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- %Wm _ ^ . . V- C . . - v ? . . *1 .. ? ' ISSUED SEMI-WEEKM .J????i.^ l. m. GRISTS sons. Publishers. [ J damilg Newspaper: Jfor the flromotion of th< political, Social, Agricultural and Commercial Jnterests o)f the $eople. ESTABLISHED 1855. YORKVILLE, S. C., TUESDAY, MARCH 13, 19Q(i. MO. 21. " I ?.. .? --- j?is?ws. nori Ihim tn ?niAM the Hrsiihtfui tmrwi of I ter. John had onlv twentv-four hours I jAt!w^t!Hustiso At,4s'ss^ I Pond Springs. some three miles away WKSE St f A Tale of the Revol Upper C ? W IT TV T> .u^y v * 11 -m. CHAPTER XXV?OovnmJED. Here he remained for the space of half an hour, an interval that was passed by him In the most distressing doubt and anxiety. The whole proceeding of the court boded 111 to him. The haste of his trial, the extraordinary nature of the charges, and the general unsympathlzing demeanor of the court Itself, only spoke to his mind as evidences of a concealed hostility, which sought to And a plausible pretext for making him a sacrifice to some private malevolence. He was therefore prepared to expect the worst when, at the close of the half hour, St. Jermyn entered his chamber. "I come, sir," said the officer, "to perform a melancholy duty. The court have Just concluded their deliberations." "And I am to De a sacrince iu men vengeance. Well, so be It! There was little need of deliberation in my case and they have soon despatched It," said Butler, with a bitter spirit, as he paced up and down his narrow chamber. "What favor have these, my impartial judges, vouchsafed to me in my last moment? Shall I die as a common felon, on a gibbet, or am I to meet a soldier's doom?" "That has been thought of," said St. Jermyn. "The commanding officer has no disposition to add unnecessary severity to your unhappy fate." "Thank God for that! and that the flies detailed for this service are to be drawn from the ranks of my enemies! I will face them as proudly as I have ever done on the field of battle. Leave me, sir; I have matters in my thoughts that require I should be alone." "Your time, I fear, is brief," said St. Jermyn. "The guard is already at hand to conduct you to the court, who only stay to pass sentence. I came therefore to break the unhappy news to you." "It Is no news to me." Interrupted Butler. "I could expect no other issue to the wicked designs by which I have been seized. This solemn show of a trial was only got up to give color to a murderous act which has been | long predetermined." At this moment, the heavy and regular tap of the drum struck at equal Intervals, and a mournful note from a fife. reached the prisoner's ear. "I come!" exclaimed Butler. "These fellows are practising their manual for an occasion In which they appear Impatient to act. One would think. Captain St. Jermyn." he added, with a smile of scorn, "that they needed but little practice to accomplish them for a ceremony which has of late, since his majesty has extended his merciful arm over this province, grown to be a familiar piece of military punctilio." St. Jermyn hastily fled from the room, and rushing out upon the grassplot where the guard was collected, cried out,? "Silence, you base and worthless knaves! Is it thus you would Insult the sufferings of an unfortunate enemy by drumming, under his very ear, your cursed death-notes. Strike but one note upon that drum again and I will have you up to the halberds." "The music did but try a flourish of the dead march." replied the sergeant of the guard; "they are a little rusty and seeing that the Whig officer?" "Another word, air, and you shall be sent to the provost marshal. Attend the prisoner." "I am here," said Butler, who had overheard this conversation, and had already descended to the door. With a mournful heart, though with a countenance that concealed his emotions under an air of proud defiance, he took his place In the ranks, and marched to the spot where the court were yet assembled. "A chair for the prisoner," said some of the Individuals present, with an officious alacrity to serve htm. "I would rather stand." replied Butler. "It Is my pleasure to hear the behests of my enemies In the attitude a soldier would choose to meet his foe In the field." "Mine Is a painful duty, Major Butler," said Innls rising, as he addressed the prisoner. "It Is to announce to you that, after a full and most Impartial trial. In which you have had the advantage of the freest examination of witnesses, and every favor accorded to you which the usages and customs of war allowed, you have been found guilty of two of the charges Imputed to you In the list with which you were furnished this morning. Notwithstanding the satisfactory testimony which was given In your behalf by the girl. Mary Musgrove. In relation to your conduct at the house of Adair, and however disposed the court were to abandon an accusation which thus seemed to be refuted, it has occurred to them, upon subsequent reflection, that, by your own confession?given, sir. permit me to say, with the frankness of a soldier?you came into this district in disguise and under false names, and thus enabled yourself to collect information relative to the condition of the royal forces, which it was doubtless your purpose to use to our detriment. The court, for a moment. might have led you to entertain ! hope that they were satisfied that in this charge you had been wronged. The simple, affecting, and no doubt, true, narrative made by the miller's daughter produced a momentary sensation that was too powerful to be combated. That narrative, however, does not relieve you from the effect of your own confessions, since both may be true, and the charge still remain unimpaired against you. "The offence of breaking your parole and infringing the terms of the capitulation of Charleston, is open to a legal doubt, and therefore, in tenderness to you. has not been pressed, although the court thinks, that the very circumstance of its doubtful character should have inculcated upon you the lOfi | lOlflSOfli a ???r utionary Struggle In * Carolina. F r KENNEDY. c necessity of the most scrupulous J| avoidance of ser\ice in the conquered u province. c "The last charge against you is fully proved. Not a word of counter ^ evidence has been offered. Strictly ? speaking, by the usages of war, this t! would not be an offence for the notice r of a military tribunal. The perpetra- n tors of it would be liable to such vindictive measures as the policy of the conqueror might" choose to adopt. That we have given you, therefore, the e benefit of an inquiry, you must regard as an act of grace, springing out of our g sincere desire to do you ample Justice, d The nature of the offence imputed and ti proved is such as, at this moment, tl every consideration of expediency de- o mands should be visited with exempla- tl ry punishment. The friends of the royal cause, wherever they may re- fi side, shall be protected from the wrath v of the rebel government; and we have v therefore, no scruple In saying, that c the attempt upon the person of Mr. o Philip Lindsay requires a signal retri- w button. But for this last act. the court li might have been induced to overlook b all your other trespasses. Upon this, h however there is no hesitation. p "Such being the state of facts ascertained by this tribunal, its function d ceases with its certificate of the truth tl of what has been proved before it. w The rest remains to me. Without the V form of an investigation, I might, as b the commanding officer of a corps on C detached service, and by virtue of special nnn-or fAnforrtxl nnnn me_ have o made up a private judgment In the ii case. I have forborne to do that, until, a by the sanction of a verdict of my si comrades, I might assure myself that g I acted on the clearest proofs. These ci have been rendered. bi "My order, therefore, is in accordance with the clear decision of the d; court,?and, speaking to a soldier, I t< use no unnecessary phrase of condo- y lence?that you be shot to death. Time ci presses on us and forbids delay. .You ei will be conducted to immediate execu- t) tlon. Major Frazer," he said turning tl to one of his officers, "to your discre- tl tion I commit this unpleasant duty." si Then, in a tone of private direction, he h added, "Let it be done without delay; w pomp and ceremony are out of place t? in such a matter. I wish to have it despatched at once," w "I would speak," said Butler, re- ii pressing the agitation of his feelings, and addressing Innis with a stern sol- gemnity, "not to Implore your mercy, nor to deprecate your sentence: even rr if I could stoop to such an act of sub- p mission I know my appeal would reach e your ears like the idle wind: but I have a private affairs to speak of." "They were better untold, sir," inter- w rupted Innis with an affected air of in- k difference. "I can listen to nothing it now. We have other business to think it of. These last requests and settlements of private affairs are always troublesome," he muttered in a tone it just audible to tne omcers suliiuiiis it near him; "they conjure up useless ,i, sympathies." w "I pray, you, sir," Interposed St. Jermyn. 01 "It is in vain. I cannot hear it," exclaimed the commander, evidently 0| struggling to shake from his mind an s uncomfortable weight. "These are wo- ^ man's request! God's mercy! Now e< does this differ from death upon the h field of battle? a soldier is always p ready. Ha! What have we here?" he tt exclaimed, as a trooper rode up to the t group. "Where are you from? What si news ?" si "A vldette from Rocky Mount," answered the horseman. "I am sent to ei Inform you that, yesterday, Sumpter u defeated three hundred of our people jt on the Catawba, and has made all that n were alive, prisoners, besides capturing ei fifty or sixty wagons of stores which e the detachment had under convoy for c Camden." si The first inquiries that followed this ]| communication related to Sumpter's j position, and especially whether he was n advancing towards this camp. V "He is still upon Catawba tending p northwards," replied the vidette. tl "Then we are free from danger," interrupted Innis. "I am stripping the tl feathers from a bird today that is e worth half of Sumpter's prize." he f, added, with a revengeful smile, to an % officer who stood by him. a During this interval, in which the s, commander of the post was engaged ti with the vidette. the guard had con- |< ducted the prisoner back to the house, y and Innis. freed from the restraint of t1 Rutler's presence, now gave way to the a expression of a savage exultation at s the power which the events of the c morning had given him, to inflict pun- s ishment upon one that he termed an ? audacious rebel. "The chances jumped well with us." he said, "when they enable us to season the joy of these ragged traitors, by so notable a deed as 1 the execution of one of their shrewdest emissaries. This fellow Butler has consideration amongst them, and fortune too: at least he had it but that has gone into better hands; and. to j say truth, he has a bold and mischiev- n ous spirit. The devil has instigated ( him to cross our path; he shall have ?l the devil's comfort for it. The whole J party taken did you say?"? t "Every man. sir." replied the vidette. t "How many men had this skulking c fellow. Suinpter, at his back?" t "They say about seven hundred." \ "And did the cowards strike to seven \ hundred rebels?" t "They were tangled with the wag- i ons." said the soldier, "and were set on s unawares, on the bank of the river, at I the lower ferry." t "Aye. that's the way. An ambus- i cade, no doubt?a piece of cowardly t bush-fighting. Fresh men against poor t devils worn down by long marching! \ Well, well. I have a good requital for i the rascally trick. Major Butler's \ blood will weigh heavy in the scale, or [ 1 am mistaken! Come, gentlemen, let word belt; it seems, rrom us aaaress, o contain matter of moment. How it ame here does not appear." " 'To Colonel Innls, or any other ofIcer commanding; a corps in his maesty's service.'" said Innis, reading: he superscriptions; "besides, here is omething significant, 'for life or death, vith speed.' What can this mean?" he idded as he broke open the paper and an his eyes hastily over the contents. 5t. George! here is something strange, :entlemen. Listen!? " 'By ill luck I have fallen into the mssession of the Whisrs. Thev have eceived intelligence of the capture of I rlajor Butler, and, apprehending that ome mischief might befall him, have onstrained me to inform you that my Ife will be made answerable for any larsh treatment that he may receive at s to quarters?we must hold a counII." "Here is a letter," said one of the oficers of the court, "which I have this loment found on the table, under my he hands of our friends. They are esolute men, and will certainly make ;ie the victim of their retaliation. Edgar St. Jermyn, Ensign of the 71st Regt. "P. S.?For God's sake respect this a per, and be leplent to the prlsonr... "Treason and forgery, paltry forery!" exclaimed Innis with a smile of erision, as he finished reading the leter. "What ho! tell Frazer to lead out he prisoner, and despatch him withut a moment's delay. So much for his shallow article!" "A base forgery." said one of the ofcers in attendance, "and doubtless the ;ork of the rebel major himself. He ill die with this" silly lie upon his onsclence. St. Jermyn here!" cried ut the same officer to the captain, ,-ho was now at some distance, "here 5 an attempt to put a trick upon us y a counterfeit of your brother's and, telling a most doleful and imrobable falsehood. Look at it." St. Jermyn read the letter, and sudenly turning pale exclaimed: "Sir, his is no trick. It Is my brother's own rrltlng. He is in the custody of the yhigs! How came this here? Who rought It? When was it written? 'an nobody tell me?" rut, St. jermyn!" tnterruptea tne fficer, smiling, "you surely cannot be nposed upon by such a device. Look t the scrawl again. In truth, are you lire of it. man?" he inquired with reat surprise, as he perceived the Inreasing paleness of St. Jermyn's row. "My brother's life is in imminent anger." replied St. Jermyn with inrnse earnestness. "Colonel Innis, as ou value my happiness, I entreat you, ountermand the o.-der for the prisonr's execution. I implore you, respect lis letter. It is genuine, and I dread ie consequences. My poor brother, le youngest of my family and the peclal darling of his parents! For eaven's sake good colonel, pause until e learn something more of this mys;rious business." "For your sake, my friend, and until e can investigate this matter," said' inis "let the execution be suspended." St. Jermyn Instantly hurried to the uard, to communicate the new order. "Whence comes this missive?" delanded Innis. "It has neither date nor lace described. Who brought it? id any one see the bearer?" he asked !oud of the bystanders. No one answered except the officer ho had first discovered the paper. "I now nothing more than what you see. was here upon the table. How long had been there I cannot tell." "It is strange," continued Innis. Can this young St. Jermyn have falm in with Sumpter? Or, after all is not an ingenious forgery which has ereived our friend, the cantain? Still. ho could have brought It here?" The letter was again examined by rery individual present. "It must be genuine." said one of the (fleers, shaking his head. "Captain t. Jermyn was very much in earnest, nd it is not likely he could be deceivi. It has been mysteriously deposited ere by some agent of the Whigs. The erson should be found, and compelled ) give us more specific information, his matter must be looked to; the enign, I doubt not, is in perilous circumtances." "Let the prisoner be strictly guard[3. and held to wait our future pleasre." said Innis. "I would not put In fopardy the young ensign's life. A -ward of twenty guineas shall be giv11 to any one who brings me the bearr of this letter. And you. Lieutenant onnelly, take thirty troopers and pour the country round to gain intelgence of this capture of Edgar St. ermyn. Be careful to examine every lan you meet, as to the presence of ^'hig parties in this district. Away istantly. and do not return without Idings of this singular event." The camp by this occurrence, was hrown into great bustle. The prlsonr was securely lodged in his former uarters, and placed under a double uard: consultations were held mongst the officers; and Butler himelf was strictly Interrogated In regard [> the appearance of this mysterious rdter of the contents of which he was et ignorant. The examination threw o light on the affair; and very soon fterwards, a troop of horse were seen allying beyond the limits of the amp. under Lieutenant Connelly, to eek information of the fate of Ensign >t. Jermyn. CHAPTER XXVI. "he Sergeant and His Comrade Project an Expedition Which Furnishes the Ensign an Opportunity of Enjoying the Picturesque. As soon as David Ramsay had departed with the maiden for Musgrove's nill. Robinson ordered his own and Christopher Shaw's horse to be sadlied. and another to be made ready for *t. Jermyn. His next care was to deermine upon a secure place of rerent?reflecting that the news of the apture of the ensign must soon reach he British posts, and that the country VOUItl Ut* lllUU?iriOUSI> rApwiru inum lew to his rescue. A spot known to he woodsmen of this region by the tame of the Devil's Ladder, which was iituuted in the defile of a mountain >rook that emptied into the Ennoree, iccurred to Christopher Shaw as the nost secret fastness within their each. This spot lay some twenty niles westward of Ramsay's, accessi>Ie by roads but little known, and sur outided by a district which grew more vild and rugged the nearer it aptroached the defile. Here it was supposed the party nilgai tirrive uy uayugiu mc ?<> morning, and remain for a few days small risk of discovery; and thith accordingly, it was resolved th should repair. This being settled, Horse Shoe n procured a supply of provisions fn Mistress Ramsay, and then proceed to arm himself with the sword and p tols of the ensign, whilst Christopl suspended across his body the swc of Goliath, as the sergeant called 1 brand he had snatched up at Blac 1 ? ? J ? * ? ? AAMIB mammamciIAM /I# r SIOCK M, fcWIU ai?U IUUIV. puoocooivil VI V of the captured muskets. "If It don't go against your cc science. Mistress Ramsay," said Hoi Shoe, when the preparations for < Journey were completed, "I would ta it as a favor, in case any lnterlop* mought happen to pop in upon you, you would just drop a hint that y have heard that Sumpter"s people h been seen about these parts. It woi have an amazing good bearing on t Tories. Besides making them wa how they strayed about the woods would be sure to put the bloodhoun on a wrong scent, if they shoi chance to be sarching for the you ensign. I know you women are a lit ticklish about a fib, but then it's honest trick of the war sometlm And. to make you easy about it, it v, be no more than the truth to say y did hear It?for you obsarve, I tell y so now." "But." replied the scrupulous m tron, "if they should ask me who tc me, what should I answer?" "Why," said the sergeant hesltatir "just out with it?tell 'em you hea it from one Horse Shoe Roblnso that'll not make the news the worst the point of credit. And be sure, go woman, above all things, to reml David, when he gets back tonigl that the rank and file, in our prls yonder, are not to be turned loose b fore three o'clock in the morning." This last caution was repeated Andy, who still performed the duty a sentinel at the door of the outhoui All things being now arranged f their departure, Ensign St. Jermyn w brought from the chamber where had been confined, and was Invited join the sergeant and Christopher supper before they left. This meal w ably and rapidly discussed oy t stout yeoman, and scarcely less hone ed by the prisoner, whom the tolls ai privations of the day had brought enjoyment of a good appetite. With many cheering and kind e presslons of encouragement from t sergeant, the young officer prepared comply with the demands of his ca tors, and was soon in readiness to a tend them. Robinson lifted him in his saddle with a grasp as light as he was dealing with a boy, and th bound him by the surcingle to t horse's back, whilst he offered a goo humored apology for the rigor of tl treatment. "It is not the most comfortable wi of riding Mr. Ensign," he said, witi chuckle; "but fast bind fast find, a'most an excellent good rule for traveler in the dark. I hope you doi think I take any pleasure in oncor moding you, but it Is my intention lead your horse by the rein tonigl and this friend of mine will keep in t rear. So, by way of a caution, I wou just signify to you that if you shou think of a playing a prank you w certainly bring some trouble upon yo head?as one or another of us wou in that case be obliged to fire. It nothing more than military punctiliu to give you a friendly warning this." "You might dispense with this seve Ity, I should think," replied the prl oner, "upon my pledge of honor tha will make no effort to escape." "I can take no pledge in the darl returned Horse Shoe; "dayllg mought maKe a difference. If i should happen to fall in with any your gangs I'm thinking a pled wouldn't come to much more than the way of your own people. Flesh weak, as the preacher says, and. to r mind, It Is a little the weaker wh the arm Is strong or the foot swl Temptation is at the bottom of i backsliding. No. no, Mr. Ensign, y< may get away, if you can; we'll ta care of you whilst we're able?that's simple understanding." Without further speech the par proceeded on their journey. Th traveled as rapidly as was consiste with the ease of the prisoner and t nature of the ground over which th had to move. For the first eight ten miles, their route lay across country with but few impedimen except such as arose from the unse sonable hour of the ride. After tl they found the toil and hazard of tra el continually increasing. They h been retreating from the settled cou try towards a rough wilderness, whi was penetrated only by an obscu road, so little beaten as to be scarce discernible in the faint starlight, a which it required all Christophe skill in woodcraft to follow. Our tra elers, consequently, often last th? way, and were obliged to get do\ from their horses and grope about ascertain the path. The stars h shone all night through a cloudle firmament, but the deep shade of t forest thickened around the wandt ers nnr! if was frenuenHv with (Iff cully, even that they could dlsce each other's figures. They reached at length the sm stream upon whose banks, some mil above, was situated the place to whl their steps were directed; and th were thus rendered more sure of thi road, as they had only to follow t ascending course of the brook. T delays and Impediments of the journ had nearly outrun the night a whilst our travelers were yet somet' or three miles from their destlnath the first traces of morning began appear in the east. The increasi light disclosed to them the nature the scenery around. A limpid rivu tumbled over a rocky channel, g with a profusion of brush and bri amongst which were scattered a tbo sand wild-flowers, that renovated the dew, threw forth a delicious p< fume. A succession of abrupt hil covered with the varied foliage of rich forest growth, bounded the bro on either side. Occasional rocks Jt ted above the heads of the travelers they wound along the paths, worn the wild cattle in the bottom of t dell. Both Robinson and Shaw had d mounted when they entered this def and whilst the former led the horse the prisoner his companion preced at the road, which frequently became sc er, obscure as to render It necessary t< ley seek a passage in the bed of th< stream. During all this progress Horst ow Shoe's good-nature and light-heartedam ness were unabated. He conversed led with the prisoner In the same terms ol Is- friendly familiarity that he did with ier Shaw, and neglected no attention thai >rd might in any degree relieve the lrk;he someness of St. Jermyn's necessary :k- thraldom. >ne That peculiar conformation of coun I try which had given rise to the name in- of the place to which they were conrse ducting the prisoner, was now to be ;he discerned at some little dlstanc ,ke ahead. It presented a series of bold ;rs crags of granite Intermixed with slate, if In which rock piled upon rock preou sented a succession of shelves, each ad beetling over Its base, and thus furild nlshlng a shelter against the weather he Some of these were situated near the ,ry bank of the stream, projecting over it watej whilst others towered at dlfferds ent ^eights, in such a manner as to lid bear a resemblance to a flight of huge ng steps! cut In the slope of the mountain, tie and by this likeness, doubtless, sugan gestlhg the Imaginative name by which e8< the f pot was known to the few hunrin ters to whom it was familiar. The ou cave: nllke structure of these ledges ou abouhdantly supplied the means of concealment to both men and horses, a_ fron> the casual notice of such persons ,ld as abcident might have brought Into this sequestered defile, jg When the party arrived at the foot rd of the Devil's Ladder, It was with n; great satisfaction to all that they now jn made a halt. A short time was spent od In selecting a spot, amongst the lmnd pending cliffs, of such a character as ht, might afford the advantage of shelter, on as well as the means of ready lookout ,e- andjescape In case of discovery or pursuit^ The place chosen was about to half' way up the hill, where the ridge of of ai promontory enabled the occupants ge. to see some distance up and down the or valley; whilst the crag Itself contained as within its recesses a chamber sufflhe ciently large for the purpose to which to it was to be applied. A natural platat form, near this point, allowed sufflas cient space for the horses, which might he be conducted there by a sidelong path ?r- up the slope; at the same time, the nd means of retreat were furnished by to the nature of the ground towards the top of the hill, x- To this place of security the ensign he was ordered by his guard, and being to released from his bonds, he dismountp fd and threw himself at length upon it- the mossy surface of the rock, where ito he lay wearied in body and dejected If in mind. The horses were taken in en charge by Shaw; provisions were prohe duced, and all arrangements of caution d- and comfort were made for passing the Us next two or three days in this wild sojourn. ay Here, for the present, we must leave i a o0? adventurers, to tell of other matis terp that are proper to be made known a to the reader of this history, a't In due. time David Ramsay returned n- from Musgrove's. Precisely at three to o'clock in the morning, the soldiers at, were released according to the terms he of the parole; and my reader will, no ild doubt, be pleased to hear that Andy, uems UIBCIIttlKCU IIUIII uuijr, nciu tu bed as drowsy as e'er a man of mould ur after a feat of glory, and slept with a ild sleep altogether worthy of his heroic is achievement. im The next day passed by, at Ramsay's of dwelling, with a varied and fearful Interest to his family. They had receivr ed Intelligence, before night, of the s- event of Butler's trial, and had reaso n 11 to rejoice that Mary Musgrove had so played her part in the delivery of the c." letter. They were apprised also of the ht reward that had been offered for the ve discovery of the bearer of this letter, of and were informed that detachments ge of horse were out to scour the country a In quest of the ensign. These tidings of filled them with apprehension. It ocis curred to Ramsay that if, perchance, ny the released prisoners should fall In en with any of the parties of the loyalft. its, they would of course, relate their all story, and thus bring down the full ou rancor of the Tory wrath upon his household?this would also lead with a more certainty to the pursuit of Horse Shoe. There was still good reason to hope that the liberated men might not ey so soon be able to give the alarm; Innt usmuch as they were more likely to ae shape their course towards Fort Nineey ty-Six than to repair to Innls' camp, or whf re they might be forced to do a duty, as much against their inclination as against their parole. They might a" even, from a natural aversion to labor, lls prefer loitering about the country rathv" er than put themselves voluntarily In aa the way of military operations. n" "Come what will of it," said Ram-<uy, summing up the chances for and ire against him; "I will be ready for the worst. Many better men have given n(* all they had to the cause of Independrs orw.o onh t will not flinch from eiving v" my share. They may burn and break ?'r down; but. thank Ood I have a counvn try?aye. and a heart and an arm to to stand by it!" ^ On the same evening:, towards sunss down, a horseman drew up his rein at Ramsay's door. He was young?In the r" prime of early manhood, his dress was that of a rustic, his equipment showed in him to be a traveler?a weary one, from the plight of his horse, and, like a" most travelers of the time, well arm'es ed. He did not stand to summon any one to the door, but put his hand upon ey the latch with eager haste, and entere'r ed with the familiarity of one acquainted with the place. Mistress Ramsay was seated at her spinning ey wheel, anxiously brooding over the nt* tales of the day. Her husband rewo cHned in his chair, silently and Jn" thoughtfully smoking his pipe. They *? both sprang up at once, as the visitor crossed the threshold, and with fer * *?- ? ? ?Iw.I? oAn Tnhn Ram let >,~"1 JU' Blcciru , . say. The household was clamorous irt with the affectionate salutations of the ar' parents of the brothers and sisters, 'U~ and of the domestics. John was the by eldest of Ramsay's children, and had IJ*. ' Just reached his paternal roof after an r'' absence of some months, during which . he had been In service with Sumpter, The gathering in of the members ol 1 " a family around the domestic board, QS in times of peril and distress, is one . ^ of the luxuries of the heart that in h0 peace we cannot know. The arrival jg_ of John Ramsay at the present mode m<>nt was a source of the liveliest happiness to his parents. They needed a cheerful as well as a resolute eomfor ) previous, left Sumpter near Roch ) Mount?immediately after the battle t s which the British convoy was won. K ? was sent with despatches to Col. Wi liams, a Whig partisan of note, who wt I now supposed to be in the neighborhoc f of the Saluda. These had some referent i to the military movements of the pai t ties; and John Ramsay was permitte by Sumter to make a short halt at h ' father's house. In the first hour after his arrival, li had given to the family the history < ! his homeward ride. He had discovere . that hostile forces?of which, until h > journey was nearly finished, he hear > nothing?were encamped In the neigh 1 borhood; that a court martial had bee , sitting for the trial of an American ol fleer, as a spy, and had condemne i him to be shot. He had been apprise* moreover, that small parties were ou , riding Into every corner of the countr; He himself had nearly been surprise by one of these, as he endeavored t make his way to the house of Alle i Musgrove where he had proposed t himself a visit, even before he cam , to his father's, but, fearing somethln wrong, he had fled from them, an i baffled their pursuit, although the had chased him more than a mile; h t had. In consequence, been deprived c i the opportunity of visiting the miller. ' "Although It Is four months sine we have seen you, John," said th i dame, with a tone of affectionate chid i ing, "yet, you would turn aside to g< under Allen Musgrove's roof, befot you thought of the arms of you mother." John's sunburnt cheek blushed crim son red as he replied: "It was but step out of the way, mother, and should not have stayed long. M Musgrove and his folks are safe an well, I hope, and Christopher?" "Tut, boy! speak It out, and don blush about it," interrupted the fathe briskly: "she Is a good girl, and yo needn't be ashamed to name her, a vou ought to have done, first and be fore all the rest. Mary Is well, Johi and has Just proved herself to be th best girl In the country." This little passage of mirth betwee the parents and their son, led to a fu narrative by David Ramsay of th events which had occurred In the las two or three days, concluding with th capture of the ensign, and the retrea of Horse Shoe and Christopher Sha^ to the Devil's Ladder. The communl cation wrought a grave and thoughtfi mood on the young soldier. It present ed a crisis to him for immediate ac tlon. He was wearied with a long rld( but It seemed to him to be no time fo rest. "Father," he said, after turning ove in his thoughts the intelligence he ha just received, "It was a brave an beautiful thing for so young a lad a Andy to do; and the taking of the en sign has served a useful purpose, bu It brings this house and lamlfy lnt danger. And I fear for poor Marj Christopher Shaw must get b uck t the mill, and quickly too. His aosenc will bring his uncle's family into trou ble. I will take Christopher's plac< and go to Horse Shoe's assistat ce thi night. We may take the prisom r wit us to Williams." "Tonight!" said the mother anxious ly, "you would not leave us tontgh John?" "Aye, tonight, wife," answered Dav is Ramsay, "the boy is right, there i no time to spare." "Have mercy upon us," excialme the dame; "to ride so far tonight, af ter so heavy a Journey, John!?yo have not strength." "Dear mother," said John, "thin that you are all in danger and tha Mary, who has behaved so well, mlgh be suspected, and brought to harm, must hurry forward to Colonel Wil Hams, and this road by the Devil" Ladder is far out of my way. No, ain not so much fatigued, mother, a vou suppose. I will rest for a fee hours and then try the woods. Day break. I warrant, shall not find me fa from Horse Shoe." John Ramsay was not above six an twenty. He was endued with a stou and manly rrame, well adapted to har service: and this was associated wit a bold and intelligent countenanci which, notwithstanding the dint c wind and weather, was handsome. H had for a year or two past been ac tively engaged in the war, and hi manners had. In consequence, acquire that maturity and decision which ar gt nerally found in those whose habit of life render them familiar with per lis. On the present occasion he re garded the necessity of co-operatlo with Robinson as so urgent, that n other thought crossed his mind bu that which belonged to the care of put ting himself in condition to make hi service effectual. With this view he now directed hi horse to be carefully tended; ther having taken a hearty meal, he retire to rest, desiring that he might b waked up at midnight, when he pro posed to follow the path of Horse Sho and his comrade. TO BE CONTINUED. FRESH BLOW AT DRUMMERS. Their Business Hurt by the Establish ment of Distributing Oentrss. "First it was the trusts and now 1 J-s the distributing centres that ar out against us," said tt drummei "The combines threw a lot of com merciai travelers out of their job and now they have devised the dis tributtng centres idea to make it sti more difficult for us to earn a llvini "The time was when all big manu racturing concerns seni traveling me all over the country. Into every crar ny and nook where sales might b , possible. Of course It made th traveling expenses enormous, an our commissions amounted to a ver satisfactory sum." "Now these same manufacturei , go on a hunt for what they call ceii tres and there they establish branch store, where their good's ar sold wholesale to the cities fo- mllf i around. For instance, where I use to go to all the towns of any consldei 1 able size in a certain state, now I g to only one third of them, for th distributing centres have taken m I Job. "In the larger cities these centre 1 have been established and the sma i merchants from the towns aroun come in to do their buying. Thes manufacturers are inducing the mei chants to come to them. Instead c > going to the merchants, and ther i seems to be satisfaction on hot , sides. "Of course It Is tough on the ma who has been a commercial travelc all his life and probably couldn succeed at any other Job, but it's Jus another proof that what Is a ne1 ' business method today Is antiquate tomorrow."?New York Sun. y zuipivmuiiuu? Ie ROMANCE OF GEN. WHEELER. 1 18 How the Confederate Hero Got Hit Wife. :e Ella Jones was In every way worthy Ul utflllK ult; WIIC ui SUUII a man ^ General Wheeler. She was a superior ls woman In every way and she and Gen. Wheeler were lovers from the time 16 they met till death called her from >r his side. Bom In a wealthy and cultured home, she had not only superior 18 advantages of excellent school train^ Ing, but she had the constant assoclatlon of a mother of remarkable Inteln llgence of mind and ability. Mrs. Jones was an Invalid and cond fined to her room during the years of her married life. Her great pleasure and diversion was her looks and she ]f' was considered one of the best read ^ women of her day. She bestowed the ? greatest attention on the education of n her daughter. At the age of twelve she ? was sent to a famous boarding school at ie Huatsvllle, Ala., In company with Miss e King, daughter of a wealthy merchant, 11 Mr. Robert King of Courtland. Col. y onel Jones could deny his daughter 18 nothing. He Indulged her every whim and mood. He was very proud of the beautiful and gifted girl. Miss Jones :e and Miss King were boarding in e Huntsvllle at the residence of Colonel Bradford. On one occasion. Colonel * Jones and Mr. King were visiting e their daughters in Huntsvllle. Mr. Ir King was making some moneyed arrangements for his daughter when Col. l" Bradford turned to Col. Jones and said, a "And now colonel, what can I do for * Miss Ella?" Colonel Jones answered r "Anything she wishes, Colonel Brad^ ford. If she requires you to have the court house moved, have It done and I draw on me for costs. If she wants 'r the town hall pulled down, have It u done at once and don't consider ihe s cost. If she wants you to feed all the " hungry children of the city and nation, Issue a call at once for supplies and e Iraw on me for the check. Whatever El'a wants she can have It." n It used to be said In Courtland that II It was a wonder Ella Wheeler was not e spoilt beyond redemption, but her sturdy father knew the stock from e which she came and the excellent lt mother who guided her. She was not v parvenu: her family had been rich for generations and she had been taught 11 by her good mother to value things of " the mind and heart more than costly Jewels and beautiful dresses. When she 3 was very young Ella Jones was mar"" ried to Col. Benjamin Sherrod, the wealthiest man In North Alabama. He r lived only a short time, and early In ^ the civil war he died and she was left ^ a beautiful widow with one child, a s little crippled boy?In fact, she was said to be the richest woman In Alait Vtn mn Tt ion In Uia V,nnrlnnlnni nf 1 flAI 170.il in. A V T? CIO All lilt l/tglilillllg U4 *UV1| ? shortly after his marriage and extenr' slve travels that the late Mr. George ? W. Points went to Lawrence county :e to visit his two brothers, who had plantations near Courtland. The war broke out, and his wife being In 1118 health, he purchased a beautiful sum^ mer residence, "Mountain Home," adJoining the Jones', afterward called the Wheeler estate. Mrs. Sherrod was then residing with her mother. C'donel Tom Jones was then at war. And now begins the romance of General Wheeler's 8 life?a little episode that does not figure In the generally known history ^ of the dashing cavalryman. General Rosecrans, with a large Federal army, u occupied Chattanooga and Major General Wheeler made a raid In his rear Is 'o cut off his supplies. These had to be hauled in wagons l* across the mountains. It was a famous * raid for material des'ructlon and 'asted for forty days. General Wheel8 er had the broad Tennessee river be1 tween him and the Confederate army 8 but he succeeded In cutting off the * Federals until In the language of their great historian. Draper, "distress ber gan to reign In their camps, the animals of the trains starved until there ^ were not horses enough to take a batlt tery Into action, and It became doubtd ful whether the national army could ^ ho!d Chattanooga much longer." Gen" eral Wheeler had had repeated confilets with the Federal cavalry. Once e the Federals pressed upon his small force to the number of about 13,000. 8 and for some days, whilst making his ^ retreat, he had to repulse them from e every hilltop until he forded the Ten8 nessee river. Having safely crossed the river, he made his headquarters at the home of Colonel Jones. It was here n that General Wheeler himself became ? a prisoner, not to the Federal army, 1 but to the beautiful young widow Sherrod. Her charm, her grace, her 8 vivacity, her devotion to her sick mother. her old father and her little crlp8 pled child made a great Impression up' on him. He was compelled to continue ^ his retreat, but the memory of Mrs. e Sherrod remained In his heart. Somehow or other the "Yankees" got an e 1 ikling of this and determined to have their revenge. A body of them crossed the Tennessee river and raided the Jones' home. They carried off Colonel Jones, and being told that there was an Invalid In the house, the wife of Colonel Jones, who had not been able to leave her bed for thirty years they It said that they would make her leave It, e and proceeded to set the house on fire, [j Mrs. Sherrod was vvlth her mother as is the flames were approaching and would i- not leave her and her helpless child. " The nearest home was that of Mr. G. W. Points, half a mile away, and n there, too the enemy encamped on the i- ground. Mrs. Points, who was in 111'* htaith and her young babe were at the d mercy of the destroyers, y They burned down the smoke house aud outhouses, destroyed the carriages, entered the house, cut all the clothes a Into threads, carried off the horses and ? provisions for man and beast and such slaves as would follow, and proceeded . next to the home of Mr. Swope, the o brother-in-law of Colonel Jones to cone tlnue their depredations. In the meany time those of the slaves of Mrs. Sherds rod who had remained faithful, gathII ered around their young mistress and ^ aided In rescuing Mrs. Jones from the burning home. Mrs. Sherrod had her if hr?rne to the residence of Mrs. Points, ? and accompanied her there with her 11 little cripple son, and here she remalnn ed a welcome guest almost to the close *r of the war. It was here that General Wheeler continued his attention to the w beautiful young widow, embracing d every opportunity that offered to visit her. When the battle was raging around he frequently visited the Point home and the mountain folks used to say Pond Springs and circumnavigating around the widow Sherrod." Many a time during the dark days when the poor Confederate army passed along the road from Courtland to Decatur, did the veterans camp upon the ground of Mr. Point's home and Mrs. Sherrod, afterward Mrs. Wheeler, Mrs. Points and her sisters, Mrs Odele Points ministered to their wants, giving the best that the home afforded to the defenders of their country. A sewing circle was also organized and the weaving, spinning and sewing for the soldiers was done and the soldiers were supplied as far as possible as the regiments passed "Mountain Home." When the war was over Mrs. Jones and Mrs. Sherrod returned to their beautiful home and In 1868, General Wheeler and Mrs. Sherrod were married. Shortly after the marriage little Benjamin Sherrod died and the mother Inherited his share of his fatherju estate. It was in 1868 also that General and Mrs. Wheeler visited New Orleans, stopping In the famous old square In Chart res street, between Port and St. Ferdinand, a section of the old Foumourg Marlgny, made famous by the residence of the Notts, Kennedys, Canonge and others. Mr. Points continued to have his summer home at Mountain Home for some years after, and General Wheeler and family resided In the old Jones homestead and the section took the name of Wheeler station, from the distinguished Confederate, whose presence honored It Gen. Wheeler began the practice of law In Courtland, returning home daily. In the meantime old Mrs. Jones, who had been an invalid for so many years, died and was Interred In the old family burying ground within the family estate. Following the beautiful old Virginia custom, General Wheeler sent around to Intimate friends the old family Bible, opened with a piece of crepe across the page marking Mrs. Jones' death. The family life of the Wheeler's was very beautiful. Mrs. Wheeler also early in her married life became an Invalid, and Gen. Wheeler was both father and mother to | the children. These children were Lucy. Louise, Annie Early, Julia. Knox. Joseph, Peyton and Tom FenI wlcke. General Wheeler was one of the kindest of fathers. Arm and loving, but he did not indulge his children foolishly. As an Instance, they had the most beautiful chlnaware In their home. A great deal of It was being broken unnecessarily, and wishing to teach his children to be careful In handling beautiful ware, he went to Courtland and purchased a number of tin plates and cups and these were used for quite a while In the home at breakfast, dinner and supper until no longer required. I*e was loved. by all of his neighbors. He led a pure and noble life, and his first great grief was the death of his wife. She was laid to rest in the old family burying ground among the trees and flowers she loved so well, and here a few years ago her son, Tom, who was drowned at Montauk Point, was laid to rest beside her. General Wheeler was Idolised by his children. His daughters looked upon him as the "Preux Chevalier sans peur et sans repreche." For many years after the war he represented the eighth congressional district of Alabama In congress, and It used to be said of him and during the time that he was such a dashing Confederate cavalryman, that he was "firmly -seated In his saddle." When the Spanish war broke out his daughter, Annie, enlisted as an army nurse In order to be near her father and nurse him in case of sickness or accident. The three other daughters followed her to Cuba and remained until the close of the war. V. ftnft oMMron tho death of their noble father falls as a terrible blow that time only can assuage.?Nashville Banner. PARIS TO TIMBUKTU. Train* to Run Now to Edge of Sahara Desert. In August next, regular steam communication is to be opened between the Atlantic port of Dakar, in Senegal, and the famous town of Timbuktu near the Niger, on the southern edge of the Sahara desert. Any globe trotter who desires may make the Journey, and if he connects closely with the river and railroad systems leading from the Atlantic to the great northern bend of the Niger, he will be landed at Timbuktu In nineteen days after putting out of the railway station in Paris. It is enough to make African Rip Van Winkles rub their eyes after the sleep of ages, and the white races will look upon the achievement as one of the wonders of the year. Two little steamers have been sent from France, the last appliances needed to open these new facilities for A -? T'rtrtU ansnmmn. iraiiH(Jurutuuii. uii;m iioo datlons for fifty passengers and can carry fifty tons of freight. They will ply on the Niger between Kullkoro. the terminus of the railroad now In operation from Kayes, on the Senegal river, and Ansonga. a distance by river of a little over 800 miles. So Timbuktu will be only a way station on the route, for Its port Is only about 600 miles from Kullkoro. The steamers are expected to reach the Niger in March or April, and some months will be required to put them together, install the machinery, and make the final preparations for starting the regular steam service between France and Ansonga, The service will not be put into operatlon until August The estimated time between Paris and Timbuktu has been announced. From Paris to Bordeaux, one day; from Bordeaux to Dakar, by th? French Messagerles Mart times, eight days; from Dakar to St Louis, at the mouth of the Senegal river, one day; from St. Louis to Kayes, from Kayes to Kulikoro on the Niger, through the forested region between the Senegal and Niger river systems, two days; from Kulikoro to Timbuktu, by Niger steamers, four days; total, nineteen days. So the Journey from Europe will be made In safety and with many of the comforts of modern transportation, and the trip may be made In fewer days than the pioneers required months, as they pushed on their tollsome way. at the peril of their lives, over the desert sands or through the African Jungle.?New York Sun.