ELSEY FARM.

Auckland Star, Volume XIX, Issue 145, 20 June 1888, Page 6

ELSEY FARM.

HOW IT WAS LOST AND WON

BY DAVID R, LOCKE

CHAPTER XIII.

THE END OF THE DRAMA—HOW JAMES POL-

LARD WON ELSEY FARM FOR ITS RIGHTFUL

OWNERS,

The eventful day had arrived. The month of grace that Mary Elsey had stipulated for had passed by, aud the morning of the1 day had come that was to make her the wife of John Cassidy.

She had hoped that something Mould transpire that would release her from a fate that she dreaded more than death, but no hand had been extended to l.scue her. Hor father had really urged her to the marriage, and regarded ib as a very proper thing, and the only word she had had from Pollard was to the effect that she should carry out her agreement and depend npon him. • Depend upon him for what? It she married Cassidy what was there that he could rescue her from . ' I-will do it,' she said to herself. J3ut, thank God, I only agreed to marry him—l did nob a_ree to live.' To put off the dreaded moment as long as possible, she had stipulated that the ceremony should be performed at her own home, in the evening at eight o'clock. ' Then we shall take the eight and ahalf train for the east,' said Cassidy. 'Asyou please,' was the only reply that was audible; bub the thought passed through her mind : ' A leap from the tr^in will do as well as poison.' Eight o'clock came. The house was crowded with guests, for so John Cassidy desired, and Mr and Mrs Elsey acquiescing, Mary offered no opposition. Cassidy was anxious that the affair should bo as brilliant as possible, and, to that end, he had invited all the leading families of the country. He intended from this time out to take a position socially in tho community —to acquire a standing quite different from that of earlier year.. In short, Mr Cassidy proposed to bo the great man of that community, and the grandeur of his wedding was to be first step in that direction. At precisely eight o'clock, the bride and bridegroom made their appearance. Cassidy's face wore an expression of triumph which ho did nob attempt to conceal. This was the end of years of scheming and plotting, and a glorious ending ib was. Ho had now all thab he had played for. Mary Elsey his wife ; Elsey Farm hers, only in name, for he would control it; beauty, grace, refinement, and intelligence in a wile, wealth unlimited and social position assured ! John Cassidy was exultant, as he had a rierhb to be. And he was not a little proud of the fact that he had won all this in the face of difficulties that, to anyone'else, would have been insurmountable.: Bates, James Pollard, Mary Elsey, all, all against him, and he had met them, ono by one, and conquered them. How he exulted as he thought of the trick by which he acquired possession as he thought of silencing his rival and his outwitting Pollard ! There was no man living who entertained so comfortable an opinion oi himself as did John Cassidy thab nighb. Mary Elsey' was on his arm, She shuddered ab every step she took, for there was something in the very touch of the man that shocked and disgusted her. 'A deathly pallor overspread her face, and there was a \yildqesa in her ey,es that was fearful to look upon. The pair, with tho usual retinue, approached the clergyman, who stood awaiting them. The questions were asked, the responses made, and John Cassidy and Mary Elsey were man and wife. Ab bhis moment, the hall door was flung violently open, and two men, dirty and travel-Stained, entered the room. John Cassidy started as thqugh a ghost had appeared" to him, and dropping the hand of his new wife, sprang backward with a wild, frightened look. Mary Elsey uttered a wild shriek, and fell fainting into bhe arms of Paul Babes, while Bollard, fixing his eyes on Cassidy, paused a moment. Cassidy became himself a moment, and stepping quickly to where Bates was supporting the inanimate form of Mary, he seized her arm with the exclamation :

' It is my duty, sir, to care for this lady. She is my wife.' -Wife or no wife,' exclaimed Bates, throwing him away from her, ' touch her at your peril. Li the sight of heaven she is not your wife. Stand back, you scoundrel—stand back !'

'■ I have something to say to this man,' exclaimed Pollard deliberately. ' I desire alt here to hear what I say, and note what I do. That scoundrel, that thief, that trickster, that despoiler of simple old men, and persecutor of helpless women, that—' ' Have Ino protection against these ruffians ?' shouted Cassidy, livid with passion, and with a strange foreboding of impending danger. *Amlto be insulted on an occasion like this by a fugitive from justice V

' That would-be-murderer,' resumed Pollard, 'has forced Mary Elsey into this marriage. He defrauded her father, as I well know, out of Elsey Farm. He hired a common cut-throat to kill the man she loved, he—' •Take care, Jim Pollard, take care,' iissed Cassidy. * I shall take care. lam past fear of anything. I shall take care that you do not reap the benefit of your scoundrelism. I shall take care that your fruit turns to aflhes. Listen, all. When this villain had, as he supposed, killed his rival, he followed the broken-hearted girl with threats of turning her mother and father, old and helpless as they are, into the streets —of taking her brothers and sisters from where she had placed them, and by such means compelled her to consent to marry him.: I was her only help, and through his machinations and my own folly, I could not be near her.'

By this time, Mary had recovered, and was listening in a wild way to what Pollard was saying.

-1 could only advise her. If she refused to marry him he held the wealth of Elsey Farm—l knew Cassidy so well that I ventured to advise her to kmotv him.'

' You ?' exclaimed Paul Bates. 'Yeas I. Nor did I let her know that you we living, for had she known that she never would have married him. But I tolcl her to require of him, prior to the marriage, a d< _d of Elsey Farm, which she did. El?ey Farm belongs now to Mary Elsey, or Mary Cassidy.' 'To what end is this recital.' sneered Cassidy. 'Mary Elsey ii- now Mary Cassidy —Elsey Farm, it is true, is hers, but— ' I tell this story to explain what 1 made up my mind to do. When hunted and hounded by you, as was Mary Elsey, I became a desperate man. Mary Elsey is your wife, John Cassidy; in. one minute she will bo your widow !' And, with the spring of a tiger, James Pol ad sprang at his throat. Bates started back. The reason for Pollard's action was plain to him. He knew now why he had been detained — why Pollard would not let him go to Brown helm till he could go with him—he saw why Pollard had so confidently assured him that he had it in his power to save Mary Elsey, and the farm as well. There was the wildest confusion. Down upon the floor went Cassidy, with Pollard's strong hands encircling his throat. * Let go my throat!' gasped Cassidy, - you are strangling me.' ' Release him !' exclaimed Bates, seizing Pollard. ' You shall net do this.' 'Do it! Do it !' was the stern reply, * a thousand men, each with the strength of a Goliath, could not tear this carrion from hi 3 grasp. Stand back.' He looked fiercely into the face of the man whose life he was pressing out. A score of hands seized him, a score the body of Cassidy, but they might as well have attempted to tear the oak from the rocks around which it had wound its roots. Finally, Pollard, by a mighty effort, threw off the men who were upon him, and lifting the body of John Cassidy, dashed ib to the floor. - Now, you may do what you will with me,' he said ; ' my work is done.' ' My God, Pollard, what have you dono?' said Bates.

' I have put out Qf the way tho man who tried to kill you, who would have killed me. I have mado ib possible for you bo marry bhe woman you love, and—' A greab sob choked his utterance— ' I havo given happiness to tho only woman I ever loved, or ever shall love. Don'b speak bo me. Mary, 1 did bhis for you. You could nob love me, bub I never ceased to love you. You have now your own, and oan marry the man you love. Marry him— he is worthy of you. As for me, I shall be hanged. Well, ib is all lam good for, and I shall die wibh bhe consciousness of having done one good bhing.' Pollard mighb 'have escaped, for no one made a movement to arrest him. He insisbed upon having an officer sent for, to whom he surrendered himself.

Our story is well nigh ended. Some weeks a*ter tho death of Cassidy, Paul Bates and Mary Elsey were married quietly, and they immediately left bhe country wibh the entire family. Everything eonnecbed with the locality was distasteful to them. James Pollard was tried for murder, and, of course, convicted. In fact, he made no defence, for he seemed bo desire to die. During his trial Paul and Mary Bates were at his side all the time. By bhe intercession of these bwo friends, the sentence was commuted to imprisonment for life, and afterwards the two who owed him so much had the sabisfacbion of taking bo him a pardon in full.

They had little trouble to get it. After Cassidy's death, the man's life became public property, and the community looked leniently upon the man who had removed so accomplished a villain. His attempt upon Bates's life weighed heavily upon tho Governor, and in pardoning Pollard he only met the views of Brownlielm, and the men of the regiment in which Bates served. Indeed, the soldiers declared that if Pollard would always kill as judiciously, ib would be a pity to restrain him. Pollard disappeared, and those who know him in Pennsylvania knew him no more for ever. But Paul Bates and his wife received letters regularly from a certain James Agnew, in the far West, who was a successful cattle raiser, and a daring and bold Indian fighter. And, as James Agnew used to iusisb upon having a photograph taken of James Pollard Bates, bhe oldest child of Paul and Mary, on c. eh birthday of that promising boy, and forwarded to him, ib is probable thab James Agnew and James Pollard was one and tho same person. Additional assurance of this identity could have been found' in the letters 'written by Mary Bates to this James Agnew. For, whenever she spoke of her happiness, sho always coupled ib with the declaration bhab she owed ib all bo him, and thab so long as life lasted, she would remember him as her preserver. Thus was Elsey Farm lost, and thus was it won. THE END.