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FRANKLIN'S CONFESSION.

By Amelia Thomas. Old Franklin was dying. He had succumbed afc last to age ; but no disease troubled bim with paiu, no corporeal agony interfered with the mind's anxious gaze towards the unseen world into which he was so soon to enter. Gradually and quietly the body wasted in strength, and he might have expired as calmly as an infant, but that mental inquietude preyed upon him ; groans, which he did nofc make any effort to suppress, broke from his white lips, and his eyes had a troubled gaze, fearful to witness in a dying man. Miriam Franklin, his grandson's wife, was attending upon him, looking up every now and then from the needlework on which she was engaged. The sight of thafc troubled face made her long to hear her husband's footstep ; for she feared that death might come, and that she alone would be witness of the last hour. To her inexpressible relief, therefore, she heard Gideon's tread approaching the lodge, and hastening out, she begged him to come in quickly, for she feared longer to be alone with the old man. Thus urged, Gideon made no delay, and entering the small apartment wherfe his grandfather lay, he approached tho bed, and kindly enquired how he felt. " Nay, lad, I feel no difference since thee seesfc me this morning ; but something tells me I shall not see another sunset." ** Bufc, grandfather," replied tho young man encouragingly, "if thou feelesfc no worse, there may be yet many days before thee. " No, lad, no ; and I could go willingly, but that lam troubled in my mind Bufc I must nofc speak, or ill may come of it to those belonging to him. Lad Gideon, be warned by me, your old and dying grandfather ; never do anything that will burden your mind ;" — groans, fearful and deep, broke tl.e old man's utterance: — "50 years, and I see it all now as I did then." " Grandfather," said Gideon, " would it be any ease to your mind to talk to good Master Leppard from the rectory, our squire's son r 1 They say he has a rare good heart, and is truly a devout man, though he bufc young. You mind him, grandfather, don't you?— -him as is nephew to your old master, Squire Walter ?" " I mind him, yes, lad ; ay, his father was a good youth when Master Walter and I were both wild and evil in our doings. Bufc go, lad ; do as thou sayest ; ifc will ease my mind to tell the truth at last." Gideon hastened to find the young clergyman and mako known to him the condition of his grandfather, and the fact of his having some revelation to make of former deeds which sorely troubled his mind, and prevented his dying in peace. The dying man and his spiritual adviser were left together. The tragic story of fifty years before, the long-concealed burden on the old man's conscience, we will tell in our own words. Reginald Mowbrey and Walter Leppard were cousins, but they were differently circumstanced. Reginald was heir of Mowbrey Chase ; broad lands and hoarded wealth would be his in the future, and in the present he had all thafc falls to the lot of an heir : consideration, deference, and, as an only child, the engrossing love of his surviving parent. Gay, handsome, and ehivalric, he was entering on life's career ; the household servants worshipped him, and there was no peasant on the estate but wished well, and augured much good, to Master Reginald. He had no enemies, and many friends. More than this, he had won the heart of Annabel Ellice, tho beautiful daughter of a small squire, whose property was adjacent to Mowbrey. No, there was no cloud in his sky. Life was a dream, a dream of bliss ; there were sorrow and trouble in the world he knew ; there had been grief in his own home, when, while he was still a child, his eldest brother, who had gono forth in the morning to the hunt, a youth of gallant bearing, was brought back afc night a corpse. But this had happened when he was still so young thafc the impression made was evanescent, and he grew up to realise only unbroken happiness. His cousin Walter was son of a clergyman, who had married, with a very reluctant consent on the part of her friends, the sister of Reginald's father. Sho had lived a sad life in the dreary parsonage, with a husband of gloomy habits and taciturn manners ; became the mother of four boys ; and died when the eldest, Walter, was in his sixteenth year. Like his father, 'Walter was reserved and gloomy, and a dark and restless ambition was in the depths of his soul ; bufc, after all, youth has always its bright side, and naturally seeks companionship ; therefore it followed that, there being none others of equal rank in the neighborhood, Reginald and he were friends and companions, as well as cousins. But Walter had his way to make in life ; and hia uncle's influence having obtained him an appointment in the household of Lord Clarendon, then Lord Chancellor and Prime Minister, as well as adviser, of the lately restored King Charles, he proceeded to London, where he remained until the celebration ofßeginald's coming of age, when he was invited by his undo, Sir Roger, to be a guest at the Chase during the festivities which were to take place in honor of the heir's majority. He had now been three years resident in London, and had witnessed the struggle for power and place ; and the dark and gloomy side of his character had gathered strength from the conflict between his naturally ambitious cravings and the family circumstances and deficiency of pecuniary means which curbed and thwarted them. True ifc was, he had for patron a powerful and favored noble, but he was only one among many : there were numbers seeking like himself a name and a. place, bufc most of them were backed by relatives powerful afc Court, or at least by those with whom Clarendon wished to maintain friendship. Had ho been rich, he might have won his way to rank and power ; but he remembered that he was only the son of a country parson, in those days a despicable class. His uncle, Sir Roger Mowbrey, was indeed a magnate of the land, but his importance was local — he had no political or Court influence ; and it was only from remembrance of former friendship that he obtained from Lord Clarendon the attacheship which Walter now held. Brooding ou his own despondent thoughts, while still cherishing his ambitious hopes, his one-and-twentieth birthday arrived ; bufc for him there was no festive gatherings, none around him knew or cared for such a date. He had no loving mother or gentlo sister to send greetings of affection ; his father had died since he left home, and only one brother, still a schoolboy, remained to him. Bufc he was remembered, afc the Chase ; Reginald despatched a messenger with letters of kind congratulation from himself and Sir Roger, and a renewed invitation to Mowbrey for Reginald's birthday, which was only a month later than his own. The heart of tho young man was neither soothed nor softened by the receipt of these missives of affection ; on the contrary, a deeper concentration of bitterness, a deadlier ambition, fastened on his soul. He hated Reginald, who alone stood bei tween him and all that he coveted ; for the lands, though not the title of Mow-

f V^reyt^buidVbe ~h j4,i ■w^fc his jppusin _n.pt yyjj^efe .hem. V '. "_" ' ' * : V|V| '^ Vfair day; in the *' leafir "month of i % '.3uire»v. -.-; a sun. warm but - ? not : ;s cor eh ing, :a 7 i}ycepzey-hsAi^^^^i^^iiing:, ( •. Jjlessed •V y 7birtKday 7 f§§|t^^V^P^.-X^^9^4>!*' = when 7*j£theifc&Mes;(^^ _5. time) had- up£ '^elj^b^cqnie; 'places, of corii '•'.;-- ceaiment fo£^{i^ jpfps'traip, gqests , \vhen Vas .y efc free fyfgn. jpjtpxicatibb, visitors and 7 retainers ro|o ; t6.Hrlnk the young heir's :- : ;heiuM-h;^7;^; s s!^V^ : / ]„ V; V., --"■- .-. "Xt Was a 'sight -the care ful brow might smooth..; . , 7 V And .make,age : s*^le.?ij*d.Urpaiji itself to youth." . V There- was the glad father, proud of his handsome heir. > who, though not trained :> in courts, had from Jflature a graceful and' dignified bearing^ which, united as it was y. -with a sweefcj : _uavity of manner, made him •'.-V irresistably;^trtfcfcive ftp all ; who knew hin.. "•';-. __mo.h^tlie most Vhonbdred guests '- '-- w*ere Annabel -^his i betrothed, and "her faV ther, Squir_si?Emfe.yX'6f the GrangerwhoVwas as rejoicedstp seethe day'as-though hadibeeto fhts own sou ; and was, he not indeeSiSoba^b'Jbe'^ery-near to him in relationship, asiihexhad always ;been in 'affection ? i brutheatwb -fathers* had ever be-eii as brothers, and 'the; firm 'adherence of each to ish>rpya.li cause, iwheii^such adherence was i dangerous-/ h;tfd riveted the chains bf Wewrtfriehftship."'' The mutual love of theip children bad beeh-the crowning of their hopes, and for the young pair .: they lioped for. a, peaceful; bliss, which they themselves had [nptj known, «*. their, youth , 7 convulsed as the^times -had been in struggles between jth^rpyalist .and republican '; parties: - s^' -"^Vl, ';''■' ;..7 •■■' - ''...•''-.-.". ' But the s|^,b3sV. i spp'fcs,^aud, .unmarked, . this festive"^ gathering was looked upon with evil eye/,.. ..Walter Leppard had been for the kst'jwgek l&b Mpwbi'ey, and each day had added*; mpre7 rancour to his thoughts; hfr ha'd/<gjveu ; way to the. evil "_ impulses orhis^mirid,'an'd. : they had gained strength andl.vigpur^V /Circumstances , had given shape ,tb his dark; imaginings. 7 deririg--rilori&jtli£'d^ — -fofc ßeginald, had gone, to Ellice Grange ; —in a copsqVat^spme', little distance from the house, K|,iia4.tthjpwn himself at the foot of a tree., ' c tfn'd\ T was ,. listlessly, watching the clouds^fip^fc^ past. "'when, hearing a sound, he lbp£e t d upj and saw approaching a man of some, 'four-and-thirty years, who appeared to:^§,'|m^d with rage. '„ lfe raised jiisVclenchea lfis Vand rslibok ifc* wildly at the.empty air.rbis (ace was' inflamed with anger, and.^his,.' eyes,.. were- bloodshot and fierce.- As he*came, "nearer,. Walter could hear him ufc|er^'ihreafcefiings of revenge, .and oh hisVplbsgrapp^bach recognised a groom whom lie had "seen" when" he was last at the; village. hostelry.; . The man stopped whe^. "^e' .^^. Walter> and so furious was he7%e;young,inah almost; feared .him as he looked up and saw .the. passion - in his cpuntena^ce s .V.. m J =\ -.-""" Ay !" he"_;hjmdered put,. «' one of the V accursed race^thpugKhp's only a drivel--7 ling parson'k'sonV' '. -" \ . ' V But Walfjer,3iad. the family quality of .animal courage* Vah'd 'rising, as he heard these words,' he lobjced steadfastly at the enraged man,. whp in-his turn appeared. . : subdued by[th4 calminess of the- gentleman, whom he was abpjttt tp* curse and threaten, .and perhaps'malti-eat-""xou are , angry ,;iny, man," said Walter; " have' Voii: be'ent dismissed from the service of minprfiosfc of the Grange? and .why are yoij s,q furious with; "those of my ■■: race?''.- fry" . TV '".." ' . " Dismiss*e,d'_by.^iles Humfrey ! nay, he knows better/than. 'that; but an' he did dismiss me,7 > ihere' are plenty would be glad of WillVjEranklin in .their stables, ay, even Sir RogVif' himself, though his fine young heiivhas7done. me : so ill a service with Misfcrpss^Annabe.l. .Bufc I'll be revenged, that xjvill.", ; His anger was'agaih aboufc fco leap into action, when Walter said, catching at the sound — y" .";,,. 7 - "The heir, my' cousin Reginald, you mean, what' nariulias he done you ?" "Harm, nay rhe has dealt me the hardest blow I am ever like tp have. You haveu't been here, , Master Leppard, to hear the talk in the bufc Mistress Annabel's mai'drPliyllis, had given me her promise to .wedsme. next Martinmas, and we were well knipwh for sweethearts in all Mowbrey. whehrMa^ter f Reginald takes on him to tjell Misfcires.s Annabel that I had an all name, 'and [ha^ had a hand inthe drowning o|7 the Idiot :lad last year ; in the Flint strea_r|,; when I "were only', a. looker-' on." -../. And *w^y*" s shoiild7l_ -'prevent the people's spor-l? ;. that poor fool to anyone? /But, last evening, when I went to the, (grange,' thinking I should perhaps satiny -lass. ,sure enough she came to sppa^t6;me, but it were only to .-"--.: say she mu'sOaye no^morp'to^ say to me ; I were : not' tKe'inah .slid thought I was. And then slip' whimpered, and stammered, but she woh.derell'the ghost of poor Joyce didn t haun^.m^. ..„..'... V" But,'' mfcerrupie^' Walter, " how do -' you know itf^asihy, cousin who made reports of yoii?" UJ ~ ; " Ay, there it..is | no , one ; else would dare to siy'^nyfcfnji.^ of me, .they know me tPo well ; and i^hyliis, when' l pressed her to know whp"iia_.V(lbne r me the ill turn, grew frighfen6^, 'and fold "me ifc were Master Reginald, and she was sure he would say hpthing ill bf. any one, unless ifc Were true. ' '__tut."jfs I say, : and I; don't care . who hears m'4,'rll" haye my.' revenge, for all he's a gre^t' heir. /How would lie like any one to Com.e'between him and Mistress Annabel?" 7' 77' ' .-7 .;'. " . Had the; ; 'pf evil thoughts and hopes put oii bptlily appearance, and come to tempt "falter to evil act ? Some such idea crossed'his'imnd as he. looked' afc the man beforP h£m,V_eady for any deed thafc would gratify his vindictive feeling; aud his own covetous longing, for the possession of Mp^br|y .seemed to go hand in hand, with thb]' ! pedsant J s liisfc of revenge. '-.. \ What if this;man;,slevv Reginald, would he not then b^' M at i -i^ast'heir,' if; not, actual master of great ppss'eksibns'; and would he not then be iible to return to London, no longer dependent on the favour of a courtier; coulcL he not himself outgo the craftiest sfcatesinen in the game of diplomacy, andVwih; that political power he longed for? And; Annabel too, once Reginald Were removed,* might she not in. time be indtib^d to. transfer her affection to himself? ,;He had seen no London beauty liktflf^r, in her natural and unsoV^phisticafced.ipVyime,^ ; "she had been the object of his" boy ish preference three years 7 - before, andVbtit 'foi'; Reginald, she might have loved him f now.' : 7 '; .'.'.' , : : . 7 : yv^ith.th'e||;'th^ through V-7 ..his "brain, 7the~ vfaljr /£pung man, whilst •V -sebining 16' jnth . .t^fcjf •wt. "iwi*ath"bf the ' : yyye]^i<'6jdyjiulidj^M]^ f ?d it; so that V.V'-Vwlibh-.theyS^Wi tK^rfe was ;mqre of s_t''Xj- .l.d/h^trecf 'in^'ahkljhts' heart 5 towards V y^egvMSy?o&mi^putyardly he ; was l£-7-caMe'i7^^ . was, by his '- 3 : 6wn fepHhg&^ihe $aw;fciiafc -Walter Leppard V V^'G^y^'^^i'^^^^ 1^ any mis-'-V'?cMßf-lTOu^^j^^.;Mß'Aou B.n,' V '*■■ Ky^"^"-''^^-^^^:^^ Kflfeep growling V 77voice, "pai^-bid*' 1 s6n -w^ul'd/like;, me to "help him J^c-fMi^-W^y. ;' CiiaSe, and keep his own nect'safe^M^^hile/';' ;-V ' ' Dark an^j&itfcer ; vvas i^ths" conflict in the mind of th.P vpung man as ;he returned to the Chasa|^b^t; "bpfoVpflierentefed. it, his \-^nd..>wasr^tftte;'up_;-"'fiie bad "'considered £y^M^*o!^i&i/&Qti& .anything bap--77? Vpeh.'tp;^his pnly-sbi. V^Keliihdnessbf father ; '7Vp find; sph' tp^Mnsell.jiihe^ had 'put 'these ;in V;7VtheViic^e7mth^- bYH s plahsVof solfcagms^^^i^m^moy yhp_a%^;iihd -j

he had inclined the balance to himself. He' resolved. to compass Reginald's death in somo way which would nofc recoil upon himself; and what better means could he have than the vengeance of tho man from .whom he had just parted? Yes, ho would so .influence Franklin's passion, whilst he appeared not to do so, thafc, mad with rage, when Reginald crossed liis 'path ho would slay him. When his cousin was fishing in the secluded meadow through which the Flint ran, he would contrive that Franklin should come upon him, and .inthe combat for life, ho knew thafc the giant 'strength of tlio peasant would overcome the more feeble frame of the gentleman. Evil, indeed, then, were the eyes thafc looked on Reginald next day afc the festive gathering in his honour ; aud there was no relenting of his fell purpose in Walter Leppard's heart; nay, the very splendour of the scene, the costliness of all around, the rich velvet hangings embroidered with gold, the gorgeous hues of the satin- coverings of couch and chairs, the carved cabinets of ebony and ivory, the display of plate on the board, — all served .to urge him to his crime. All these might yet, and that before long, be his own. - Bufc not quite as heplannedit did things fall out. Will Franklin, always addicted to intemperance, drank furiously for days, and was now ill in bed from the effects of a blow his head had received in staggering against a low poat with swinging signboard. Enraged, bufc not deterred from his designed crime by this disappointment to his hopes, Walter, knowing bufc a few j days must elapse before ho must return to his duties in London, paced moodily the country round Mowbroy ; and while thus wandering, he came one morning on the body of a young man who lay dead at the foot of Guy's Cliff. The place was lonely ; human foot rarely trod the furze-grown waste jusfc below the cliff; bufc tho cliff, which was really a very high hill, was often travelled by pedlars or travelling showmen, as it shortened the road between fthe village and the next town. Evidently this young man had belonged to the latter cla^s. His hands bovo no signs of toil, his hair was auburn, like thafc of Reginald Mowbrey, and but for his garb, he might have been mistaken for tlie rich heir. Walter started afc thesigns sounexpectedly presented to his view ; and then, looking more closely afc the corpse, saw it could not long have been there, probably only since the night before. He knew . that a troupe of itinerant showmen had passed through the village a week before, on their way north. Most likely this one had, for some reason, lingered behind, and on his ' way to rejoin his companions, had taken tlie shortest route indicated, and thus met his fate. A sudden thought entered tlie gazer's mind : what if he could bring, unobserved, some of Reginald's clothing here, attire the corpse in ifc, and, luring his cousin to the depths of the wood, slay and bury him. In tho search which would be made for him, the 'searchers would, as lie had done, come upon the body, so strangely liko ; and coupling tho appearance with the garb, they would nofc hesitate to believe thafc they saw the dead heir. Acting upon liis thought, he covered the body, -already noarly concealed, with furze-branches ; and resolved, should nothing be already heard of the stranger, who had accidentally been killed, to carry oufc his awful project the same nighfc. There was consternation and woo inthe halls of Mowbrey ; for three days the heir had been missing. The first day ifc was conjectured he had gone to tho Grange the evoning before, and the weather being stormy, had boen persuaded to stay all night. But as evening came again, and he did not return, his father grew anxious, and sent a messenger to the Grange, who came back with the tidings of Reginald's nofc having been there for the last two days, and there, too, had the state of the weather prevented his friends feeling so anxious as they would otherwise have done, for Reginald had from his boyhood daily visited the Grange, where he was as free. of the house as the old squire himself. Learning that his son had not been seen at the Grango, a terrible foreboding entered the mind of Sir Roger that he should never see him again alive ; but by his orders horses were saddled, and men rode round the country for miles, inquiring at every mansion, village, or town for tidings of the missing heir. Afc home, too, the woods were scoured ; bufc to no purpose. All the tenantry voluntarily and eagerly sought for their beloved young lord ; bufc not until the course of the third day did they, having exhausted their search elsewhere, seek among the furze at the base of Guy's Cliffe. A cry of horror from the foremost announced that they had found what they sought. There lay the young man,- dead in his youthful prime, tho features unrecognisable from thp wounds made by the cruel rock as he fell ; bufc the auburn locks and the garb were Reginald Mowbrey V. In the gloom of evening the sad bearers carried thoir burden to tlio Chase. Sir Roger and Walter Leppard saw them from afar off. The hearts of both leaped and sank, bufc with what different emotions ! The younger man schooled his aspect, and met the body of his dead cousin with what seemed natural sorrow and good feeling ; bufc there was no need for the stricken father to play a part. He say,* that all he loved and prized had gone befoi*e him ■ ho heard tlio recital of how ancl where they had found his son, and it seemed only too probable thafc he missed his footing on tho boisterous nighfc of his disappearance, and so fallen to the fu'rzegrown common beneath Guy's Cliff. The body was laid on a stately bier in the darkened hall, and for two days it was open for all to .come and tako a farewell look afc tho last heir of the Mowbroy name. Will Franklin, who, fortunately for himself, had been lying prostrate from loss of blood for the last four days, was now able to rise ; and he craved permission to see the dead body of him against whom he had so lately vowed vengeance. He was. admitted by the consent of the house-sbeward ; bub Walter Leppard frowned when he saw him enter, and the frown was nob unperceived by Franklin. Walter had not left the house since his cousin's body was brought home, and ho had narrowly watched tho looks of each who came to pay their tribute of respect or curiosity to the departed. He had been satisfied until now; bufc when Franklin in lu3 turn came, he saw suspicion in his face, and he , looked afc Walter as though to accuse him of murder ; but gazing intently at tho corpse, a new idea seemed to enter his mind ; and muttering, "Nofc so tall by two inches," ho again looked afc Walter, and went his way. Walter followed him into the open road, and inquired kindly after his health. Tho mau was short and abrupt; in his answers, and Walter felt uneasy ; bufc assuming an indifferent tone, " Franklin," he said, ..'.'you kuow I am heir to the estate, and can perhaps do something to make up for my poor cousin's wrong to you. 1 can easily obtain my uncle's consent to what I propose. I can put you in the South Lodge, which has boen empby since old Adam, died ; and you might be kead"stableman as well. Perhaps your pretty Phyllis may relent whenyou can offer her /tlie lodge for. a home." , Franklin's eyes glistened, and for a moment he felb only warm gratitude to the man whos o gratuitously and so generously offered to help him to the ful-

filment of his dearest wishes. Then came back upon his view the corpse he had just left, and which he felt sure was nofc that of Reginald Mowbrey. He felt he was bribed to compromise a deed of guilt. He hesitated ; bufc tho tempter afc his side offered him that which ho could never hopo to obtain for himself. He looked up into Walter Leppard's countenance, and the eyes of the two men sealed their guilty compact. No word was spoken, but Walter felt that the other knew there was lo be concealment and connivance. After a solemn funeral procession they laid the youthful dead ih the tomb of the Mowbreys, and a rare carved monument told how the last scion of that race had met his doom. Nofc long did Sir Roger survive his last hope on earth. He never smiled again, but he died peacefully.. And now Walter Leppard had gained all he had desired to gain — wealth and power and place. Yes, he had an important post afc Court now ; he had been knighted since his accession of wealth, and was Sir Walter Leppard of Mowbrey ; bufc, " gnashing with impenitent remorse," there were moments when he would gladly have uudone the past, and been again the dependent of Lord Clarendon, One wish was still unfulfilled' — he had nofc won Annabel Ellice ; bufc he spared no means to do so. Her father was dead, and she was an interloper in her i uncle's homo, whoro a large and growing j family exhausted the narrow revenues of j the household. Sho had had sinco Reginald's death an uncontrollable aversion to Walter's visits, aud she took herself to task for this ; and remembering how the two had been friends, she met Walter with kindness, but his love she steadily rejected. Her grief had beon deep, if not loud. The light died out of her eyes, as it had vanished from her heart when the dreadful news was broken to her; her great sorrow had come to her early, bufc its effects wore lasting. " Xo move sho walked elastic on the air; Light tliou_h her step, there was a languor there." Unceasingly and perseveringly the new knight and favored courtier laid siege to her bereaved heart. That fortress yielded nofc, but at length she promised to give him all the affection she could 3'et bestow, and to become his wife ; her uncle urging upon her the necessity of relieving him' from any additional anxiety. Sadly and quietly she entered upon her new duties, but she strove to fulfil them, and, so striving, succeeded. Taciturn and more gloomy Walter grew daily, bufc he was pleased with the general love bestowed upou his wife by rich and poor. She was gracious of manner to all, and the suffering iv mind or body found in her a ready sympathiser and kind helper. The birth of a son brought joy to both parents, aud drew them nearer together. Annabel clasped the baby to her heart, and felb now happiness in bhe clinging of its tiny hands or in gazing afc its lovely face. Three months after the birth of his heir, Walter went back to London to resume his Court duties. Annabel and the child accompanied him, and the fresh beauty of the former was tho subject of much praise and comment and envy in the gay circle thab surrounded ihe monarch and his Portuguese consort. This unhappy princess, wounded in her deepest feelings, and suffering daily degradation, found solace in tlio society of ihe fair and gentle Lady .Leppard, who, in the- midst of thafc licentious compan}*, maintained her woman's dignity and reputation. Although Walter had done so much to gain Mowbrey, now he was possessed of ifc he loved no place less. The grand old mansion, the splendid surroundings of wood aud water, appeared to be odious to him, and his chiof happiness was in constant occupation. The interests of the nation were then afc slake. The Dutch were vigorously pursuing their warfare with England, and ifc was feared might even reach the metropolis ; ancl whilst this state of things lasted, and the then ministry remained in oflice, Sir Walter was ever busy, advising with Clarendon, or holding interviews with bankers and capibalisbs, endeavouring to raise loans for the expenses of the war, the Exchequer beiug empby ; and this perpetual mental excitement, joined to the physical fatigue he underwent, strangely rendered him more cheerful of manner, more easy of approach. Bufc the cessation of war was succeeded by the downfall of Lord Clarendon, and after his removal the whole of the ministry was broken up. Then Annabel urged a return to Mowbrey, if only for a time ; and Walter afc length consented to spend their boy's third birthday there. The eve of little Phillip Leppard's birthday had come, and found himself and parents once more at the Chase. Annabel was sitting alone in her boudoir, which looked towards the South Lodge. She was tired, for her cousins from the Grange, Alice and Cecily Ellice, were staying with lier, and they had all been busy during the day making garlands of leaves and flowers to decorate the hall and rooms on the morrow. The two young girls had now gone to ro-arrange their disordered hair and dress ; Alice was expecting her betrothed to return with Sir Walter, who had gono tothe neighbouring town witha commission from Annabel to tho toy-mer-chant, and a design on his own part to purchase a small pony for Philip. Sitting thus alone in the dusky gloaming, Lady Leppard's thoughts unconsciously went back to old times — lier childhood, her girlhood, and their varying scenes rose before her memory ; her loving father, her youthful betrothed — Reginald, as ho was when last she saw him alive — and the end, the sudden and fearful end, the face which even she could nofc recognise. Suddenly starting from her reverie, she felt ifc was nofc well to recur or dwell upon the past; ; she made a strong effort, and calling for lights went to a room at the end of a corridor, which led to the tower, whoro her cousins aud she had placed their most precious wreaths, those which were to deck tho festive bowl or be twined round the suspended lamps. This room was never occupied. Sir Walter particularly objected to that park of the old house, alleging that the east wind entered too freely ; and as thero was no lack of apartments, those afc the south side had been newly fitted up, whilst those at the east end were dismantled of thoir furniture. Bufc tho two girls and Annabel had found it convenient, on entering from the grounds which they had rifled, to deposit their spoil in Sir Godfrey's room, as ifc was called, having once boen Ihe favorite apartment of the good knight, who was drowned iv endeavoring to savo tho life of a peasant's child. On entering bho room, Lady Leppard went towards a closet, on bhe shelves of which sho knew Cecil}' had pub somo artificial roses which wero to be mingled with the laurel. Going thus forward, hor oyos fell on tho large nnd massive mirror which faced her. Nofc her own reflected imago did she soo, though ib might have been thoro too. Spellbound she stood, transfixed by terror, for tho gloss gave back to her affrighted gaze tho lineaments of the dead. Reginald Mowbrey was there, but not as in life — gay of bearing and noble of aspect ; bufc pale, sad-eyed, stern, worn, and cadaverous in appearance. Gradually the vision faded, and as it did so, Annabel uttered a loud shriek, and fell senseless ab the foot of the mirror. In falling, the

keys, which, as chatelaine, she wore suspended from her waist, struck forcibly against a large iron nail which apparently nailed tho glass to the ■ wall, and which was in reality a secret spring. The mirror swung back, and there fell forward a skeleton clothed as Reginald had been on the night he disappeared, and as he had been seen just now by Annabel. Eor two hours she lay insensible, and afc length woke fco consciousness to find herself alone with the doad. Wildly she shrieked now, and so loudly and incessantly that the terrified household rushed in a body to the quarter whence the sounds proceeded. What was their horror and consternation to see their lady sitting on the floor with a skull lying on her lap, the remaining part of the skeleton afc her side, and the swung-back mirror revealing-the place of concealment. They removed her from her ghostly companipn, and placing her on her bed, hastened to summon medical aid. Walter reached home just after this had been done, and being informed of what had occurred went to Sir Godfrey's chamber, where he found Franklin among those assembled. With an unsteady voice, and drops of cold perspiration standing on his brow, he gave orders thafc preparations should be made for the immediate interment of the relics of the dead ; and after he had seen them laid upon a bier, he dismissed the servants, and, remaining alone with Franklin, said, " We did not do our work effectually. This ought to have been buried long since." "Nay," said Franklin ; little I thought he was still above the ground. I never dreamt bufc thafc you had put; him away afc once by a sudden blow ; but had I known tho poor lad lay here starving slowly to death, I would have spoken, though I hated him then." " You were a maniac then, and would perhaps have been a fool, had I told you all ; but you knew there was foul play, thafc the poor showman's corpse was not Reginald Mowbrey ; and I shut your mouth with bribes. Now it is too late. We must endeavour to hide what may be recognised of the past. The doublet alone may be fatal ; the rest of the dress was common to us all afc the time, and in the dim light of yon torch it cannot hitherto have been identified. We can cover ifc with a winding-sheet, and, under pretence of not disturbing the dead, forbid ifc any more to be looked at ; and in the light of early morn we will sco ifc placed in the earth. Bufc you and I must keep watch during the night." Franklin gloomily assented, and the day broke upon the dismal scene. Then silently the dead remains were conveyed to a remote corner of the churchyard, and left to their rest at last. A report was spread by Walter thafc probably they were the bones of a cavalier who had taken refuge behind the mirror in the early days of the Commonwealth. Annabel was restored to health, but never again to the possession of her senses. At times she was frantic, but for the most part she sat silently gazing before her, or playing with her fingers. They never let her see a mirror when they found that the sight of ono renewed her attack of frenzy. Her child she did nofc recognise ; bufc he grew up a brave bright-eyed boy, and scoured the woods and climbed the hills fearlessly-too fearlessly his father thought, but he could nofc cheek him. They went no more to London ; and years passed, and Philip's majority was not celebrated with fostivitj' — his mother's condition forbade that ; but he was fine youth, and little dreamt what a crime his father had done ab the same age to make Mowbrey his own. But the hour of retribution was afc hand. Philip was daring of ascent and descent of crag and cliff, and pursuing too eagerly his favourite sport, fell from the highest point of Guy's Cliff— there where Reginald Mowbroy had been supposed to have met his fate. He was borne home a mangled and disfigured corpse ; so that even the eyes of those who knew him best could nofc say that he was the youth they had seen leave home that morning so gay and lithe of limb. Nofc long did Sir Walter survive his son ; he expired in the succeeding autumn. "He died, and made no sign ;" but what passed between him and his Maker we know nofc, perhaps he died repentant. And Anuabel, her clouded life and stricken heart found rest afc last. She was carefully watched and tended by her cousin Cecily, who eventually became mistress of Mowbrey. She married Sir Walter's brother, Villiers ; and it was one of her sons who was called by Gideon Franklin to his grandfather's deathbed. What the young man heard blanched his cheek, and remained for life a horrible memory ; but he told no one. It could do no good to the living, and was best buried in the past and altogether forgotten ; but he shuddered when he passed Sir Godfrey's room, or even heard it named. The sun rose, and old Franklin was dead — the effort of revelation had exhausted his remaining vital energy, and whilst the young clergyman still sat by his side he died.

m»S M ° a ° BaJ innimiiirFjn

Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/HBH18700628.2.21

Bibliographic details

Hawke's Bay Herald, Volume 14, Issue 1165, 28 June 1870, Page 3

Word Count
5,962

FRANKLIN'S CONFESSION. Hawke's Bay Herald, Volume 14, Issue 1165, 28 June 1870, Page 3

FRANKLIN'S CONFESSION. Hawke's Bay Herald, Volume 14, Issue 1165, 28 June 1870, Page 3

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