Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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lewis m. &bist, proprietor, j Jnbepeniient (familjj ftetospaper: ^or tjje |)romotion of t|t political, jsotial, ^gricntfnral anil Commercial Interests of t|e jSontjj. |TERMS?$2.50 A TEAR, IN ADVANCE. VOL. 28. YORKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, JIJ^TE 15, 1883. . ISTO. 34. ?elkr. THE MYSTERY REVEALED. CIIAPTElt I. Harry sat on the hearth-rug tormenting an unlucky kitten ; Dollie, Teddy and Tim, in the window recess, were enacting the story of Daniel in the lion's den, but departing from the text of the Scripture narrative, inasmuch as the lions, Teddy and Tim, were commencing to gnaw Daniel, each having introduced a fat little arm into his mouth, against which innovation their victim was protesting with all the power of his lungs, not altogether, it is to be feared, upon the ground of principle. Guy stood beside the table, learning a spelling lesson at the top of his voice, while Ethel, under cover of the table-cloth, was creeping along with a big pin, which would presently make acquaintance with the calves of Guy's legs. Their distracted mother, Mrs. Montagu, sat in thoir midst. t.hfl babv on her lap rattling a big bunch of keys. At last the pin reached its destination, and the youthful operator was fully rewarded for any slight expenditure of trouble, for Master Guy jumped at least a foot high, and shrieked enough to bring the house down. The noise so startled Harry that he dropped the cat, which made off for the door, after bestowing a deep scratch upon the young hero's hand by way of a parting attention ; he wept long and sore, and the poor frightened baby, letting fall the keys, wailed in harmony?or out of it; while poor Mrs. Montagu would have liked to shed teara also. In time, all the noisy little mischief-makers were dispatched to bed, bu? was it surprising that their unhappy mother was worn out, pale and tearful at the end of the day ? "I suppose those young rebels have been half killing you ?" began her husband, as soon as the dinner was over and the pair were left alone. I have no doubt that Ethel has been feeding the baby with ashes, Guy and Harry ? having a stand-up fight, and all the rest making noise enough for Bedlam." This picture was so far below the reality that Mrs. Montagu discreetly forebore to make any reply. "Well! something must be done. I've spoken of it before, and now the thing shall be done," resumed the oracle. "We'll have a governess for them." * J ---? Qont M>_ Montacru Ana rising uum u? Uv~.., w reached for paper, pen and ink, and forthwith drew up an advertisement, which he read aloud. "Wanted, A Governess.?Learning and accomplishments of no consequence ; strength of arm the only indispensable qua!ideation. Apply, Ac." "Robert, state the facts ; sweet and talented children, but their education slightly neglected." "Humph 1" ejaculated the husband, in a tone that savored of skepticism. It was according to the notions of neither parent precisely that the notice was eventually drawn up; but one was at least written out and dispatched by that very night's post, and in due course it appeared in the columns of the Times newspaper. To that advertisement, in the course of the next few days, exactly eighty-four replies were received, and what the ultimate decision would have been, it would be hard to say, but for the intervention of a chance circumstance. One afternoon, as Mrs. Montagu sat in the dining-room, for the twentieth time turning over the various letters of application, a servant entered, carrying upon his tray a lady's visiting card, bearing the words, "Miss Marion Lockhart." It was the name of one of the applicants for the situation of governess. "Good gracious! Will the whole eighty-four call ?" exclaimed Mrs. Montagu, and in her dismay would have gone straight off into a fainting fit, but that there was no person at hand to recover her; so, postponing the troublesome ceremony, she hastened to the drawing-room to see her visit-1 or. "Pray, sit down," she said, indicating a chair near the fire, while she herself sank upon a couch opposite. "Thank you : I have ventured to call because I cannot afford delay in finding a fresh situation," replied the stranger, timidly. "I hope it does not inconvenience you to see me." "Not in the least. I am very glad you have called," replied the elder lady, who was pleased with her new acquaintance. The gill's Dleasant well modulated voice and graceful manner were attractive; her dress was simple and neat, and her face, Mrs. Montagu came to the conclusion was, without exception, the most beautiful she had ever seen. In repose, it was sad, as though its owner, young as she was, had known sorrow and suffering of no common measure. Miss Lockhart at once proceeded to state her qualifications. These were perfectly satisfactory, and, just as the young lady was concluding her story, Mrs. Montagu heard a welcome sound in the hall. It was her husband's step, and his return from town at this moment, was most opportune. Excusing herself brielly to her visitor, Mrs. Montagu ilew to consult with her husband. After hearing her account of the candidate, Robert Montagu followed his wife into the drawing-room. Miss Lockhart could not fail to be aware that his entrance was for the purpose of inspection, but the knowledge did not seem to disconcert her in the least. On the contrary, she conversed with them easily and naturally for a few minutes, and then arose to take her leave. "You will write, then, Mrs. Montagu, to Lady Ringwood ? I supjwse you will be satisfied with her recommendation alone ?" added Miss Lockhart, hesitatingly, and "it was the first sign of nervousness that she had betray eel. "l liave uvea wuu uei iui u>ul >r?uo. "Certainly; it would be quite sufficient," said Mrs. Montagu. And there the interview would have ended, but Mr. Montagu had suddenly a fresh suggestion to make. "My dear," he said turning to his wife, "you are going into town this week ; could you go to-morrow and call in Portlandplace V" "It may not be convenient for Lady Ringwood to see me," said Mrs. Montagu, coloring a little with bashfulness. "She is leaving for Mentone in a few days, for the benefit of her husband's health." "Pray, call!" cried Miss Lockhart, eagerly. "If it is not putting you to too much trouble, | I should li]|e you to sjjeak to Lady Ringwood; | and she, I am sure, would prefer it to writing," I concluded the young lady, with confidence; i and she sj>oke the truth. ! The distance from Freshfield to Condon was but a matter of twenty miles or thereabouts,! and it was still early when Mrs. Montagu found her way, next day. to Portlandplace, ! where she met with a kind reception. Lady Ringwood and Laura Montagu moved in very j different spheres of society, but both were essentially good women, and they understood une another instinctively. Of Miss Lockhart Lady Ringwood sinike with the most cordial commendation. "I can only say, Mrs. Montagu, that I myself regard Miss Lockhart with feelings of affection and esteem. Her management of children is wonderful. Mine adore her, yet she is in many respects very strict with tiiem. I feel parting with her deeply, and have offered to make arrangements to keep her; but she prefers to be independent, perhaps justly. The truth is that I can hardly discuss Miss Lockhart under the form of employer and employed; she has been more of a friend to me." Naturally, as the upshot of the interview, Miss Lockhart was engaged by Mrs. Montagu, it being further arranged that she should go down to Freshfield on the following Monday to enter upon her new duties. Mrs. Montagu found Miss Lockhart all that Lady Ringwood had declared her, and more. She keptallthose unruly little people in check, yet made them happy; and very shortly her clever help and sweet temper had rendered her indispensable to Mrs. Montagu, who could no longer have imagined existence without her invaluable governess1 aid and support. CHAPTER II. Time went on, bringing no changes into that quiet home at Freshfield. At length after a couple of years of this peaceful monotony, a small event was in prospect which promised to vary the orderof things. This was the return home, after ten years absence in India, of Mr. Talbot North, Mrs. Montagu's only brother; and that little lady, grown, since her introductory struggle, younger and plumper, thanks to Miss Lockhart's care, was in a happy flutter of expectation. It was Sunday night, a fair moonlit Sabbath evening, and Mr. and Mrs. Montagu had gone to church, leaving Miss Lockhart at home imparting a little theological instruction to their numerous offspring. As Miss Lockhart was thus engaged, her attention was caught by the sound of a footstep on the gravel walk without; the next moment the hall bell was sharply pulled. It was followed by a brief dialogue between the new comer and the only maid servant at home ; which terminated sim ultaneously with the appearance of the stranger in the drawing-room. This unexpected and unknown visitor was a tall, handsome man of about thirty or thirty-five years of age; and, as ho stood within the doorway surveying the wondering group about the table, he smiled in an amused fashion. At once it rushed across Miss Lockliart's mind who was the unseasonable intruder;and meanwhile the new-comer had not all the gazing to himself, for the children's six pairs of eyes were riveted upon him in unmitigated astonishment. Finally the gentleman spoke. "Do you not know me ?" asked he, laughing delightedly. "I think you must be Mr. North," answered Miss Lockhart, half rising from her seat. "And you, I am sure, are Miss Lockhart," said Mr. North, for it was 110 other than Mrs. Montagu's brother who had returned at this inopportune moment. "By name, at least, you are exceedingly well-known to me," continued the young man, as he came forward with frankly outstretched hand. "You Uncle Talbot!" exclaimed Guy, in tones of manifest disapproval and disappointment, for their Indian Uncle had been a species of hero to them. "Come back like that ! Why you might be anybody." Miss Lockhart, looking at the young man standing before her in his splendid strength, with his engaging debonair expression of countenance, could not indorse Master Guy's discerning judgment. "Have you dined, Mr. North ?" inquired she, as it occurred to her that she ought to play hostess in Mrs. Montagu's absence. "What will you take V" "Nothintr at nresent. thank you, except a cup of tea, "if I can have one." So Miss Lockhart, mindful of her responsibilities made the tea and brought him a cup with her own hands, North watching the process and admiring her dainty grace while she was at work. She was dressed to-night only in a plain dark woolen gown, but it fell about her slender form in soft undulating folds as she moved across the room, while about her neck was drawn a white handkerchief of filmy lace, the quaint style of which set off her peculiar beauty. Talbot North found himself noting all these details with extreme interest. Eveiy pulse of Talbot North's being would long beat to the slight incidents of that evening ; every word spoken was graven upon his heart in letters of enduring stone. Mr. North had just finished drinking his tea when a slight commotion in the hall announced the return of the church-goers. Miss Lockhart rose in haste. "I had better go and tell Mrs. Montagu," she said, and left the room. In a moment Mrs. Montagu had reached the drawing-room, and her plump little form was clasped in her brother's arms. "Oh, Talbot ! you promised to write or telegraph. Imagine our being gone to church and everything ! What have you had V" "Miss Lockhart very kindly gave me a cup of tea," answered North. "A cup of tea !" exclaimed Mrs. Montagu with a shriek of horror. "A cup of tea after coming from Bombay! Good gracious ! we must have supper at once. And for me to be out when you arrived ! I could cry. Where are your belongings V Shall we send to the station for them ?" "I have nothing but a hand-bag. An accident detained me in Paris, and they left by a previous train. I suppose they will turn up all in good time." CHAPTER III. It was only a very few days later that Mr. ?,jh, liic u-ifo enrMpii aluillitgu, u1uuc uio iiuv, ly started a novel idea in an inquiry he made ; and although the question was put in a joking form, it was none the less suggestive. "My dear, are you prepared to lose your invaluable governess, and to receive her in the new relation of sister-in-law ?" "What do you mean, Robert ?" "Does nothing strike you with regard to Talbot and Miss Lockhart V" "Talbot likes Miss Lockhart very particularly, as we all do," retorted Mrs. Montagu, laughing. "Her sentiments are, to my mind, the only doubtful point in the affair," added the speaker thoughtfully. "A royal princess would be proud to marry Talbot," said that gentleman's sister, fondly, and the belief was not so very remarkable, for Talbot North, with his charm of manner and his sunny temper, was a universal favorite. "But Talbot might have looked higher than a girl in Ma rioii Lockliart's position," concluded -mis. Montagu, a little regretfully. "She will make him ail excellent wife,"said Mr. Montagu, with commendable commonsense and right feeling. "No one says otherwise," returned his partner, in gentle reproach. "The marvel to me is that Talbot has not married before." The very contingency that has seemed so imjKJSsible in his sister's judgment came to pass. Mr. North made a formal proposal of marriage to Miss Lockhart, and was rejected. Her refusal was firm and decided ; but on the other hand, it was given with evident emotion ; seeing which, North took heart of grace, and, in concluding the interview, spoke hopefully of a different result in the future. "I shall plead my cause again, Miss Lockhart ; I deserve my present failure, because in my eagerness I have spoken too soon." "I wish I could persuade you that my answer is quite final," replied Miss Lockhart, with a distress of manner that was in strong j opposition to the tranquil confidence of his j tones and mien. "You must indeed go away and forget me." "Forget you !" he turned, in a voice trem- j ulous with earnestness. "My darling, I shall j never forget you while the world stands." Moving her head from side to side as though j seeking some visible refuge in which to hide [ her distress, she stood in silence for a fewmin-1 utes while her companion awaited her next j words with an impatient anxiety. "If you only knew it. I am unworthy of your ; least regard ; of a moment's interest !" she | said at length, with a cry of anguish. "Put j me out of your thoughts, give me no place in I I ........ La.m.*- 5? "l?o offor ! ST- ! ' JWUI Ill'clll. Diiu i v ouuitvt^ ui-vvi ?% ? , | lence. "I do not want you to hate me, but i j you must forget me. And let this interview ! ' be our last meeting,'' she added in a broken ! | voice. Then giving one quick, deprecatory i ! glance into his face, which pain and trouble ! i were beginning to darken, Marion stole from I I the room. 1 CHAPTER IV. Avoiding the drawing-room with its cheer-> i ful atmosphere of light and music, Mr. North I chose to pass the evening of that momentous : i day alone in the library, an apartment little ! ! affected by any member of that unstudious I 1 household. Long he sat there immersed in ; ! thought reviewing the events of the afternoon, j : A sanguine man by nature, and desperately j j anxious for success in this matter, he was not | very loth to give up the hope of winning Marion Lockhart for his wife ; yet the conviction would force itself upon his mind that her refusal was, as she had declared, final. An interruption came at length in the shape of a light tap at the door, startling North in the midst of his gloomy reflections. "Come in," he called out impatiently. Thereupon the handle of the door was softly turned ; the door itself was next pushed wide an<" 2arefully closed and latched; and then Noith raised his eyes to see who the intruder j on his sad solitude might be. Immediately a ! great change came over his countenance and ! a smile sprang to his lips, j His visitor was his own fair beloved, lookI ing lovelier even than her wont as she advanced with a slight flush of crimson on each cheek and her slender fingers interlacing themselves in a palpable embarrassment. Observing her expression and hesitation, Mr. North came to a happy conclusion in his own mind, and going forward took her tenderly by the hand. She made 110 resistance ; but, whatever the saying she had come to deliver, it did not seem easy of utterance, for although her lips parted once or twice; 110 sound came from them. "You mistook your own feelings this morning," cried North at length in the face of her silence, his voice subdued, joy thrilling in every tone. "You have come to tell me that you are going to bless me with some morsel of hope." "I should hardly come to tell you that," answered Marion, giving a faint smile under the sense of amusement that some trifle will often furnish in the midst of deep suffering. "I beg your pardon ; I thought that perhaps oi your goouness you wimiicu to uc.-nu>v a crumb of comfort upon me before I went away," said North with the meekness of great love. "No, it is nothing of that nature," Miss Lock hart made reply, sinking in the chair that North placed for her. "But I have come to inform you of a fact, because to do so is the only atonement I can make you. And I pray," added she, momentarily lifting her sad eyes to Heaven, "I pray the confession made may undo the consequences of my sin. I have nothing else left to hope and pray for." "What have you to tell me?" demanded North hoarsely. But the blow had virtually fallen. North already knew from her countenance and her words, by some sure instinct he felt that Marion Lockhart's mission, be it what it might, was the nature to seperate them wide as the east from the west. "I am married; that is what I came to say," said Marion ; and as soon as she had spoken she hid her face in her handkerchief without waiting to see the effect of her communication upon her lover. "What ?" shouted he. "What do you tell me ?" "I am already married," repeated Marion in a broken voice of infinite weariness and sadness. Talbot North grasped her by the shoulder; he almost shook her in his bewilderment. "Do you know what you are saying ? You tell me that you are married V" , "It is the simple truth ; I was married some years ago." "Good heavens! all is indeed over," groaned i North. 1 After that there was a pause. . The young man was wrestling witli the anguish of his wound in absolute stillness; which Marion : only stirred at intervals to wipe the tears that J were coursing down her cheeks. 1 The suspeuse was becoming intolerable to ] Marion, and at last she rose to end the inter- < view. But her movement aroused North who had hitherto remained, his head supported on ^ his arm, motionless against the mantelpiece, j She had looked for some harsh speech, words of contempt, hatred; but the face that he | now turned towards her was a severer pun ishment than any reproach his lips could have j uttered. She gazed at him in stricken amazement ; it seemed as though years of suffering must have passed over his head to have altered | his features so greatly. "Why did I never know this before ?" asked he huskily. "Why have you kept it secret ?" ^ "Mine is a very unhappy story," answered Marion, with quivering lips. "When I was j vera vnnnfr t made a most unfortunate mar- . riage; my husband proved utterly unkind, * unworthy; and after a few months I left him. * Wishing to put it out of his power to trace me, I took my second name, that of Lockhart. I have never seen nor heard of him since." "Is my sister aware of these circumstances ?" ".She knows nothing," answered Marion, a streak of crimson Hashing across the pallor of her cheek. "Some times, whileMrs. Montagu has treated me with such confidence and kindness, I have felt myself a kind of impostor. But I often forget?perhaps you can hardly , believe it?but I forget that I have any other ! name than that of Lockhart I have been very ' happy here," she added with a sigh. \ "Poor child!" breathed Mr. North softly. "Shall you inform Mrs. Montagu of this? . Will it be right to do so ?" asked Marion a little anxiously, after a pause of silence and a , painful reflection on the part of both. "What sort of .? man do you take me to be ? No, your secret u safo, so far as I am concerned." J "Have I done very wrong ?" inquired Marion again after a brief hesitation. "We are not able to be judges of one another," answered North, a certain gentleness tempering the gravity of his manner and ' words. "But you have done harm. Do you * not see, child, that your putting yourself in a false position works evil by putting men like myself in a false position also ?" 1 "Will you forgive me?" she asked timidly. . "And will you not forget me?" 1 "I forgive you ; forget you 1 never can. It I must be my lot to love you while life lasts." "Oh, hush! 1 am too greatly punished. But it is not true; happiness may yet be in * store for you?" ' "Stay !" cried North interrupting her stern- c ly; "say nothing of the kind. I never breath- f ed the word love to any woman before and I never shall again. I loved you and must con- 1 tinue now to love you to the end." i t CHAPTER V. t "Well, good-bye and good luck to you! ' Mind you get the appointment," said Mr. Montagu to Talbot the following morning, f prior to the departure of the latter for London, whither he was going 011 business. ( "Thanks; but I have changed my mind as to settling in England : I intend to return to India." As he made the announcement, North saw 3 Miss Lockhart start violently, then her eyes 1 met his in one burning gaze in which their 1 very souls met, and the truth was confessed. 1 From that moment North knew that her life 1 was no less wrecked than his own, that the ' parting was no less grievous to her than to ( him : and he could not have told whether the ' knowledge were more bitter or more sweet. j; "Nonsense, we shan't let you go abroad j} again," said his brother-in-law lightly, for he I k did not attach much consequence to North's j< remark, treating it as a mere momentary ex- * pression of perversity. Only Marion Lockhart 5 understood the serious purpose underlying his j words. ] "Of course not," said Mrs. Montagu, in i echo to her husband. "Well, we shall see ( you back this day week; you are going no i farther than London, f suppose V" j "And into Kent," responded North, in a i { somewhat absent tone of voice. 11 "Kent what takes you there V" inquired ' 1 Mrs. Montagu in some surprise. j t "It is only on some business of other peo-1 pie's replied North in a tone that did not in- i vite further questioning. And a few minutes j 1 later a servant announced that the dog-cart | ] was at the door, and the young man was borne ;; swiftly away. ji It was a characteristic of Talbot North that i 1 he attended in the first place to the business ; which he had declared to be that of other j; people. lTpon his arrival in London he de-! 1 laved only to take a nasiy niiicneoii ai. nits i hotel and to write one or two letters, and then ' driving to Charing Cross, he took rail once ] more. j As the train drew near to the small village J of Rnshford, its destination, North pulled a ; < small Hat parcel out of the breast pocket of J his coat. Examining the seals to make sure ' i that they were intact, he carfully read the address written legibly on one side of the par- i eel, and then replacing it in its former recep- ( taele, fell to considering how he could best discharge the mission with which he was < fraught. This was conveying to the wife th intelligence of the death of her husband. Tin event had taken place in a foreign land sonn twelve months before, and North had gatheree that a coldness and sepeparation had existe< between the wedded pair; but the dews o death were already gathering fast over thi sick man's brow when he, Mr. North, the onl; European within reach, had been called to th< bedside, and, to ease the mind of the dyiiif stranger, had undertaken threharge of seek ing out his wife and imparting the intelligence of her loss. At length North was about t( discharge the melancholy trust, and for all hf knew the news might call forth the bitteresi regret and anguish. Mr. North went staignt to the post-omce, a: tlie most likely in which to discover the ad dress of Mrs. Milman. It was at the sam< time an emporium for the sale of drapery, and the whole force of the mercantile estal> lishment, as well as the entire body of hei Majesty's officials, drew near to listen to Mr, North's inquiries. No such person as Mrs, Millman was known. "She was a Miss Wilson," explained North, by way of assisting the memories of these Rushford people. "Oh! Miss Wil?onf She left here yean ago ; went a way wdfa her mother died." "l)o you know of any one who was intimate with her, who could give me her present address V" A great shaking of heads attested the general ignorance. "This is strange," muttered North, "verj strange." Rut the matter had altogether very little interest for him ; so giving up the quest, he took the next train back to town, where, he put into the hands of a private inquiry office the business of discovering the lady who had so mysteriously disappeared. The task was a very small one for those accomplished gentlemen. Upon the morning of the fourth day, as North sat at breakfast in the coffee-room of his hotel, a note was given him containing all necessary particulars, The missing person had been traced, her past employment and history learned, and hei present address was furnished for Mr. North's further purposes, in accordance with his request. The effect of this letter upon North was remarkable; he sprang up from his chair: first, the color rushed into his face, then as snrlilpiilv rpt.rpntpfl, leavincr his countenance pale and set; and the letter almost dropped from his nerveless fingers, while his eyes fixed themselves upon vacancy. It was fortunate that he happened to be alone in the room. At last, calling for his bill, North made some pretext of completing his breakfast; but his apatite was gone with his tranquility, and five minutes later he rose and quitted the hotel. At three o'clock upon that same afternoon he was walking up the avenue to his sister's house at Freshfield, trying to resolve a difficulty which had just presented itself to his mind?that of accounting to his family for his sudden appearance again in their circle. This was a gordian knot which he utterly failed to undo, but which was cut for him in one moment by the servant who opened the door. "Master and mistress have gone from home, sir; they will not be back till sometime tomorrow," said that functionary, in some distress over his ill timed arrival, and quite expecting Mr. North to be overwhelmed with vexation. On the contrary, Mr. North /received the tidings with cheerful resignation, and at once inquired for Miss Lockhart. "I have sent for you because I have something of importance to communicate," said North to her, as soon as Marion had joined Slim in the drawing-room. "Something of importance to communicate!" echoed Marion,.with the vague alarm :hat often seized her. "Will you tell me luiekly 7" "Sit down," said Xorth, gently, taking her ;rembling hand, and leading her to a low easyihair ; then seating himself nearly opposite to ler he resumed : I only want now to ask one )f two questions. Do you mind telling me four present name ?" She strove to answer, but for a time her luivering lips seemed as though they would efuse their office. At length only a single void was audible. "Millman." "That before ??I mean your maiden name." "Marion Lockhart Wilson." "Exactly. I only wished to be sure of making no mistake." The sad eyes of the poor frightened girl isked the one question her tongue could not )ut; his motive of making these inquiries, tforth lost no time in replying to the glance nore pathetic than words. "I have a trust to fulfill; when I undertook 11 thought I should have been in England nuch earlier than has been the case, otherwise [ should have endeavored to attend to the natter by other means than a i>ersonal inter;iew; I must express my regret for my delay, ibout twelve months ago I was up country, a ong distance from Bombay, surveying in a vild and lonesome district, when I was fetch:d to see a sick person, an Englisman. Illness vill do its work sharply in that climate ; fourmd-twenty hours will often see the beginning tnd the end, and I now found this stranger at he point of death." Sir. Xorth paused; but he saw by Marion's ace that the conclusion was half-divined. "Go on," whispered she, the breath comng and going lietween her parted lips. That >erson was?" "Henry Mill man." North had almost expected her to faint or all to weeping; but Marion did neither. Her lead drooped back against the chair and she dosed her eyes for a moment in silent thought >r prayer. "Did he suffer much ?" she murmered at ength. "No doubt he had suffered great pain," answered North," ever straightforward and ruthful whatever the temptation to the country might be. "But by the time I reached lim lie was fast lasping into unconsciousness." "Did he?did he speak at all about?religion ?"she asked next, hesitatingly. "I read a psalm and said a prayer at his lesire." "Had he 110 message to send me ?" "The power of speech was "beginning to eave him when I saw him ; he took thought, ,'ou perceive for the news of his death to each you. He was just able to give me the lecessary names and one or two bare particuars, which I at once took down in writing. [11 this packet," continued North, placing in ler hands a small sealed parcel, "you will find me or two articles, and the precise date of lis death, place of burial, and so forth. Be issured that everything was as thoroughly ittended to as his friends could possibly defire," concluded the young man, without adling that it was of his care and at his expense fiiat all this had been done for the destitute stranger. She rose from her seat to leave the room. North attended lier to the door, and, opening t, waited for her to pass through ; but before loing so Marion turned round, and, her grattude shining out through her wet eyes, she said simply any softly : "Thank you for your joodness to him, I thank you from the bot.0111 of my heart. I suspect your kindness vas even more and greater than you have old me." The next moment Talbot North was alone. Before there was a chance of Miss Lockout's heing down the next morning, or Mrs. Montagu's return, Talbot North had left Igaili. MI'S. ivontagu was 111 despair at navng missed her favorite brother's brief visit; >iit a letter which she received from himself i little while later brought consolation, for it uinounced that he had abandoned the idea of returning to India, and was making prepara;ions for settling in England. "He must have been offered a splendid aplointment to alter his plans so greatly," said Mrs. Montagu, sagely. And her husband was about to indorse this jpinion, when he chanced to catch sight of Miss Lockhart's face, illumined with a tender, oseate glow. "There is the true cause of the change," laid he to himself. "We are to have a wedling." And Mr. Montagu was right, both in his onclusions and his prophecy. I Ipscritawuis Reading. J ! THE BATTLE OF THE TEAMSTERS" J f . t B BY MAJOR JAMES F. IIAKT. ^ 3 [From the Charleston Weekly News.] k ? Late in the afternoon of July 4, 1863, orders j| came to the Confederate commanders in front i of the heights at Gettysburg to take up the } line of march to the Potomac. The three pre' vious days had witnessed a struggle for the t mastery of those heights with which history P affords few parallels, but on the fourth day r i the two hostile armies sullenly faced each oth- P * er, with only here and there a random gun, or h an occasional rattling tire from the picket b lines, when some movement on the one side or s the other provoked it. TIIE GHASTLY BATTLEFIELD was apparently in repose. Under the alterna- ? ting July sun and showers the fetid odors from v decaying corpses of men and animals had be- v ? come almost insufferable to men accustomed n to such scenes. The dead lay in shallow graves , under the low mounds that flecked the hillsides . and plains below, as far as the eye could reach, > but the carcasses of artillery and other horses . by the hundred, and even the carcasses of cattle that were grazing in the peaceful valley . when the first shock of battle came, lay in ^ swollen heaps far and near. Broken gun-carr riages, small arms of every description, some shattered by bullets, canteens, soldiers' blankets and jackets lay near the little mounds where those who had used them had fallen. . The plain was ploughed at places in great furrows, torn open by shell from the enemy's bat- lj [ teries in the terrific combat of the previous day, when three hundred pieces of artillery blazed at each other to aid or prevent Pickett's | final charge. Altogether it was a typical bat- ? ! tlefiled?one that neither pen nor pencil can ^ j paint, ana uiat nappuy tew arc ever tne eyewitnesses of. THE MARCHING ORDERS ' were received by the Confederate troops with i surprise. Although they had failed after ^ three days' struggle to carry the heights and p sweep Meade back towards Washington, they ^ i did not doubt that Lee would yet find a way n ; for them over or around the rocky ridge upon S( < which the Union troops had so firmly stood a during the three days' conflict. As dark set 1 in that evening long lines of wagons, disabled n I artillery and ambulances with the wounded, a i moved out by the little village of Cashtown g and on the turnpike road through South Moun- n tain towards Chambersburg. The rain fell all t. night in drenching sluices, softening the roads ^ until they soon became almost impassable. ? The escort to guard this train, which was fifteen miles in length, consisted of the remnants of Imboden's and Hampton's Cavalry brigades, w and Hart's Battery of horse artillery. Thear- ai ray moved by a different route, following the n roads on the east side of the South Mountain ^ through Emmettsburg and towards Harjier's ^ Ferry. The trains, therefore, were considered ? comparatively safe, especially as the mountain range was a further barrier for their protec- ei tion. The entire escort consisted probably of not over 1,000 cavalry, 200 infantry and 150 ^ artillerists. AT -MIE POTOMAC. j?: At daylight oaohe morning of the 5th the p] last wagon had passed into the defile, and the ri escort began its tedious march, covering its vv flanks and rear. It would be useless to re- si count the events of the inaich, how every now and then a marauding squadron of Federal k cavalry would dash in at some cross-road and fa attack the helpless train, generally with tern- if porary success, until driven off by a rally of h< the escort, until after weary marching and hi SKirmisning, wnn uie ram sun tuning, me last of the train reached the Potomac at the little town of Williamsport, a little after noon on the Gth. Here it had been stopped by the " swollen river, which had become impassable. " The cavalry escort commanded by Gen. er Young had halted some ten miles back to ^ picket the roads leading in from the Upper 9' Potomac. The regiment of infantry, a part of tli Imboden's cavalry, and the artillery, moved cc with the rear of the train to the hills north j1J of and overlooking the town. Stuart, with the main body of our cavalry was supposed to be covering the flanks and rear of the army w which, east of the mountain, was leisurely moving towards the lower fords of the Potom- H ac. So, as we could not move on, we stopped j>a to wait and to sleep. But we did not have ** long to indulge in either. About an hour af- or ter halting the enemy's cavalry were reported Pl as coming in heavy columns from towards m Hagerstown. Our little force of organized companies was hastily strung out over the hills, in a thin skirmish line, to oppose them. ' * KILPATRICK'S SWOOP. JJj It was Kilpatrick at the head of the Federal cavalry?at least six to eight thousand strong?who had dodged Stuart by cutting through a pass in South Mountain, and was now gazing down on the richest prize a caval- m ry leader could aspire to?the wagon and oid- to nance trains of a whole army. di Gen. Imboden disposed his little force by th placing his cavalry?some three hundred possi- ca bly?on the right, and Smith's infantry regi- di ment of about two hundred men, in the cen- M tre, near the Ilagerstown road, while my bat- rij tery of artillery occupied the left of the road. Li If Kilpatrick had pressed on as soon as he en reached this little line, he might have crushed tii it in a few minutes, and had a wagon for every fig two men in his command. But he paused to survey his prize and feel the strength of the defence. He dismounted his troops, threw out 0f skirmishers, and when his preparations were w, completed moved steadily upon us. ' THE ATTACK Y was met with firmness, but it was perfectly ca evident that our little force, on open ground, ev as it was, would soon melt away under the ter- It ritic fire that began to pour upon it. And even eq if it could have withstood the fire, our force ar was too small to cover the ground on the front, di and it was very certain the enemy could go be around, if not over us, and possess himself of si< the vast acreage of wagon train packed in be- av hind us down to the river banks. But a new nc factor entered into the problem which had m seemed so nearly solved. Every wagon and a; ambulance train of course had its teamsters. True, they were not armed, but there were the wl immense trains filled with guns, whose gallant nc bearers were sleeping under the little mounds m we had left at Gettysburg ; ammunition was equally abundant, and why not equip this new force and strengthen our fragile line with it V 11 flrkn Tmlwlon uunmc +n hflVP antpfl T)rOTTlT)tlV Wi upon this impulse, and officers and men were ha sent back to gather from the wagons all the lit recruits that could be had, almost as soon as the enemy comes in sight. G< COMPANY 0. "it Besides the teamsters, the trains had a miscellaneous following. Quartermasters and commissaries with their clerks, army chaplains ^ and officers' servants, made a goodly part of . it. Then the immense ambulance train con- ^ tained a large number of the wounded from jL Gettysburg, who could bear being moved, as ? also the surgeons, nurses, &c., &c., accompa- . , nying them. Then came that nondescript or- ^ ganization dubbed all through the army k "Company Q," composed of recruits from all arms of the service. They were generally patriotic men, who thought fighting necessary, aj, and had each been in one battle or a part of j' ' one at some time or other during the war, but i jever thereafter battles were devoid of attrac-1 tion ni' linvoltu In thorn TllPVf'ntlld SCPIlt the i signs afar with the accuracy with which the | -j weather bureau foretells a storm ; and on such j . occasion the cavalryman would have a lame or j sore-backed horse, and the infantryman blis- i r tered feet or some distressing ailment that! , sorely puzzled the surgeons to diagnose, but j the result was generally to swell the ranks of r Company "Q." j st) CORNERED FOR ONCE. ! .j < Hut Company Q was cornered on this occa-1 fig ' sion. The river was an impassable torrent in | in: I front, and Kilpatrick with six or eight thou- j be j sand picked horsemen was closing up on the i lai ! rear, and within musket shot. A few essayed the river, but were swept away by the current, ta Q was prompt in an emergency, and lie was w< none the less so now that a great emergency mi was upon him. lie decided to fight. He bad w; lot fought to any great extent through patriitism or love of excitement, but a wagon was . different thing. It was next to home and he fireside to him, and he decided to fight for lis wagon at all events. So along with the eamsters, and commissary and quartermaser staff, surgeons and chaplains, came Q with , force and unanimity surprising to those who ;new his ways and weaknesses. The enemy ad not more than fairly closed on our original ine before these recruits came along in bunchs of dozens or more at a time to reinforce it. HEROIC JOHN NEWTON. The enemy made their first attack on that art of our line to the right of the Hagerstown oad, and at first pressed it back by their overowering numbers. A section of the Washigton Artillery of New Orleans, which had een sent back disabled, with the wagon train, uffered heavily here, and its guns were at one irae almost unmanned. Recruits coming up rom the wagons, went to the pieces and forked gallantly to help the little detachment. >n the left of this road the attack was not so igorous, and we held the ground easily enough, fith the aid of the teamsters and the "Q" len. Sergeant John Newton, at Hart's Battery, ad been placed in charge of the wagon train f the battery, and was with it near the river rhen the light began. He left the wagons nd hurried to the front at the first gun. Mising his own command, he came upon the feele Louisiana Battery, and at once took charge f one of its guns. There for half an hour he ommanded and encouraged the feeble detachlent until he fell cut in two by a shell. The smnant of brave Louisianians, touched by is conspicuous gallantry, tenderly buried him fter the fight, and adopted appropriate resoluions to his memory, which were forwarded to s the next morning. No more earnest patriot ave his life to "the Lost Cause" than this allant son of Erin who fell among strangers f an unrecorded but not inglorious battle, 'he waters of the Potomac will chant a reuiem over no more heroic dust than fills this nknown grave. A FIGHTING CHAPLAIN? Shortly after the fight began an officer, with lie insignia of a captain, reported to me for a lace with the left. I put him in command of a luad that had just preceded him, and was loving into position. His coolness, selfqiossjssion and daring soon attracted attention nd his command was rapidly enlarged, liter the battle was over I inquired his ame, and he answered for himself, saying: "I m Manning Brown, chaplain of the Second outh Carolina Cavalry." Many a later battle light have had different results if the batilions had been commanded by such men as lie Eev. Manning Brown of the Methodist Ipiscopal Church. KILPATKICK. ras determined, however, that so rich a prey 3 Lee's whole transportation service should ot escape him, and about 4 o'clock P. M. lade a terrific onslaught on the right and jntre with dismounted cavalry and artillery, en. Imboden sent a message to the left for elp; but while we had a solid line of wagonrs there, and were holding our own easily lough, it was a matter of some difficulty to etermine how to handle such a disorganized ady as a reinforcing column. It was solved y advancing our left against the enemy's ght as the surest way of relieving our hard ressed comrades ; away over the hills to the ght the firing was heaviest. The wagoners ent forward in splendid style, and the enemy owly fell back before them. They had just jgan to believe that they were going to whip iilpatrick, notwithstanding the odds in his ivor. As for advantage in numbers, I doubt he had much at this part of the fight; but 3 had organized troops, which we didn't ive. THE REPULSE AND RETREAT. The fire on our right began to slacken as le left advanced. About this time we heard le rattling of musketry to the rear of tire lemy's right, and his retreat was observed a w minutes later all along the line. The illant Young, of our escort, in command of ie remnant of Hampton's old brigade, had ime in on the Mercersburg road, and was immering their right and rear opposite our ft. Then the wagoners knew that Kilpatck was whipped. We,pressed forward until e met Young, the enemy oozing from bereen the two forces on the road towards agerstowu. It was now near dusk, and the ittle had lasted since 2 o'clock. There had ien glory enough won, and neither the waglers nor Company "Q" felt any desire to 1 irsue Kilpatrick's horsemen in search of ore. The wagons were safe and the teaniers went back to feed their mules, and talk mr the wonderful victory; and Company J" sought shelter from the drizzling rain, ider the grateful cover of a wagon, where s repose was undisturbed for the remainder that night. STUART AFTER KILLPATRICK. But Kilpatrick had blundered on another ishap. lie had retreated towards Ilagerswn, about four miles from the scene of his scomfiture, and just as the advance reached iat place it met Stuart, with the Confederate ,valry, coming to look him up. lie had sappeared from Stuart's front, east of South ountain, the previous night, and it was ghtly surmised that he was tracking up ee's trains. Stuart followed, not quick lough for the relief of the wagons, but in me to deal him a heavy blow in a running 1 jht in the direction of Boonsboro' that night. AN UNRECORDED BATTLE. Such is an imperfect sketch merely of one the numerous unwritten battles of the late J nr. As many men were engaged in it, per- , tps, as in any battle of the revolution except (' orktown. Yet it will never become histori1 because it was so overshadowed by greater ents that it seems insignificant beside them. , furnished instances of valor and devotion j ual to those of any contest during the war, id as a success its importance will not be sputed. But it can never have a history, cause the participants on the Confederate le were mostly strangers to each other, , vay from their proper commands, or were . m-combatants who had less aspiration for j ilitary glory, than for the comforts inside of good covered wagon. But they fought a gallant fight that day? lioHior nutiiutoH hv rrlnrv nr wucrnns T know 1 >t?and I offer this humble tribute to the ( emory of those who fell there. In a conversation with Gen. Imboden, whom accidentally met after the above article was ritten, he has furnished me some facts that id previously escaped my attention, and I :re append the result of the interview. Gen. Imboden was specially detailed by \ en. Lee at Gettysburg on the morning of the h of July to conduct to Virginia the wagon ain and prisoners captured. The force giv- ; i him was, all told, about 2,100 men. These ' ere to guard the wagon trains, as well as ; me 5,000 Federal prisoners captured at Getsburg, to the Virginia Valley by the safest urse west of the Blue Ridge. Oapt. Eschel- < an's Battery of the New Orleans Washing- ( n Artillery, which had been disabled at Get- ] sburg, Hart's Battery and one gun from Pe- i ura's Battery, constituted the artillery of | e escort. ] Gen. Kilpatrick's force, as stated by him- ] If, was sixteen regiments of cavalry, con- i sting of his own and Gen. Buford's com- ( ands united, and three six gun batteries of < use artillery, making a total force of some- ( ing over 7,000 men. ; The Confederate escort of 2,100 men was ? vided as I have stated?Young, command- 1 g Hampton's shatttered remnant, being ten iles back, while a laree detachment from iboden's force in Williamsport was necessa- 1 y detained to guard the prisoners during e action. Gen. Imboden estimates the total mfederate force engaged, including teamjrs, wounded men, stragglers and staff, at IKK). Kilpatrick reported the day after the ht that he had attacked a division of Lee?s fantry consisting of 10,000 men, and had en compelled to withdraw before a much rger force than his own. Our loss was heavy but never fully ascerined. In the organized commands there ?re about 150 killed and wounded. How any fell who came into the fight from the ignn trains cannot be told. PHASES OP THE INDIAN QUESTION. The Black Hills country was included in the treaty of 18G8, with the Sioux, by which the territory "lying between the northern boundary of Nebraska and the forty-sixth parallel, and bounded on the east by the Missouri, and west by the one hundred and fourth degree of west longitude, together with the reservations then existing 011 the east side of the Missouri, was set apart for the absolute and undisturbed use and occupation of the Sioux for their permanent home." In 1874 General Custer's exploring expedition visited the Black Hills, and in 1875 a scientific expedition under Professor "Walter P. Jenney, accompanied by a military escort. Colonel Richard I. Bodge, of the United States army. These expeditions disclosed the fact that the Black Hills country, rich in mines, timber, and grazing, was unused by the Indians in whose reservation the territory was situated. After them whites poured into the country, against the orders of General Crook, whose troops were too few in number to keep them out, and when once in, it was impossible to dislodge them. In the fall of 1875 a council was assembled at Red Cloud Agency to negotiate the purchase of the country, but concluded without making any arrangements with the Indians, who became restless, depredations followed, the disaffected left the agencies and joined in what has become known as the "Sitting Bull movement," and the war of 1870, led by Crazy Horse and other Sioux chiefs, resulted in the subduing of the tribes then on the war-path. In the meanwhile the Black Hills had been rapidly settled, rich mines had been found, towns built, counties organized, and thonsands of people had made homes in the hills. There have been many estimates of the number of Indians that were, in 1700, in what we now know as the United States, but none are satisfactory. Indeed, even now estimates of their number vary widely, the census of 1870 placing them at about 850,000, while others offer estimates which show that the Indian population is about 200,000. The more moderate place the number in the neighborhood of 275,000 or 280,000. Human Endurance in tiie Water.? Men and animals are able to sustain themselves for long distances, in the water, and would do so oftener were they not incapacitated, in regard to the former at least, by sheer terror, as well as complete ignorance of their real powers. Webb's wonderful endurance will never be forgotten. But there are other instances only less remarkable. Some years since the second mate of a ship fell overboard while in the act of hoisting a sail. It was blowing fresh ; the time was night, and the place some miles out on the stormy German ocean. The hardy fellow, nevertheless, managed to gain the English coast. Brock, with a dozen other pilots, was plying for fares by Yarmouth ; and as the main sheet was belayed, a sudden puff of wind upset the boat, when presently all perished except Brock himself, who from four in the afternoon of an October evening to one the next morning, swam thirteen miles before he was able to hail a vessel at anchor in the offing. Animals themselves are capable of swimming immense distaflces, although unable to rest by the way. A dog recently swam thirty miles in America to rejoin his master. A mule and a dog, washed overboard in the Bay of Biscay, have been known to make their way to the shore. A dog swam ashore at the Cape of Good Hope, with a 1 offnv ir? ifo TI*a a nk??> 4-^. All ilO 1UUU11J. XIIC U1CVY UL tuc aill?J IU which the dog belonged all perished, which they need not have done had they only ventured to tread water as the dog did. As a certain ship was laboringheavily in the trough of the sea, it was found needful in order to lighten the vessel, to throw some troop horses overboard. The poor things, my informant, a staff surgeon, told me, when they found themselves abandoned, faced round and swam for miles after the vessel. Remarkable Oatiis.?A few days ago, in England, a Parsee, being called as a witness, and refusing to be sworn either upon the Old or New Testament or the Koran, was permitted to bind his conscience by holding, openly in his hand a sacred relic, which he was accustomed to carry about his person, and thus take the oath. The judge at the same time remarked that, strictly speaking, a Parsee should be sworn holding the tail of a cow. Tyler, in his History of Oaths, says that Sir James Macintosh told him that at Bombay he once had a cow brought into court for tliis purpose. This would seem a good way to swear a milkman, but a Parsee ought to be sworn upon a grammar. The twelve judges, in Morgan's case, held that a Mahometan might swear upon the Koran. In Ormichuiul v. jbaker, it was held that a Gentoo might be sworn by touching the foot of one of his priets. In Eutrehman's case, it was settled that a broken China saucer is essential to a Chinaman's oath. The Israelite swears upon the Pentateuch or Old Testament, with covered head. The Bedouin grasps the middle tent I>ole and swears by the life of the tent and its owner. One form of swearing among the Scythians was by the royal heart. The Old National Pike.?When General Jackson, in 1829, journeyed from Nashville to Washington, to take his seat as President of the United States, he traveled by stage coach over the old national pike, that led over the Alleghanies. In the palmy days of coaching, no post road in the country did so large a business as this splendid old highway, which opened the West and the Southwest to the East. The wagons were so numerous that the leaders of one team had their noses in the trough at the end of the next wagon ahead of them ; and the coaches, drawn by four and six horses, dashed along at a rate that would have made an English coachman of the day mad with envy. Besides the coaches and wagons, there were gentlemen traveling singly on horseback, with all the accoutrements of their journey packed in saddle-bags, and there were immense droves of sheep and herds of cattle. Husbands and Wives.?A good husband makes a good wife. Some men can neither do without wives nor with them ; they are wretched alone in what is called single blessedness, and they make their homes miserable when they get married. They ate like Tompkin's dog, which could not bear to be loose, and howled when it was tied up. Happy bachelors are likely to be happy husbands, and a happy husband is the happiest of men. A well-matched couple carry a joyful life between them, as the two spies carried the cluster of Eschol. They are a brace of birds of Paradise. They multiply their joys by sharing them, and lessen their troubles by dividing them. This is line arithmetic. The wagon of care rolls lightly along as they pull together, and when it drags a little heavily, or there's a hitch anywhere, they love each other all the more, and so lighten the labor. Keep It to Yourself.?You have trouble, your feelings are injured, your husband is unkind, your wife frets, your home is not pleasant, your friends do not treat you fairly, and things in general do not move pleasantly. Well, what of it ? Keep it to yourself. A smouldering lire can be found and extinguished ; but when the coals are scattered, who can pick them up ? Bury your sorrow. The place for sad and distrusting things is under the ground. A cut linger is never benefitted by pulling off the plaster and exposing it tosomeoody's eye. Tie it up and let it alone. Charity covers a multitude of sins. Things thus covered are often covered without a scar, but 5nce published to meddling fripnds, there is no an/1 fn flm f rniililn flaar m?ir onucn IT noil it +#\ Jiiu IU iiiu iiuumt mtj iiuij wuuov. ii v?/ yourself. Troubles are transient, and when a sorrow is healed, what a comfort it is to say : ;'No one knew it until the trouble was over." Beautiful Simile.?A minister who had ost liis child. asked another minister to come ind preach for him. He came and told how he lived on one side of a river, and felt very little interest in the people on the other side, until liis daughter was married and went over there :o live, and then every morning he went to :he window and looked over that river, and :elt very much concerned about the town and ill the people there. "Now,'' said he, "I :hink, as this child has crossed another river, leaven will be much dearer than it ever was 3efore. Shall we not just let our hearts and iffections be set on the other side of the river ! It is but a step; it is but a vail: we shall soon ie in the other world."