University of South Carolina Libraries
•fe’ CHAPTER XVI—Continued. “Will you state," interposed the law yer, “whether your object in this esca pade was to assist in the proposed cap ture of the burglars?” “No; I took no interest in that at all. I wished to see Henry Main waring." “For what purpose?" "I had been waiting, ever since he re- tmed home from abroad, to speak to him on a subject of importance to us •both," replied Sinfire, her cheeks and eyes glowing, while her voice augmented in volume and richness. “I had never found the opportunity that suited me. He did not suspect my intention; indeed he misinterpreted it, and at one time 1 thought of taking advantage of his mis take to accomplish what I wanted. But that course proved to be too difficult—I mean too revolting—and I gave it tip. And afterward something happened”— here, for the first and last time, her voice faltered somewhat—“something that almost made me decide to give it all up—give np all I had come so far to do and had promised to do—and to leave Cedarcliffe as suddenly as 1 came to it But then, when I remembered the wrong he had done, I said to myself that I would stay and not break my promise. So, when the ambush was planned, I knew that it would give me what I wanted. I could meet him. and then 1 conld ride back to the lake, and no one would know that we had met." .. . “Allow me a moment, madam,” inter posed the judge again. “The inference from your words is—the ostensible in ference—especially when viewed in con nection with the event which afterward , took place—that yon were acting with ^.deliberate design of waylaying Mr. Henry Mainwaring, and being armed of either compelling him to do some thing or to agree to somethiQg (we do not know what), or in case of his re fusal, 'or for whatever reason might seem to you sufficient, taking his life. 1 say this is an allowable inference from your words. Is it what you intended to convey?' “It was in my thoughts that I might take his life,” Sinfire answered, “but other things were also possible. 1 could not know what I should finally do nntil I had spoken to him and heard him speak. I think now that 1 should prob ably not have killed him, bnt then he is dead, and one feels more gently toward the dead." “Very well, madam,” replied the judge, scribbing some words on a paper and then scratching his chin with his -« penholder. “Yon may proceed." “1 have told nearly all," she said. “I searched for Henry Mainwaring. but I did not find him. I once canght sight of some one I thought was he, bnt it was his brother John. They most have al tered their original intention and watched in different places from those they had at first determined on. The body was found in a spot I had not looked in. At last, as the dawn began to break, I went back td the barn and saddled my horse and rode toward the lake. At that time the murder must have been done, and John Mainwaring and thb groom, after carrying the body to the house, had returned to the camp. And presently the wagon came np, and I joined the others, and they told me what had happened, bnt no one asked me how I chanced to be mounted and abroad so early. That is all.” "Pardon me, I have one more qtt«- tion to ask;*’ said the lawyer, who held the derringer In his hands. “I think yon said this pistol was in the same con dition as on that morning. Are yon aware that it has been discharged and that the shell of the cartridge still re mains in it?' i At this announcement John, whose face had lightened a little during the previous few moments, suddenly turned white and leaned heavily against the back of his chair. “Yea, I know that,” returned Sinfire quietly. “How do you account for it?” "As I was on my way back to the barn I saw a rabbit crossing the path, and I fired at it. It was the impulse of ' « moment, and I was sorry directly aft erward that I had killed the poor crea ture." “It was an impulse that may have fatal consequences for you, madam,” rejoined the lawyer* while a low muttering of discordant feeling ran through the room. “Your honor,” he continued, "we have treated this lady with every considera tion, and she has been allowed to take her own course in the story she has told. We-had witnesses ready to speak to sev eral points, bnt the cynical frankness which has characterised the greater part of the narrative to which yon have jnst listened renders their confirmation super fluous, while as for the conclusion of the tale, so manifestly artificial and ont of keeping with the reels ^ not, I think, carry any weight of convictionf with it. We have been told tfaatJhe witness had a motive for esimityand hatred against the deceas'd teaching hack to a period ankeoedent to her appearance in this caaunMritp. and her presentation of her self before ns as the offspring of sn nn consecrated onion, and therefore with ont recognised social status, justifies the inference-, that in whatever may have happened between her and* the deceased he was not the only or the chief one to blame. Be that as it may. she conceived a malignant purpose against him.” Why should I concern myself to re produce the fluent rigmarole uttered by this solemn legal fool? He spoke accord-: ing to his Hght, but his light was dark ness. He ended by proposing that Sin fire should be committed for trial, with out further ceremony, on the charge of the willful and premeditated murder of Henry Mainwaring, and it would doubt less have been so ordered if 1 had not arisen and stated that I wee prepared to make a deposition of the gravest impor tance, which would put a very different construction upon what had just bean heard. The judge accorded me permls- gtou to give my evidence in my own way. In accordance with what I had resolved upon the nlghj before I requested to be sworn, and when the oath had been ad ministered this is what I eaid: . . sXdaaatnnUBd ElotMh JftrJSa lauy wno nas jnst testmefl Has wlllfuir, laid herself open to a charge of which she is as innocent as I am myself. It is my business only to prove that she is in nocent of it, and that I shall do beyond any doubt. As to the account she gives of her origin, something of it I already knew or suspected, and also that she was hostile to my brother Henry, though the causes of that hostility I was content to conjecture. I never asked her and she never told me what they were. I soust reveal also what hitherto has been known only to her and myself—that 1 have loved this girl almost from the begin ning of our acquaintance, and in due time I had reason to believe that my love was returned. But no definite contract was made between ns, because it was first necessary that some conclusion should be reached in her relations with my brother. 1 did not know what she intended as to that, and she probably did not know herself. But on the night of which so much has been said we agreed to meet “My illness prevented me from taking part in the proposed ambush, and every thing was propitious. She could come to me without suspicion or peril, and we conld remain together many hours. Ac cordingly she left the camp at the lake before 10 o'clock and reached my rooms at 11. She was still with me when the groom c»!ue to announce the murder, and while he was with me she withdrew into the laboratory. She was still there when we brought back the body, and after my brother and the groom had de parted on their errand she helped me to lay ont the body, and she put upon his breast the opal ring which was the wit ness of his fault. Then at my advice she returned, as she has told yon, toward the camp until she met the returning party.” .While I was uttering these perjuries I looked neither at my brother nor at the lawyers, bnt straight at Sinfire. At first her eyes encountered mine, but presently she dropped them, and the flush in her cheeks faded and faded nntil even her lips were white. I was prepared to have her spring up and give me the lie, bnt she did not stir. She hardly seemed to breathe in her stillness. W hat she would say to me in private remained to be seen, but at least I should have saved her life, and inasmuch as her fair fame was al ready overshadowed by her relations with Henry she might recognize that my action was at worst the only possible means of clearing her from complicity with his murder. Nevertheless her utter undemonstrativeness made ma more un easy than any outbreak would have done. It was the sign of inward storm. Meanwhile the sensation produced among the listeners by my testimony was lively and ill suppressed. But I had not yet done. “I am fully aware,” 1 said, "that what I have told is a sorry tribute from a man to the woman that he loves, and I can only add—to show that I took no base advantage of the confidence she placed in me—that it is the purpose and pride of my life to make her mv wife. I wonld defend her with my life against the shad ow of dishonor, but I could not stand by and see her life endangered by some unknown villain’s crime. What she wonld have died rather than confess I have confessed for her against her will.” There was more to say, but it was never spoken. A calamity as terrible as it was eutfemeen interrupted the words for ever. No one apparently had thought of keeping an eye upon John while 1 was speaking. He bad been forgotten in the interest concentrated upon Sinfire and myself.- Suddenly, in the stillness of the crowded room, a sound burst out which I can liken only to the roar of an angry lion, and I was conscious that some one had sprang toward me. It was my brother. His face was deformed with passion. He screamed out some words that were too furious to be articulate. That he meant to kill me no one who saw him could doubt. There were two benchee between him and the wit ness box in which I stood. He cleared the first, bnt canght his foot on the back of the second and fell forward with a crash. Three or four men lifted him. His features were contracted. There was a quivering about his eyefirows, and his eyes closed, opened and otoeed again. “Don’t lay him down! He hasn't faint ed—it’s the heart!” I cried out, and in a moment I had got out of the box and was supporting his head against my shoulder. But he was beyond help. The strain upon the great organ of life dur ing the past 18 hours had been too se vere, and the violent emotion caused by Sinfire's deposition culminating in the rage kindled by my story, with the shock of bis fall, had dealt him his deathblow. I felt his pulse shiver beneath my finger and then stop. His head dropped for ward wtth a hoarse sigh. 1 laid him gently down on the bench and covered his face. CHAPTER XVU. Bo by these strokes of good fortune I am become heir of Cedarcliffe, and my dreams of power and felicity are within, my grasp. It is now three days since the scene in the courtroom. The perjury which I committed answered its purpose. After considerable discussion Sinfire was ac quitted, and Henry’s murderer still re mains unknown. Even Sinfire’s strong nerves were overthrown by the shock of John’s terrible death, and whether or not she had previously intended to chal lenge my testimony the let the time past by when she could have done so with effect Since then she has remain ed at Faxon's house, where bis wife waits upon her. But today I shall speak with her and learn her mind. What I have done-hat been done for her—that is my consolation. Even should she reject it, it will be a consolation still Were the past weeks still in the future, would I pursue the same course? Well, I cannot argue from what I am to what I was. Dp to the time when Sinfire ap peared my life had been all thought and (peculation, but so far as action was concerned only a dull level of monot onous routine—no memories, no antioi- iMttoiuk no avanta.. Than duriOKO&tf flxi lag summer I lived - througfiThe'ftfll height and depth of my nature. The action and passion of a lifetime were con centrated in that little space. The torch flamed nproyally for a moment, bnt now It flickers, and perhaps it will die ont. Indeed I feel an indifference stealing over me. Few terrors and few joys could quicken my pulses now. I have made trial of myself, sod the result is not very satisfactory. I thought I had in me the making of a great man, but a great man is great for a lifetime, not merely for an honr. 1 have cleared my way and am ready to begin my career, but now that all else is won the enterprise is lacking. Some men, it wonld seem, are mocked in their very creation. They feel within them the stirrings of what seems to be a mighty soul. They follow its dictates, and, behold! all that fine flame exhales away and leaves nothing bnt dust and ashes. It was but the specter of a mighty soul—a will-o'-the-wisp that tempts them to destruction. Yet there is one thing that can re animate me and perhaps stimulate me to fulfill the destiny I had imagined. If Sinfire gives herself to me, 1 am happy, 1 am in heaven, and the powers of hell shall not prevail against me. She is my lifeblood and the breath of my nostrils Who she is, whence she comes and for what end 1 know not, bnt she has made herself my earth and my heaven, my space, my fate. Will she vanish as she came? The sun sets and darkness falls, bnt anon the east is afire, and he comes again. Bnt upon the night of her depar ture—if she depart—no dawn will ever rise. I cannot feel any confidence or securi ty. She seems when 1 fix my thoughts upon her to be far off and still receding. 1 am crushed down by some nameless oppression of evil visions. The ghosts of my dead brothers seem to be lying in wait for me in the gloom. Bat Sinfire can rescue me; her soft white hand can save me. She is my god; I can look to no other. But if she fails me, what then? Well, there is still Baprani • ••••• [to n conn noted. | The Passion For Lamps. Some years ago it was the ambition of every housewife who gave the least heed to the esthetics of her household to have a chandelier. But it is so no more. As to the electric light, she wants none of it, excepting its identity be most care fully concealed. When she must use gas the pipes are made to creep up inside a dummy lamp or some contrivance by which the gas is made to appear what it is not. Not only has it come to pass that good form in honsehold belongings requires that artificial light shall be, or apiiears to be, a lamp or candle, but it is also required that they be provided with a fancy shade of some sort. In fact so important a place does the lampshade now occupy in the economy of things that the latest design is almost as much discussed as the last thing in fashionable frocks. Not only this, but these dainty and elaborate articles are imported in special forms which no one is permitted to copy. Fashion is also exacting as to the materials used. Cheap lace and ribbon spoil the effect~of the best design, and silk when it is not of the best looks abominably when the lamp is lighted. Paper shades are not as much the vogue as they were a year ago, al though they are still used.—New York Telegram. An Unlucky King. The king of the Belgians said to a friend of mine who asked him to stand godfather to an infant son, “I should feel delighted did I not feel in a vein of ill lack, and unlucky people should be avoided." He said to another person, “The world has no idea what an evil in fluence tracks me.” His sister Charlotte is a lunatic; he lost his son; he adopted his nephew, and he died also. The Princess Clementine, his daughter, has never got over the horror of seeing her governess perish in the fire at Laeken palace, which destroyed the building and numerous family relics, papers and treasures of all kinds. The tragedy of Meyerling was perhaps the greatest blow of all. One son-in-law perished in it, and the other came out of It a black sheep at the court of Austria. The Congo state is not what the king had hoped it was going to torn ont and has impover ished him. The burning of his papers in the Laeken fire has thrown his affairs in to disorder. It wonld now seem os though the crown were to go down in the hnrly burly of socialist revolution, and Belgium to be again the cock pit of France and Germany.—Paris Cor. Lon don Truth. PMpls With PacfcagM. The man who has the courage to bring home a dishpan or a roast of beef under bis arm ought to be either canonized or ostracized—society is not quits certain which—in view of his sublime pluck. This being true of a man, certainly ao woman would ever willingly be seen with so much as an onion in her hand. Yet some people seem to be devoid of the first principle of gentility in this re spect, for you will see them going com placently through the streets, with heads up, carrying wash boilers, coalhods, iron kettles, lamps, jugs of vinegar, kerosene cans, brooms, crockery ware, mope, clotheslines and heaven knows what not —some of these articles being totally de void of any wrappings or palUstions whatever. Bnt these are doubtless of the vulgar herd who car# not for etiquette at all—Kate Field'* Washington. Writing Friendly Letter*. Friendly letters should be full of de- tails, telling all the interesting Uttle facts ons friend would ask another if they conld sit down side by side to talk. Bits of news that seem very trivial to the sender are often welcomed ijrith joy by the recipient Do not grudge a little time and pains to keep those nearest and dearest to you in touch with your daily life, even though you are widely separat ed.—Ladies' Home Journal. A Singular Death. Perhaps the most remarkable death from fear was that of the Dutch painter, Pentman, who lived in the seventeenth century. One day ha went into a room full of anatomical subjects to sketch some death heads and skeletons fora pic ture he intended to paint. The weather was very sultry, and while sketching he fell asleep. He was aroused by bones dancing aroond him, and the skeletons suspended from the ceiling clashed to gether. In a fit of horror he threw himself out of the window, and though he sustained no serious injury and was Informed that a slight earthquake had caused the com motion among his ghastly surroundings he died in a few days in nervous tremor. —Washington Post* . . ■ CHRISTMHS GIFTS! This ig the Ye in* to Give Common-Sense Presents! BUY FURNITURE. Make Your Friends a Present that will Mate Their Home Comfortable! I will display a nice line of Wagons, Bicycles, Tri cycles and Velocipedes lor Children, as well as the more usetulljand substantial. Home Comforts for the older ones. Let me see you. - •^■P. S.—You will find me next to the Jail.'^a J. D. BHIRD The Darlington Shoe Store We are receiving daily our stock of Shoes for the Fall and Winter! [MEN’S, LADIES’, MISSES and CHILDREN’S] And beg an inspection of the same when in need of nice Footwear. Our stock is bought in large quantities direct from the very best manufacturers, which ensures new fresh goods, and we propose to sell them at a very small margin. We call special attention to our $3.00 Shoe for Men, made by U» ROCKLAND Company; genuine calf, Goodyear welt, all styles in congress and lace. Rubber Goods of every description, consisting of Mackintosh Garments for Ladies and Men, also a complete line of Rubber Shoes for Men, Bovs, Ladies, Misses and Children. We sell the MARVELR HBBER A PERFE D C E T D RUB B BER R * TRUNKS, VALISES, SATCHELS, UMBRELLaVaND SHOE FINDINGS OF EVERY DESCRIPTION. NEWEST STYLE HATS. Sepi4—4m TKToocIs rib SHNTH CLHUS’ Headquarters. MUM BOOK STORE. With much pleasure we partly enumerate a list of the articles to be found in our stock. Our line, usually very complete, is much larger and more varied this season than ever before, em bracing chiefly novelties of the American and Foreign markets. Wood. Leather. Metal. TOILET, MANICURE, ODOR, JEWEL, COMBINATION, SMOKER, CIGAR, GAME SETS, PHOTO CASES. TOILET AND HAND MIRRORS, GLOVES AND HANDKER CHIEFS, FRAMES, KNIFE AND FORK, PEPPER AND SALT, AFTER DINNER SPOONS, AUTOGRAPH, PHO TOGRAPH AND SCRAP ALBUMS, ALBUM EASELS, LAP TABLETS, PORT FOLIOS, TRAVELLING SETS, POC KET BOOKS, CARD CASES, PURSES, BILL BOOKS, LETTER CASES, PEN TRAVS, ASH RECEIVERS, INK STANDS, PAPER WEIGHTS, PAPER CUTTERS. BOOKLETS AND XMAS CARDS, CALENDARS. PRATER BOOKS AND HYMNALS, BIBLES, TESTAMENTS, M’LAUGHLZN’S BOOKS, GAMES AND BLOCKS, JUVENILE BOOKS, POEMS, TOYS, DOLLS, WAGONS, VELOCI PEDES, BICYCLES, TRICYCLES, VASES, AND CHINA GOODS OF EVERY DESCRIPTION. We are headquarters for School Books and School Supplies, and in every department may be found all the latest novelties that the market affords. Call and see. BOOK STORE. Nov 30—tiix IS NOW A complete line of every thing usual to a first-class Hardware Store. Also a full line of igticiU laplnts, Eipetn’ Sipfliet, Muq, Sim A.3STID TI3STWA.IVE, And will sell at the very lowest prices for cash. Tinning, Roofing &?lumbing Oct6—tf .A. BZPZBOI-A-I/rY. Insure Your Property WITH IF- E. Who represents the LAMEST FI 1IS1W MS 1TH TOD! Satisfaction Guaranteed. Represents Twelve First- class Companies. September 11,1890 A Profitable Investment. e following is self-explanatory: On the 14th day *f October, 1898, _ The we insured our lives in the Mutual Benefit' Life Insurance Company, of Newark, N. J., for $15,000. When our second premiums fell due, we re ceived over 26 per cent dividends on our money. We can safely say to all wanting insurance Oust this is the safest and most profitable and liberal company in the United States. “8. Marco, “I. Lkwknthal.” Call on G. W. YOUNG, Agent, Oar- ~ “ Oc5Hto _ Hngton, S. O. W. WITCOYER Wishes to inform the public that he has opened in the AL£XAKDER BUILDING next door to Sanders’ butcher shop, where he is prepared to pay the high est cash prices possible for all kinds of Country Produce aod Fun of all kinds, sueh as Mink*, Beeswax and Wool. paid for poultry, — produce. Highest price* pal eggs, and all country | Oli—8»