CHAPTER L.

Te Aroha News, Volume V, 3 December 1887, Page 2

CHAPTER L.

AT SI? A. The sea ! tho sen ! the open aca ! The blue, the iresh, the e\ or irec ! Without a mat k, without a bound, It runneth the earth's wild regions round; It nlays with clouds, it mocks the slues, Or hkc a crached creature lies. lUkky Cornwall. To Gertrude, life now presented a quick succession of brilliant surprise?, with a ■dazzling vista of pleasures ladialing far into the future. The long, bright railway vide of that glorious autumn day, with the bwift-icach-ing and passing so many large towns and villages ; the noisy an ival at "New York ; the gay bustle at the depot* tho crowded cabin of the ferry-boats ; the forest of ship, ping at the landing ; tho long, magnificent streets of the city ; the splendid buildings . the grand hotel*, all so common-place and uninteiesting to the citizen's eyes, to our little ru&tic from the mountains of We&fc "Virginia formed a. series of wonders such as she had never e\en dreamed of. The next day's sighb-soeing, which comprised as much as could be got within twelve hours ot sunlight, and the next evening's % isit to one oi the largest theatres, to see a. star company in the " Midsummer Night's Dream," completed her blissful bewilderment, left her* mind dazzled, enchanted, and delighted, and sent her to bed at niglit to sloop the dreamless sleep of a happy child, completely tiled out with playOn Wednesday morning our party arot-e early to prepare for their embaikation on the ffiuropa for Liverpool ; for although the sliip was not to sail until noon, the passengers were requested to be on boaul some hours -sooner. Punctual to time the gang-plank waswithdrawn, and the steamer, amid the hauling in of chains and hawsers, dropped away from the side of hei pier, b\\ ung slow ly around, and stood out to pea. The signal gun was hied, and amid the checis and luuiahb of the men on deck and of those on tho pier, the slvp sailed away. Colonel Fitzgeiald led Geitmdo to the bows ot the steamer, whoie theic was moie room. Theie they sat down to enjoy the magnificent piospect of New Yotk harbour, seen in the gionous bun'ight of this early afternoon in autumn. They v.-eic almost alone. The man at, the wheel, the oiheer of the watch, and one or two loungei b near tho smoke-stack, where the only individuals in sight, but even they were not within healing. "Gertiude,"' s.id Colonel Fitzgerald, speaking gra\cly, after a thoughtful pause, ** do \ou lemember the iii^t night at Fuller r s, when, without explanation or .adieu, I left you all alone until morning ? •Of course you do ; \ou can nc\er fotget it. But do you often think 01 ti, my child ? '' "Yes,"' said Gertrude, sotily. *' And wondci and speculate about it V " Yes, ' mummied Gertrude. "And connected it, in your thoughts, -with that other unaccountable absence when I failed to keep my appointment on my wedding-d'iy at the Summit?" "Yes" whispeied the young wife. "I thought f-o, of cour&e. Well, my little Ti uc, you w ere right. Both absences were due to the -arne cause and 1 elated te the same c\ cut. The one sect et that I have liaJ — the c-ecret connected with my unac counted for and inoppoitune absences, I am at length lice to communicate to you. You have now and then heard some slight allubion made to a criminal trial that has been occupying the Washington Court for the last tew \>eeks, and which has beei: brought to a. close within a few days ?"' " Yes — tho trial of Lackland for the murder of lUickluust," murmured Geitrude, in the givn c tone and w ith the awc-stricker look with v. liich )outh and innocence &peak of crime. " That i^ it. It has seemed to me, Gertrude, such an irony in fate that those aieare&t and duaie&t to mo should have taken so little interest in an event of such vital moment to myself and to others with whom they were nearly connected. That -trial, Gertrude, and the c\ents that led te it, were the "\eiy causes of my enforced absence from the side of Miss Gcraldine Fitzgerald on the day that I had promised to meet her ; that trial, and the .events that led to it, weic also the causes of my enforced .silence on the subject of that absence.' 1 " It was while I was in command of old Fort Terror, on the Indian frontier, that I first met Adam Lackland. He arrived at the ffort one morning with a -company of Englishmen, come out there, poor ibabies ! -to hunt the buffalo ! "My narrathe has nothing further to do -with the lads— they left the fort <mj the next morning, and whether they got teampled to death by the bison, hugged by the grizzlier or scalped by the Indian*, or whether they all returned safely to their anxious parents, I cannot tell you. I never heard of them again. " Lackland remained at the fort, Gertrude. Whether it was from his accidental likeness to my dear father, as I remembered my father in his earlier manhood, or whether it was from his cultivateel mind and pleasing manners, so rarely to be found combined in a backwoodsman, as he seemed to be, — or whether it was from all these causes together, I cannot tell you. But I know that my first meeting with Lackland gave me a very favourable impression of him, and that ouv subsequent acquaintance deepened into friendship. "He was at that Lime a very handsome man of about forty years of age, with a ±all, stalwart form, fine, regular features, very clark complexion, and jet-black hair and beard, both of which he wore long and flowing ; in a word, he was like my father in my father's maturity. You have seen Maurice Fitzgerald, and you know that he was veiy handsome, even in his age. "I invited Lackland to remain at the fort a& my guest, anel to share my quarters, which he did ; and without effort or obtrusiveness he mode himself very agreeable to us all, as well as very useful to mj'self. On the famous rising of the Coman ches and Apaches, he diel good service with U 3 again&b them. " During the year that he passed with us at Fort Terror he attached himself to me with the devotion of a father, although, indeed, he could not have been more than ten years my senior ; but in all this time I learned nothing of his history beyond this, that he had lost his wife and his only child by a, catastrophe that had happened many years ago, and of which he could not bear to speak. Since that awful bereavement he had bee.i a lonely wanderer over the face of the earth. Ho had spent tho last live years on the Western plains. " When, at length, we had ' conquered a peace,' and I started for Washingto) T ack-

land accompanied me. On our arrival at the seat of Government), we took rooms ab the samo hotel for, the few days that I was detained in the city while making my report to the Secretary of War. " When I was about ho leave Washington for Virginia, I invited Lackland to accompany me to the Summit as my guest. He thanked mo, but declined the invitation. We left the hotel on the same day, he to go to a private boarding-house, kept by a widow named Dalle, I to set out for my home. " During the few weeks that I spent at the Summit I heard nothing of Lackland. Ho told me plainly ab parting that ho was a poor letter-writer, and bo there was no epistolary correspondence between us. " At the end of six weeks I returned to Washington. My resignation had not even theu been accepted ; my business at the seat of Government was to urge that it might be acted upon as speedily as possible. "I found Lackland still at his private boarding-house, and very glad to see me. But a great change had come over my rough hirsute friend. His long, black beard was as full and flowing as ever, but his black hair was trimmed and arranged, and instead of his backwoods costume, he wore the conventional dress of a gentleman of the nineteenth century ; and if he was not much handsomer than before, he was certainly much more civilised in personal appearance. " The cause of this transfiguration was a girl— the daughter of the landlady. My dear Gertrude, this Mrs Dalle was, to my opinion, a very commonplace and uninteresting young woman, and ono whom time proved to be weak and unprincipled. Yet, because of late years he had &een so few women, poor soul ! and because she was the only young woman in tlio house, and he was brought in daily and hourly contact with her, he fell in love with all the fierce passion of his nature and h's — yes, his. age, Gertrude. I see you look up with surprise, for you remember I told you Lackland was over forty ; but mark you, child, as the heat of mid-day is greater than that of morning, as the heat of mid-su turner is greater than that of spr'ng, so arethe affections of mid life stionger than those of youth. "In the six weeks that he had spent in ! Mrs Dalle's house he had courted the girl, and she had from the first encouraged him. He told me, in a happy burst ot confidence, that he had proposed for her and had been accepted, and that their manure was to take place in one month horn that time. " Yet, Gertrude, I had not been in the city ten days before I saw that) something had occurred to give tiouble to my fiiend. This trouble increased from day to day. He became as another man ; he was silent and sullen, or wild and excitable, by turns. He grew pale, thin, and hagjrurd. Theio were times when I feaicd for his reason or his life. " Sallnst Rowley came fiom hi-, college for the midsummer vacation, and joined me in Washington with the intention of going down with me to Virginia, For the few days that we remained in the city, young Row ley saw a great deal of my friend Lackland, and became very much interested in him and his unspoken trouble, for my room at Fuller's w a» the refuge of this most unhappy man, where he would come at any hour of the day, and throw himself down on a chair or sofa in a fit ot silent despair. " At length Sallust, with the enterprising curiosity of youth, determined to investigate for himself, and took to visiting Lackland at his boarding-house. One night the boy came to me and said : "'I have found out all about it. It i* that girl he is engaged to be manied to cariying on like a" house afiie with a new boaider, a young fellow named Buckhurst. She'd carry on with me, too, if I'd let her. What do you think ? This evening, while I was there, they were both sitting side by >ide on the sofa up against the front ■windows, and the shutters weie open, and he had his arm on the back of the sofa behind her shoulders. / call that hugging, I was so disgusted at such behaviour that I got up and said good-night, and came away. But what do you think ? On the outside I saw Lackland walking up and down the pavement like a distracted man. He could see everything going on in that room. So could I ; for as [ looked up at the window I saw Buckhurst kiss her. They were alone, but they seemed to have forgotten that the window-shutteis were open. Tell you what, that man moans mischief ! If you have got any influence over him, you had better use it !' "I endeavoured to get him to go down with me to Wilde county, but he declined. He was very much to be pitied, as well as to be condemned, for he was madly, fatally in love with the weak unprincipled girl, who, on the very eve of her marriage with him, was falsely and coldly abandoning him for another and less worthy, man. And if at this time he was not actually insane, he was, like Othello, ' Perplexed in the extreme.' "Yet he must have been mad, for he slew his rhal, and would have slain himself had he not been prevented. But all this you have heard." " Yes, all that I have heard,"' sighed the sympathising listener. " What you have yet to learn, however, is that Sallust Rowley was an oye and ear witness to the whole horrible tragedy, and I came very near being the same." " Oh !" exclaimed Gertrude, with an irrepressible shudder. " The day succeeding my last unavailing interview with jpoor L,ackland was the day upon which Sallust and myself were to start for Wilde county. About two o'clock young Rowley and myself left our hotel and took a hack to drive to our boat. " As we bowled along at a good pace I sat back in my seat, thinking of the strange unhappy man I had taken leave of on the night before, Sallust eat with his head out of the right-hand window, staring at the scattered dwellings, I suppose, ior there waa nothing else to see. " We had just reached the corner of Maryland Avenue when we were startled by the loud report of a pistol near at hand — so near that our horses reared, and Sallust fell back from the window as if he had been shot. But the next instant he looked out again, while a second and a third pistol were fired in quick succession. Then came the rush of many feet in one direction. Our horses were still rearing and struggling. Again Sallust fell back in the carriage, this time exclaiming : " Great Heaven ! it is Lackland ! He has killed Buckhurst ! I saw him do it !" "I pushed the door on my side open and jumped out into the street. " Sallust sprang out through his door to the sidewalk. All this happened in less than one minute from the firing of the first shot. " Standing in the street, I looked forward and saw a small group of people collected around a fallen man, and uttering exclamations of horror. " Then, quick as lightning, the gathering of a crowd of people swarming to the spot from all directions, and more cries, shrieks and exclamations, but not a policeman to be seen in the whole lot ! And then once more the voice of Rowley in my ear :, " ' Good gracioup, Gerald, I saw and heard it all i I wish I had been blind and deaf before I saw and heard ib all ! Poor devil, lam very sorry for him. See here, Gerald,

I can't stay and bo a witness against him. I must make off," - " 'No, you musb not., neither, At you please, sir. You will be wanted to testify in this case," said a policeman, last made his appearance, laying his Hand on my shoulder, whilst 'Sallust disappeared in the confusion. v " " " If I have any presence of mind, I showed it then by holding my tongue and allowing the astute officer of the law to detain me, though I had really seen nothing of the shooting, but had only hoard the report of ihearmsin common with the hundreds of persons who had gathered to the spot. I let them hold me, who knew nothing, in place of Sallust Rowley, who knew all, because while my testimony could not hurt the unhappy man, that of Sallust Rowley would have ruined him." "And that was the reason," murmured Gci Crude, "why Mr Sallust Rowley rushed down to Wilde county in such hot haste on iho night of the iifteenth jf July ?" "Yes ; and tho reason, also, why I remained behind, and failed to keep my appointment with Miss Fitzgerald at the Summit. " I was held by the authorities until the inquest was over. On the day after the inquest I set out for Wilde county, and arri\ ed at home, still under the detention. I had shielded Sallust Rowley fiom the pursuit of officers with a subpoena, and had saved the wretched Lackland from a fatal witness against him. I thought it necessary still to shield and save both the witness and the homicide. It was therefore that I felt compelled to keep an absolute silence on the subject of my slight connection with that tragedy. " It was many days after that I learned that the aw officers had really boon down to Wilde county in pursuit of Sallust llowloy, who had eluded them only by flying the country. " An I now, my dear Gertrude, I having explained the cause of my absence and silence in that crisis of my fate, you will wonder why we, Sallu&fc Rowley and myself, should have sympathised so strongly ■with the homicide?" Gertrude nodded gravely in response. ' My child, much more explanation would scarcely be tit for your ears. But this I will assure you, that Lackland was no common criminal, no bloodthirsty assassin, nor wore his wrongs common wrongs." Gertrude shuddered, and hid her face in her hands. "No man," continued Gerald, ''should ea cr, under any provocation, dare to take tho law into his own hands. But if evei a man weie justified in doing so, Lackland " Yet he was convicted of murder in the lirst dcgiee !"' "Yes, he was convicted; because the woman whom he loved and lost happened to be hib betrothed bride, and not his wedded wife. If she had been his wife, whom he avenged, lie would have been acquitted and vindicated with eclat. All, avcll ! He will have a now trial, with, I hope, a better result !"' " And the wretched girl who brought all this woe upon him V" sighed the young wife. "Oh, .'•he has come to her senses, as all wretched sinners do when it is too late— if it is ever too late ! She has been very penitent, and has been constant in her attendance upon him in his cell. He has forgiven her ! Oh, the Christ-like tenderness of that forgiveness ! It was she who came for me on that first night of my absence from you. She asked me to go and spend the night with Lackland in his cell. It was supposed that that night would have been his last, as the execution had been appointed for the next day. The poor girl was in an agony of anxiety lest the prison doors should be closed against us both before we could reach it, and so she hurried me oil beloie I could write a note to you. And though I took a hack and drove rapidly we baiely reached the gaol in time to be admitted." "How did .she know that you had arrived ?"' inquired Gertrude. "In going from her mother's house toward the pri&on, she passed the hotel, and saw me through the lighted windows of the reading room. Know ing that it would be a sort of comfort to Lackland to have me with him on the last night, she came in immediately and made her petition. I could not deny" it, Gertrude. Indeed, the thought of you alone was my only reason for hesitation. I sent you a note back by a messenger, which you should have received the tame night, but did not get until the next morning. However, that is past. I spent the night with the poor soul in his cell. The next morning his reprieve arrived. I fuel sure that reprieve is only the foretunner of a new trial, which will terminate in his honourable acquittal."