The Darlington news. (Darlington, S.C.) 1875-1909, December 14, 1893, Image 3
•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»