of your accident," said the former in a tone of respectful sympathy. - "For the last three years the neighborhood of this town has been infected by one of the biggest villians unhung; and you, sir, are neither the first nor the second that has suffered in like manner at his hands. A clever villian he is, too; and, sofar, has sot all the oonstables in the country at defiance. Did yon notice, sir, whether or not his face was blackened?" "I did," said the stranger. "Hewore no mflpk of any kind, snch as I have heard that highwaymen customarily wear by way of disguise. His face was perfectly black, either naturally or artificially so." "And he rode a black horse, did he not, sir?" "Either a black or a very dark bay one; a horse with a large white star in the centre of its forehead. That much I oould see by the light of the chaise lamps." .t , "The very same man," said the landlord, emphatically. The stranger drew a chair up to the fire, and sat down. He wa9 evidently interested. "You say, T (im 'nnt. t.hp find; who has been UUIUIVMU) bWWV A WM uw?- ?- ? ? ? -. robbed by this fellow?" "No, indeed, sir; not by a dozen, or tnore than that Hardly a singlemonth has passed daring any winter these three years, withoat oar hearing tell of at least one person meeting the same fate that befell you, sir, to-night One time, one of our most respected merchants returning home from a party with fifty guineas in his pocket which he had won at whist. Another time it was the Dean of Lichfield who was stopped.' Mr. Dean was eased of watch, snuff-box and purse. ? Next time, it was Lady Knutsford and her two daughters, who were stopped as they were on their way home from a ball at the assembly-rooms. Her Ladyship's necklace and rings were said to be worth six hundred pounds. These, and a dozen other robberies of less note, all perpetrated by the same man, with a blackened face, and mounted on a black mare that has a large white star in the nf ita fnrohead have lcent our little town in quite a ferment for some time past, and have driven our chief constables to the verge of despair. I believe that you, sir, are the first that hawbeen stopped this season, and it is a sign that winter is setting in. Tom Crooke, an auctioneer of this town, was the last man that was robbed last season, and this little affair happened about the beginning of April" ' 'Torn Crooke! 1 think I recollect that name,'' muttered the stranger below his breath. "Yes, sir," resumed the voluble landlard, "and it is a singular fact that all these robberies, the work of one man, are committed within a radta of twelve miles from this town; now on the London Koad, now on the Nottingham Road, now on the Ashburne Road, now on the Duffield Road. The r rider of the black mare with the-white'Star seems to be here, there, and everywhere, and to be wonderfully lucky in picking out as his victims people having about them something worth taking. When he has done his little bit of business, he seems to vanish as mysteriously as he oame, and is never heard of again, either there or elsewhere, till be turns up suddenly, a few weeks later, not a dozen miles from the same spot. Ah, sir, he's a shrewd fellow, he is, whatever his name maybe when he's at home. "Which is no consolation to me for the loss of my purse," murmured the stranger. Then the landlord bowed and retired, and the stranger proceeded to the discussion of his homely supper. "Major Grcgson f" exclaimed the astonished landlord early next morning, reading the name on sundry boxes and packages which bad just been - -hi MnttmrrViom uniu^nv in uy iuc iigiu-uuiici uuu "Why surely he can never be the Major Gregaon who fought so bravely in India and America?the i son of old Isaac Gregson, linen-draper of this town!" "But he can be, and is, and the best master in the world into the bargain," said the Moor's tuan as he stepped into the bar. "And I'll thank yon Mr. Landlord, to tell me the number of hie room, for its high time I took him up his shaving wa- t ter." c "{Jow X.-eall . toiniod," $aid, the landlord, "he i ' did say something last night about Derby being i his native plnoe. But he, the brave Major Greg- r L eon! the great fire-eater! Why, be don't stand 1 . more than five foot seven without his boots, and? t J and"- d "He looks qniet and peaceable as a lamb," put c in the Mjyor'a nun: "that's jUst him all over. A ? i, quiet, pious, God-fearing, gentleman in time of t I peaee; but just seehim going into action at the t I head of his mee^andlVwauid do-your eyes good, e ( and make your hair stand on end at the same time. His men knew he was made of the right stuff, and r would follow him evervwherei He was called y ; 'Forlorn' Gregson in the regiment, because be had b ,> headed so many forlorn-hopes in his time. But k ' wbere'f the shaving-water I" . li When Major Oregson drew tip kis blinds next morning, and peered ont of his bedroom window, j< he saw before him the fine old fashioned market a i place of thi JHtk <toworwfc^n*ahoy, he had ii ; trodden many hundred* of times. It was the old t market-place that he rettemteed so well, hot with o many changed features, as was only to be expected a s after the. wear and tear of the thiftHbre years that n | had elapsed sinoa he last saw. k -WTith the assist- p > anoe of his pookefctelesoope, J? ootdd make out ci the names on the signs over the different shops, o; if early all of them were strange io him, bnt there n j were two or three that he recollected as old family h i names in the town; and?yes t there was one that at I be remembered as the name of an old school-fel- y low. Itwaa the same name-that had struck so a familiarly on his ear when mentioned last night by w the landlord, &aprQn0on read the1 sign again, d slowly and carefully: "Thomas Crooke, Auctioneer and Vainer, House and Estate Agent" tl "Poor Tom Crooke!" said the major as he shnt it up his glass, and prepared, tip strop his razors. "A ? little dark-eyed chap, always in a row; several N years younger than me; in fact, I was only at the b school one half after he came. I recollect him so well by; reason of (his great fight with Scroggins. C And now bo's an auotiooeer I What queer changes n the whirligig. of, time brings about I I most call and see Tom after breakfast" tl Accordingly, n^jopper. was breakfast over than a the Major," taking his fcflver mouhted malaoca, n sauntered across the market-plaoe as far as the of- n fice of Mr. Thomas Crooke. In answer to his in- h quiiy, a dingy-offioe-boy informed him that Mr. Crooke had not yet armed, and that be waa^ot d expected till towards noon. "tv ' s| "I'll take a turn round the town, and call again g later on," said Major Gregaon to his hoy. "Per- ? hape I may be able to hunt up one or two more old a friends," he added to himself. By the by, he found himself on the banks of the w pleasant, ear-running Derwent Fresh food for I meditation here. 'Beeoliections of happy boyish ? days, when he and his oompanions used to oome V bathing here; of boating excursions; of Sunday evening walks with his mother in yonder meadows, hi along a path that followed every bend and turn of ? the river, tiQ one by one the stars came out, and a the tower of All Saints took the evening mists to is itself, and became a part of them. How all these e1 things came beck to him. At length he turned w away with a sigh, and strolled, hack towards the a' busier parts of the town. Over a shop door, in St. Peter's street, he saw painted "Sampson g Clowes, Tailor and Draper." w Major Gregson came to a stand on the opposite side of the street, and had a quiet laugh to him- 18 self. "What! old Sampson a tailor!" he paid. ^ 'The biggest glntton in the school, and not for off ^ ? - j ?.? ?i l:_ bi Oeiog tne Diggest aunoe ; uie ouy wuu unue mm- self ill with smoking bits of cane; the boy who 32 made such & hullabaloo when he sat down on a nJ lamp of oobbler's wax, and found himself stock u fast to the form. Oh! I must go and see old Samp* w eon!" * 1 Major Gregson crossed the road, and entered the a' shop. There was no one in it but a stout, flabby* 11 faced man, who was busy casting up a ledger. The Major's bat came off with a ceremonious sweep. u "I presume that I hare the pleasure of addressing 01 Mr. Sampson Clowes ?'' ^ "I am Mr.-Clowes," said the flabby man, look- K ing up from his ledger with a sort of dog-in-the* manger expression. _ ? "And I ami Major Gregson, Isaac Gregson's son * that n9ed to be, of this town. You and I, Mr. Clowes, were school-boys together." * The flabby man, chewing his quill viciously, took a moment or two to digest this information; then he spoke. "Well, what of that?" he said. ft ''Merely this," said the Major, with his uriest 1c manner; that having just returned to my tnti?e al town, after an absenoe of five-and-thirty years, and d seeing yoor name over the door, I suddenly re- di membered it as the name of one of my old school- ft fellows, and could not resist the impulse I felt to g< eome in and seeyofc." * tl The flabby man seemed to grasp for breath, "It e< may be a*you say, sir," he returned. "I daresay ns it is." "But school-days are too far gone past for h a plain business man like me to recoHeot much a- ? boot 'em. Just got our stock of winter-goods in; tl and here's my young man, who will be happy to tl show you the latest novelties." b; Ten minntes later "Forlorn" Gregson emeiged h into the street, looking very forlorn indeed, leav- h ing in the measurement-book of Mr. Clowes son- ti fahaliRtio. figures written nnder his name, hav- U ing relation to "one pair of superfine black ker- s< eeymere smalls." So the Major went on his trav- jc els about the town rather more disconsolate than tl heretofore. He was somewhat cheered, however, t< by the eight of another name that he recognized, ? on a brass-plate on the door of a house in one of a the most intensely respectable streets of the town: t< "Dr. Rufus Cropper." si Dr. Cropper was a very little man, pert and j1 voluble. He recollected the Major in a moment, 11 and shook him cordially by the hand. "Old Isaac Gregson's son, to be sure. School-lads together, j( and all that I remember you well, sir. You have a ' risen to eminence, while we poor beggars have been v vegetating here. We have seen your name in the t< newspapers, sir, and the old town is proud of her t< son. Glad to find you think of settling in the o neighborhood. Otiwm cum dignitate, and all that, u you know. Recollections of one's boyhood, as a g ruie, are all humbug. Life is full of humbug. If o you can't contrive to "do" the world, the world v will "do" you. That's my motto. Also, take s care of number one. That's another. Two-thirds a of humbug to one of utility?that's the rule in eve- d ry profession. Look at me. I'm a humbug. Ha! s ha! But the world believes in me, and I pocket v ww. 1 my fees, I dare-say if the truth was known, major c (no offence yon know), yon yourself are not far o from a humbug?eh?" b "Very probable not," said the Major grimly. fi "Such being the case, what is the end that all I philosophy teaches us? To deck the brows of a Plutos with flowers; to mix business and pleasure 8 in just proportions; to scrape together as many i guineas as we possibly can, and enjoy to the full b i the goods which the gods provide us. And this o brings to my mind the fact that I have a prime c i haunch of Welsh mutton for dinner to-day, and if i< ? you will take a knife and fork with me Major, I ( i shall be most happy." v Major Gregson, in slow courteous accents, ex- t i plained the reason of his visit, which he hoped n i Mr. Crooke would consider neither untimely nor J l ' misplaced. o Mr. Crooke was evidently at a loss how to sum t ip his visitor. All the time the Major was ad- j Iressing him, his black, suspicious eyes were tak- t ng note of the old soldier from head to foot It \ ras something entirely oat of range of his expeienoe to find a man claiming acquaintance with c lim on the soore of an old school-fritDdihip of thir- f y years ago. But Mr. Crooke was by no means a levoid of.preoeptjoo, and had ooosidenide.powers t >f adaptability; and by the time the Major had < inisbed his little harangue, be had arrived at a a olerably correct notion of the role it behooved him t o play in the little drama in which he was so nn- t xpectedly cast for a leading part i "Greatly honored, I'm sure, Mtyor, to find that t ay name has lived in yoar memory for so many t ears," hesaid in quiet suave accents. Tourfame I las preceded you, and the old town has reason to f e proud that one of her sons has achieved so bril- t ant a reputation." <3 "Please not to talk in that strain," said the Ma- ii ir, laying his hand gently on his companion's i Ioobo "Mo ftmp ?q onn am nlpjued to call it. C S to me a thing of very small vahie. I, in my p urn, am glad to find that I am not forgotten by h ne -who knew me when I was a boy. I have been nfortonate enough, Mr. Crooke, to loose every u ear relative I had since I went abroad, and I am, v erbaps, more strongly disposed in consequence to r nltivate those slighter ties of friendship which p ther men, more happily circumstanced than l am, tl light care less about At all events, I am glad to ave met you; and as I have some thoughts of n ittling in these parte, I must claim the benefits of car professional experience, and ask yon to aasist b le in my choice of a nest where I can fold my d iogs and be at peace for the remainder of my 1 ays." n "Most happy, I'm sure, Major, if I can bo of p le slightest use in anyway. Have yon been long tl i Derby?" "Only arrived last evening. Whioh vi :minds me, by the by, that on my road here from d fottingham I met with the same misfortune that I appened to you, last spring." "To what misfortnnedo you allude?" asked Mr. a rooke, with an anxiety in his voice that he ooold j( ot disguise. ii "To my being relieved of a watch and pnrae by b le same distinguished practioner that performed g similar office for you. .In plain English, I was u ibbed last night by a man mounted on a black ci tare, with a white star in the middle of its fore- p ead."_ a "Ah! now I understand," said Mr. Crooke, p rily. "Yes, as you say, I was operated on last le 3ring by the same professor, and deucedly cha- b rined I was. A most audacious villian! He ai sems the set the whole constabulary force of the w >untry at defiance." t( "Tell you what, Tom Crooke," said the Major, ith emphasis; "It would be strange if you and h couldn't by putting our wits together, devise a< >me ruse for effecting the capture of this fellow! p That say you, old chum ?" ' ' p "I think your idea a most praiseworthy one," aswered Crooke; "though whether it oould be is icoessfully carried out, is another matter. The tc tan who rides the black mare with the white star ej an old fox, and scents a trap by instinct How- s< ?er, we can think over the matter for a little c< hile. You can impart your ideas of it to me, ad I will impart mine to you." IV "So be it," said the Major, as he arose and be- tl an to draw on his gloves. "Business pretty brisk ith you?" IV "Tolerable," answered Crooke, "You see, this V i how I'm fixed," he went on, more confidential- h ' than before. **Tve not much business to do in | h le town here?I don't care to cultivate it The ti nlk of my work lies in the way of agencies and tl lies among the country families and gentry of the eighborhood. One way or another, I make a h dy thing of it, so I've no right to complain. Of u jurse, it takes me from my home more than I a.* Ice; and I'm obliged to keep a couple of service- t< ble nags, otherwise, I should never get through si ly work, as some of it lies long distances away." tc "All the better for us, Tom?all the better for p b," said the Miyor. "I'll wager you three dosen ai P port that before three months are over, you and , between ub, will have effected the capture of our gi ^doubtable Derbyshire Turpin." s< "You are over-6anguine, Major," answered it rooke, with a laugh. "But the event will show, ai fpflnwhilp T'H honk vonr bet." e< li tJ CHAPTER IL Q Id the course of the next few days, the Major's ime went.abroad in the little town; for the land- 01 ird of the Brown Bear?who never seemed quite ble to get over his surprise at finding so tremen- " dus a fire-eater, so short of stature and so mild of emeanor?took care to inform all and sundry who * equented his bar-parlor, that the quiet looking " entleman in number three was none other than w le celebrated Major Gregson, of'Whose exploits ^ /erybody had heard?"A man, sir, who has killed P tore blade chaps than any other man living; who ^ as fonght a tiger single-handed; and who yet u jads his Bible like a christian.'' From this source 8( le news spread in everwidening circles; and on P le third day of his stay, the M^jor was surprised 01 y a visit from the mayor, who, having, as he said, eard of the arrival of his distinguished townsman ^ ad come to pay his respects, and at the same d me request the honor of the Major's company ? ) dinner. Other invitations followed quickly from * )nie of the beat people of the town, and the Ma- 11 >r found himself in clover. He began to think n' bat, after all, he might do worse than pitch his ? ;nt within the hospitable gates of his native place. ^ le even went the length of consulting Tom Crooke ir 3 to whether there was any likely house in the * )wn in want of a tenant, or any small estate for lie in the neighborhood that would suit at once is tastes and his pocket. But Crooke had noth- G ig suitable on his books just then. At his second interview with the auctioneer, Ma- J1 )r Gregson was.more reserved, both in his speech " nd his demeanor, than he had been on the pre- " ious occasion. What he had been told in the in- 81 srim respecting Mr. Thomas Crooke had not been ) the credit of that individual. He had been told a n authority that he could not doubt, that Crooke " ras idle, vicious and dissipated; that he was a " ambler and a drunkard, and that his ill-treatment A f his wife was a notorious fact Now Crooke's a rife, as Maior Grejreon further heard, was his old choolmaster's daughter, Letty Leyland by Dame, od he had a very vivid recollection of her, as a * lark-eyed, beautiful child, when he was a boy at * chool, when he was in India, a young subaltern, 1 pith a few guineas in his pocket, slowly fighting lis way upward, he bad had pleasant love dreams ^ f which Letty Leyland, as a dark-eyed houri, just udding into womanhood, had formed the central a gure. But these were dreams of loDg ago; and 7 jetty Leyland was now Mrs. Crooke?a middle- s ged, ill-used woman, the wife of a profligate and drunkard. ' He called on Crooke two or three times a week, j iut it was rarely he could find that person at his . ffice. When he did succeed in seeing him, he ^ onfined his conversation entirely to business top- . ?>; for however much the Major's opinion of J Jrooke might have altered since their first interiew, having once promised him certain remuneraive commissions he was too conscientious a man iot to fulfill that promise to the strictest Utter, a rleanwhile, new friends were gathering round the Id soldier day by day; and day by day he found fi ' i . >. . ~ 1 rr?? J .be little town beooming^JBore, agreeable t&rryii )laee, and even beginpmgto. invest itself, is b houghts, with a home-uke aspect, .eqcb se a tin vanderer like himself knew how to appreciate. It so fell out, about this time* that Major Grej od aooepted an invitation to-visit one; of hianei bund friends at Melbourne, a-small hamlet tea 4 k dozen miles from Derby. The Major went, etayf wo nights, decided to return tp Derby after dinm to tbe evening of the third day,, ^s on the oca ion of bis memorable journey .from Nottingham te had traveled by post-ebaiee, so he nowadopfce he same method of locomotion. His friend's dil ter had beea good, the winep superb, and befoi he chaise had got three miles out of Melbounw be Major was in aoomfbrtabtopQ6tpraodialsnoos4 le was suddenly and disagfyitily aroused by;th tutting down of the chaisy wH^pow, by the preset stion of a pistol at hia head, wad by a raremptoi emand for his watch aDdptfrafc The Major sp a a dinner dreae and unarmed. . To resist wool arve been the height of fo^y. Under such cii umstances, to submit witha good grace is thebe* ihiloaonhv. The Maior'acoolneas did not desei lim. ,, "Here is my parse," he said. "Fortunately, i > not veiy heavy. A&ior my watch, unless I ai eiy much mistaken, you are the individual wh elie ved me of it a few weeks ago,, and I am haj; y to think that I haye.not.bought another sine bat time." The highwayman took the purse without a wore used his hat, bowed politely, anfi vanished. "As I live, the identical fellow that robbed m efore," muttered, the M^Jor, as the clatter of hooJ ied away dtown the stony road. "The Derbyshir 'urpin?the fellew-with the blackened face,an lounted on a black horse with a white star. . I retty thing to say of one of his Majesty's officersbat he has been twice robbed by the same mat ithout'so much as firing a single shot in hiaew efence. What would Colonel Chowder and ol lottomly think ?" Whst the landlord of the BrowpJkar thoughl nd what the landlord's guest thought, as the, Ma >r descended from the chaise, and walked up-stair ) grim silence to his own room, leaving the post 07 to teQ the tale, was, that of* all the uoluck, entlemen, he was the most unlucky. The topi 'as a thirsty one, and oonld not be properly du assed without frequent fresh glasses ; and mor eople came in, so that, by and by, the houae be ime quite crowded.; and the post-hoy. fas in th arlor, and his story was pumped out of him a :asl twenty times iu the oouree of a couple c ours, to oompensete for which exhaustive probes 9 much drink was poured into him as his carcas ould hold, so that^ finally, he had to be carrier > bed in a state of imbecility. ' -, , The Major's map, 'poming down stairs f hen h ad finally disposed of his master for the.night imitted to the landlord, in the discreetest of whit era, that he never before see the old boy so muol ut out of the way." "He's a gentleman as never swears, the Majo 1," went on the man; "but when be talks alow > hisself as he did to-night, and stares so with hi pes, as if he saw something that nobody elsecouh ?, why, I know there is something more thai immon on his mind." The landlord was dying to ask what it was th [ajor talked about, but merely said:?"Ay, ay lat was very strange, now wasn't it?" "You wouldn't think it strange if you knew thi [ajor as well as I know him," responded the man ITbat seemed to trouble his mind most was, tha e should be twice robbed by one man, withou aving a single shot at the blackguard. You ma; ike your davy that he won't go rambling abou ie country again without his pistols." Major Gregson's Bleep that night was troubled auuted by uncanny dreams, from which he woki p three or four times with a start, At last, jus a *1?a ofronba nf r]ouli?K^ VAM Kptrinmni 9 l/UC 111 Ob/pHlbOm V?AD VI * "~j **?^" ? > chase away the darkness, he got oat of bed, am ippinginto his dressing gown and slippers, t< >ok to pacing his bed-room from end to end, re eating to himself long passages from the Psalm ad the Book of Job as he did so. The Major wasstili pacing his bedroom when thi rave-like silence outside -was broken by the fain mod of a horse's tramp. Very faint and far oi sounded at first, but momentarily coming nearer nd presently penetrating the bedroom, it attract i the Major's ear. He stopped in his walk t sten. The grey light of dawn filled the street b; lis time, and till objects were clearly visible. Thi uick tramp of the hone came nearer and nearer he Major was still listening with an absent lool a his face, as though his thoughts were far away hen a peculiar something in the regular tramp o le coming horse, which was now close at hand artled him,,in one brief instant into vivid life he look on his face changed jnto one of the mos reathless anxiety. Two strides carried him to th< indow; it was the Work of an instant to plod ick.the blind,-aud to peer out, < with face, clos ressed to the panes,-into the gray,, solitary street le was just in time to^see a black-cloaked figun lounted on a-big, black horse, ride swiftly by; thi iund that had so startled Major Gregson wa lainly audible; it was the clank of a loose she* n the hard flints of the road. When the sonnd had died completely away ii le distance, the Major drew back from the win ftw. and let the blind fall intoits place. He sighe< eeply, and sat down on the nearest chair. Hi as very pale and very grave, and looked like th< lan on whom had fallen the sudden shock of i! ews. "Great Heaven, to think that it should b? >!" he murmured. After that he sat for mori ion an hour without speaking or moving, think ig intently. Then he shaved and dressed, am ent out fbr a walk, still with the same deep grav y of manner upon him. All that day and the two following days, Majo rregson scarcely stirred out of his room, excep ) take a quiet walk early in the morning or lab 1 the evening, when there was no chance of meet )g any of his acquaintances. His mind was evi ently ill at ease; but he kept his own counsel nd spoke no word to any one of the secret car rat was brooding over him. The third night hi it up later than usual, writing busily. When hi ad filled three sides of a sheet of foolscap, hi jad over what he had written, and signed it lien he folded up the ddcument in a large sheet nd sealed it carefully, and wrote outside : "T< e opened in case of my death, on 29th instant When this was done, he turned to his diary am 'rote as follows: "This day week I shall (D. V. o to Notts, and draw two hundred guineas out o fie bank for a purpose that I wot of." "During the two days and nights just past ave been inwardly admonished to do a particula fling, and I dare not reftise. The trial has beei sore one ; but when it became evident that ther ras no other door open to me, and that I mus ubordinate and utterly crush my own weak will ii bis matter, then I said : 'So let it besino rhich time great inward peace has been mine." "In case I should not come back alive, I hav sft in my desk a statement of my reasons for dc ig as I propose to do; for I would not have i bought that I entered upon this expedition rasb r, or without muoh prayerful entreaty that m arkness might be lightened. 'Tlioufh dark my path, tad tempetta never cease, Let me but touch Thy hand, and all ts peace.' " "To read a chapter of 'Holy Living and Dying, nd then to bed." The Major's man was pleased next morning t nd that his master's cheerfulness had come bac ? ' - ? ig to lam; r and that the cloud of care which had is brooded over him for the last few days had at xl length taken toitself wings knd vanished. Yes, the Major'ifeunny, cheerful manner had come back, ?- bat with more frequent pauses of silent thoughts r- than heretofore, with a greater liking for solitary >r walks, and a more constant reading of godly books, id The moiaicutof the twenty-ninth came in doe sr oouree, and immediately after breakfast the Major tr said feiujpsfelCas though he were stating a propoi, sitma tha^rifigfct by chance be open to dispute, "I d mnstrg? and see Tom Crooke." Accordingly, he > wenfcin search of Mr. Crooke, and was fortunate * enough to find that worthy in his office. J, "I -am going to Nottingham by the mid-day k ecwcb, Tom Crooke,"-said the Major, "and I want 0 nnn ,.Ia a UaIiJaMamJ ?Atfn*k ma '' Uaanata rvr JfUU IV U1AQ[? UUiVM^ BUU gUITlUi UIC? AJU/ D|/V^ * this morning in a tone of greater cordiality than y he had used since their first meeting. a "Much obliged to you, Jffaior," aaid Crooke, d drily; "but as to taking a holiday to-day, I hardr* ly see my way to do so?so very busy, you see. Of * oourse, if it's a matter of business that you want * me on, I must put other things on one ode, and - go with you. " , lt "But it's no matter of business," said Major D Gregson. "I wonVhivethe affair put on that o footing.' I am 'going to Nottingham simply to draw K a- couple of hood red guineas out of the bank, e whioh l -want for a certain purpose; and if you will go with me, we'll have a comfortable little lj dinner together, and some of the best wine that can be had for love or money, and be altogether as ? jolly as a couple of sand boys.' Say that you'll go, k Tom Crooke. " ? "Do you bOok at Nottingham, Major, that you d have to go there foryour money ?" asked Crooke, k without bedding the latter part of the Major's " speech. ^ ^, j <|?/ -$5j : >? "Idtotbank, at Nottingham," answered the old d soldier. "A half-cousin of my father's is in that d business, and aO my little savings are in his keep if' > ' ' ? 'I? ?* ? rag. t "At what hour do you propose leaving Notting 11- ham ob your return?" b "If you go with me, we will return at whatever r hour may suit you best If I go alone, I shall not y set out on my way back t01 a late hour?say eight c or nine o'clock?having a few calls which may as well be. made jf I have, not the pleasure of your e company. But ^ou will go with met will you b "Soe^3tej<&to be obliged to decline your kind ;t invitation, but'the business I have on hand admits f of no deh^-7-at least, not for holiday purposes. 8 Are you not afraid, by the by, to travel with so s much money in your possession ? Suppose the 1 rider of the black mare with the white star should : bid you stand and deliver for the third time ?" e "Who ever heard of a-man being stopped three ? times in su&e&iob by the Same thief? No; I conh sider that I am far safer this time than if I had 3 never been robbed at all Do not you agree with me?" , i ; r "It may be as yon say, Major," replied Crooke, * with a sneeh "But I would not advise you to 8 trust too implicitly in such a doctrine." 3 "But you are the only person who knows of my 0 errand totfbttingham," said the Major; "conserinnnHj". f nmiQiijfflr to see in what way I am rane ningiqjr extraordinary risk by having so large a > sum of money about me.-" "Oh I the rider of the black mare has a happy e knack of finding"out that sort of secret," said * Crooke, with a laugh. "However, I hope with * all my heart that you may get back safe and sound 1 and with your guineas in your pocket,. How af bout our . bet, by the by ? How about the three 1 j? q mi A... .1 Lis : : uuzuu pure r iiw mrcu ujuuiu) an; uippius ifui. etly away, yet yotraaem do ^nearer towards effect? ing your object." .<? 9 "I am nearer my object, Tom Crooke. I am six 1 weeks nearer it," said the Major. "If Hive I I shall win my wager." ^ "I don't think you will, Mjyor Oregson," said 9 .Crooke, tossing' his penknife into the air, and * catching it dexterously as it fell. "I really don't 8 think you will win your wager." . "Tie event will prove," answered the Major, 9 solemnly. "For the last time, I ask you, Thomas Crooke?will you go with me?" * f"Aod for the last time, Major Gregson, I posi? tiyely answer, No. " Major Gregson had the inside of the ooach to 3 himself that day as he journeyed from Derby to f Nottingham, and his melancholy musings yrereune broken till he reached bis journey's end. He pro' ceeded at once to the banjt,* and drew out two hun1 dred guineas, which, sealed up in a canvas bag, be deposited temporarily with the landlord of the lw> 1 tel, ?t whiob he had ordered his dinner, He then ' debated within himself whether he should call on' ' his few Nottingham acquaintances, hut finally def cided that, to-day, ho was not in spirits for society. 2 Instead, he took a walk throhgh the meadows by 1 the banks of the Trent, and found his way back to 2 the hotel at desk. When he had dined, and a very ' poor dinner be made, he sat brooding over the fire, 2 leaving untouched the wine at his elbow, waiting 2 till the elock-should strike eight, at which hour he 9 had ordered a post-chaise to be in readiness. At 2 half-past seven, be took.out his little pocket-Bible, . and read a chapter slowly and devoutly. At a 1 quarter to eight, he drew, one by one, from the ' pocket of his traveling cloak, a small oblong mahogany case, a powder-flask, and a tiny bag, hold2 ing some half-dozen bullets. The mahogany case 2 held a brace of pistols, which Major Gregson oow proceeded to load with the utmost care. This 2 done he rang for his bill, put on his cloak and hat; 2 and carrying the pistols under his arm, he went ' down stairs; and was shut, up inside the chaise. The bag containing the two hundred guineas was stowed away in a small locker near his feet. r For the first few milss of the road, Major Gregt son let the pistols lie unheeded beside him; but as e soon aa the sixth mile-stone was passed, he drew > himself up with military precision, as though he had received the word of command, and grasped his weapons, one in each hand. The moon was in g her second quarter, and the night was bright, clear and windy. Both windows of the chaise were g purposely left open. The Major sat bolt upright, B turning his sharp eyes from one window to the other, and listening with all his might for the sound of approaching hoofs. His cloak was wrapped ^ well around him, for the night was chilly. He sat with both his pistols at frill cock, the barrels proj trading from the folds of bis cloak in a line with y the windows of the chaise. His face was very j, stern and resolute and could the landlord of the Brown Bear have seen his guest at that moment, j he might have been able to form a tolerable idea r of how Forlorn Gregson looked when about to n head one of his desperate charges, and might have e been strengthened in faith as to his undoubted t qualities as a fire-eater. Q The chaise, keeping up its monotonous jog-trot, passed one milestone after another till the " twelfth of them was left behind, the Major still sitting bolt upright, as grimly watchful as a tiger) in its lair that scents the hunters from afar. Sud-1 y denly, a faint sound struck upon bis ear. His head went forward an inch or two in his anxiety to ' listen, and his muscles tightened like steel. The ^ same instant, the postboy, with an oath, drove the spur deep into his horse's flanks, and the crazy old chaise started forward at a headlong pace. They had gone thus but a few yards, as it seemed, when a dark mounted figure shot past the window, o and wheeling swiftly round on the affrighted postk boy, brought the whole concern to a dead halt. - - j " 9 1 ? ! Next instant, the dark moan ted figure was at the window, and a pistol was pro traded in to the chaise. ! "Yonrmoney, oryoor.ljftl" Thee? were hie last words oa earth. A slight movement of the Major's elbow, a contraction of his fbre-flnger, a flash, an explosion, and with a. i wild inarticulate cry, the highwayman fell from his i horse, shot clean through the heart With a loud i soort of, terror, the horse started offy dragging the i dead maa at his heels; hot before it hadgone moit i than twenty yards the robber''s foot slipped out of t the stirrpp, and,the horse, "freed fremiti* harden, i went off at a terrific pace down the road. l . .Mty'or Gregson, assisted by the, postilion, carried the dead man back to the oht^/aod then t a few moments. < "Tf.?n o? " .nc^l tfui* Maloa mmJhr "An T i thought?a?I thought,"he addedmxlerhia'breath. j "He courted hia fete,? and hiB blood, be apoujris t own head." c "Why, the Mack comee off his feoe I" said (he e postilion in surprise. "1 thought when I saw t him at first that it was his natural color." c "It was only put on by way of disguise, " iaid f the Major. 1 They then put the dead robber into the chaise, and performed the rest of their journey at a foot- e It was very late when they got into Derby, and g they went straight to the house of-the chief-con- ? stable, and knocked. td The Major told his story, and the body was ta- t ken out and plaoed for the night on a table of a 1 small waiting-room. "One of the constable^ threw- I ing the Hght of his laptern into the feeettf tbe 9 dead man, started back in diaqtay. ) "Tom Crooke's face, as I live 1" he exdaimed. "It u tbe faoe of Thomaa Crooke,"" said Major c Gregson, solemnly. "He ahdfthe .rider of the i black mare with the white star Were one and tEe I same man." I Late as was the hour, Major Gregson's first act, 1 , - getting back to bis hotel, was to induce thewife i of the landlord, who was a kindly, good-hearted < soul, to go at once to Mrs. Crooke, and break to i her, as gently as might be, the. news of the sad ( fete that had befallen her husband. " In the coarse of the next day, a' jury wasim- c pannelled to sit upon the body of the dead high- i wayman. Major Gregson and the postboy f ere a onmmnnod tn oiwfl Thp HtAtfi- i ment was pimple and to the point ! "Having been nnfortnnate enongh," he said, f "to be twice robbed within the space of six weeks, I determined to protect myself for the fntnre 'as far a it lay in my power to do so. Yesterday, I had oc- 1< casioD to go to Nottingham to draw from the bank t the sum of two hundred guineas, and on my return o I armed myself witb my pistols. The moment the r highwayman presented himself at the window of a the chaise, I shot him dead." o Pie postilion gave confirmatory evidence as far ! as his knowledge went. The verdict of the jury, ii given without a moment's hesitation, was one of a "Justifiable Homicide," coupled with a vote of c "dunks to Major Gregson for the bravery displayed g | by. him in ridding society of one of its greatest o pests. o I Just as the case was finished, Crooke's horse, b which had been captured a mile or two out of r Derby, was brought to the door of the hotel where v the jury were sitting. It was recognized by seve- t ral there as the black mare which Crooke had kept a for the ostensible purpose of going about the conn- a try on bis business avocation; only, there Was this t singular fact to be observed, that the capUUftl ft mare was marked with a. large White.star in the i middle of its forehead, whereas thoL auctioneer's 1 favorite animal was known to be entirely Maek. g "Fetch a IiUie warm water and a sponge," "Said i fifajor Gregson. * " *,u ? The hint was acted on; and the star was washed 1 out without difficulty. ? * ' ' , I Through the^urteroessiau of Major Gregson, the i body nf Crooke w? given op.to his.widowKinatead I of being handed over to the medical authorities for dissection, which would-otherwise have been * The Major, in his evidenoe before the jury, made t no mend on of a little incident whioh bad be6n the 1 means of first directing his suspicious towards * Crooke. When he was robbed for the .seeood time, on his way-from Melbourne, as the highway- 1 man galloped off; the Major'p quick .ears,detected * that pop of his* horse's shoes was loose.. Such a * trifling fact'would soon "hive escaped his'memory, t had he not a few hours later?at daybreak next 1 morning, as he was pacing his bed-room?heard f the* same sound again.' The Major looking out of 1 his window, saw that on-this occasion, the rider of t the horse with the loose shoe was none other than ? Tom Crooke; and from that moment the convio- o tion was borne forcibly in upon his mind that his f old school-fellow and the rider of the black mare p with the white, star were one and the same. Of e the mental processes by means of which the Mtu'or e arrived at the conviction that to hitn was delegated * the duty of ridding society of this man, we. have i no hint beyond those conveyed in the extract from { his diary, already given. The Mqjor would seem , to have fought against this conviction up to the last moment, judging from the pains he took to in- Jj duce Crooke to accompany him to Nottingham as a friend; but when he fouud his invitation so per- v emptorily declined, he was none the less sternly v determined to go through with the duty which, as c he conceived, had been laid upon him. 0 For some unexplained reason, Derby seemed to f become distasteful to Mpjor Gregsoo, after the , death of Crooke. About a fortnight later, he returned to London, from which place he went to Bath; and for the remainder of his life he oactHa- j ted between the two, dying ultimately at the latter place, at the great age of ninety. A Cuwous Story?A Man Choked Under * ? * Startling Circumstances. ? The Jiiiwauxie * t Wisconsin, of the 8th instant, says: a "Yesterday a German named Cadell was engaged g to do some work in a batcher shop in Market ^ square. While so engaged, a neighbor came in g and asked why he had not returned a hatchet he ^ had borrowed from him a few days before. Cadell ^ replied that he had returned it This tho neigh- ^ bor denied, and notwithstanding Cadell's protestations, insisted that he bad not dooe so. Cadell ? grew considerably excited over the accusation, and after some words with the neighbor, said very load- F ly, "I did bring it back to yon the veiy night 1 got it, and I hope God will ohoke me dead with , this piece of meat if I didn't" At the same time j, he placed in his month a piece of raw beefy which, J ^ I without chewing, he bolted The beef evidently t lodged id the man's windpipe, tor at once ne oe- ^ gan to gasp, as if for breath, and to grow black in ^ the face. A number of persons gathered about, { but none of them seemed able to render the man '' any assistance, and it seemed as though he would , die in earnest Somebody had thefraenoh'&i mind to run to the police station, and i.dtfnn' Mo- ( Donald went down. He opened the m?Vn?lh, ( using considerably force todo so, and, rannR% hu j fingers down his throat, polled cmtthe meat A , shower of cold water bfoaghtCadaM to, bathe had , about as dose aa eeeape from death as one would , wish for. As he can&Jto hit senses again, Cadefl looked at his neighbor, and in a most sorrowful tone said: UI did bring bade your hatchet" The i neighbor concluded by this time he hhd done so." i mmtlUum ftadittg. ' of-ltuHAr AT mktr. It is at Eylau that Marat appears in his mtxst terrible aspect- Ibis battle fbO^hlifl ifai<^Vroter; in 1807,. was the most important thcl Woody tme that Ba3 tbew WtiMA.^Frt^t^lniteia had never before oppbsGcf such Bt^itfrto bach other1, inda eomptete viewry on dtheHMewdkhhave jettledthe'ftte of n pomeraon offtO was everao like a ddeat ^ ^ ten feuflkientlyhaM,Wlfeff't|e'atta^. ' 'iSeveny-one thoosairf m^ bnWaiap^ tajjh^-Uve booMod on g^frqte p <W8 noniing. . Adaaja* ag through a sfconti solhioc.ae vuiu uui ow uio cucuj;, tuc uuooiMifN|M?i^fMirr ?d down his ranks. wilhthekdestrrtvelii*, while he Cossack cavalry, which W0? ame thnnderinf o?Enlmaifehilli|fi>M TTssitfifc<b? *oaj With their loog k**? Wm tUy were viiifo through the ntarni nv fcft ?*e* xi odv Hemmed in an overthrown, the whalaiiMrieb, lompwwd efdfrOaO sacfc^witb'thnl jaieefttiou of yMO werecaptvffido? Jh* tbfen&wtsntwi torm dewing hp^ttVS^^NijkitatoV & wifio^ hei waa hietfh^kadiw^tlimediitely or- 7 at fered agrandfehar^b^^helmperiafTGhtarfltKd be whole calvary. Nothing was further from aoMtp^^^iS^'ofWLiP^ga^ tbknibi Wigng of his reswygintd the;e^^pnf JlTthiB eSfr tage of t?e battle,, baif there was no other resource mmuL ~'n ' :^<VT'J ,f *** ' 'nut /? lim. Nothing eonldlw ?Wf ilMKwiiw tbao the wttle field at', tin* mataent Deuapagte and^the Empire trembladin the balaiKMt<wfei)t Sfiwat prepared to lead-down hie twrahy-f aaws lhsm/8w? *>ty Sqaadrensf makiftgin afll^OWWdlwtfmutad nen, began to move over the dope, witfa' ^^dM ?aaid toWwhifig Bttrely behfod. . ,\~ " finals then' irhenf & few tear being ng! tSwfot* pjpnwf durat, that streamed j il^l thfe ?nfrP)<fcmm rdarim ront, a ?mie passed overdue coonteqancft : _ The. earth gipaiMd Mdtremhlidaft they passed, ad the aabres,: above-the dafck, aagiy anaaa bekrw, soked like the fbam of a rea-#ave^ as it crests on he deep. The rattling of their armor, and the nuffied thunder of their' tread, drowned all the oar of battle, as with firm'set array, and swift, toady motion. they bore down with teWible front n the foe. w The shook of that immense host was like a Mog mountain, and the front line of the Russian ' . 3 ' i!t i- m raiy went uuvn uiv uun win. imora iu jlwii ommeneed a protnflfed fight of fattd to hand, sad word to sword, as in the cavalry action at EekaubL The dashing of steel was like the ringing f countless hammers,-and horses and riders were Jended in wild oenfusion together. The Russian eserve was ordered up, and on these Marat fell rith bis fierce horsemen, crushing and trampling hem down by thousands." Bat the obstinate Rasians disdained to fly, and rallied again and again, o that ri was po longer cavahy^havgiag.ea in&nry, bat squadrons eflfcffMgtfopilg Antgfc bre:ei> hosts, that, gadmiagiota knots, atifldbpnted, fidil . :st pitch of passicHi by the obstacles t&tf Opposed jod looked more like,'*kperbcman ng dcwnrheipleei mortal*-thMfta ordinary map. Lmid the roar of artillery and rattle of-musketry,. ? aid falling of sabraairokes, l&elightmig hbont rhile ever and aubn it was seen ghrtng^th^^h inditrijsttfisf fietflij,: fliw i or^rV jt js8ssfle6i@s.is ' aereaaed lastzu, if We his dearMflatesdy foioe, leard there the tatnotiof atrife, ?aa vorfth more ' ban a dfettsaM Wnpett M dUmm&fM&mm. If length, seeing^ oc a long tjme kept up a deVtieribg UK on his Men iever allowed tb?t ffhi^pInrytoVayat^a^ barged after him. >. Without vaitififtexoQifct his oes, he seiaed his boidle in his teeth, and with bis listol in one hand add his ftdyaaepifl ietbe-eth a ten Mjf ? tomcu* MlWjUfc, Mtmt ras,a thunderbolt on that day, and the deeds that r?e wrought by him will forcM, tiraes for the toet and pointer. >/ ;. - . . j-. V : .. > The Victims of a MaKUC.?A horrible io0t-? lent recently recurred in the mtsr of Trebixoqd, Wkey. Ia the space of a few minutes, seventeen ictimfl fell under the knife of a madman, each ictfm receiving bnt a single wound, which, in all ases, was aimed at the heart The comsensed his butcheries at 8 o'cjpck in the taoioing, rmed with a knife,sharpened on two edges, the Jade of which without Hi or seven iochee in SQgth. Having fastened the Jjijife'to his hand rith a cord, keeping the biadohebeath his arm, be ommenoed walking slowly up the street seising us opportunity to stab every one whom he found rithin his reach, and, quickly concealing his weapin after each murderous blow, left his surprised ictims totally unconscious of the hand that dealt heir death-wound, and unable to denounce the ssassin. An end was finally pat to the bloody rork by a baker, who succeeded in felling the as* ?? 1 !l *. A tLssin to the eartb witb a weu-aimea mow irom a leavy stick of wood, when he was immediately eized, disarmed and handed over to theauthoriies. The excitement and horror created among he entire population of Treaibond was so great bat the Governor was obliged to hasten the txention; and, after a smnofeuy trial, tbecdpRt was aketr into the pdbHc squareand beheaded, in the iresenpe.of the whole population of the city. Ait''Oswow C0URT8HIB.?A character ia a rell-known play says?"I- never icapert a man lalf so much as after I have fought with him." [here is a good deal of fcnnan nature in therenark. Anjqwdant, ikaatraniiii jnasameprinci>le, occurred hrtelyiikOnapfev >, Aoeuatry sohoolnaster near CorvafltaMiatirtMicto ehaetwe one of lis pupils, a large g^i^htidowed witii good health jxlplenty of muecte. A lohfsad spintea oonawaited with otetlllwaialniitlu flai ant'rr ?n^li?I The teacher finally reduced the spunky girl to collection, but riy after agaitoUtrnagfe on her part The confix 4u>nnn?pvin^wW??a^^th soeh a mutual aspect fbreaeh etfefcV that in afcwdays after My Wws martied. cbn't admire the Oregon ityie of oourt&ip, but there may something in it. .. i ?'rr~ ' J9? Instead of aayingthiogs to Puke people atare ind wonder, any *m wiU'keepthem from etching md wondering hereafter; this is philosophy.