The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1845-11-29

had watched unweariedly for many night aud
day, but il was with such a flood of joyful emo
tlons. as he had never before experienced. that he
now found himself recognized and acknowledged
as such by him, without question and without hes
itation. This seemed to him sufficient proof Of his
title to be thus considered. Mr.. Vinion recovered
slowly, and it was long before they ventured to tell
him the mystery in which the fate Of his wife was
still shrouded, and of the suffering which she must
have endured through the perfdy Of his brother.
His own tale was only such as would have been
expected from that which they had already known.
He had not been long absent from home on
visit to the Continent. which has already been
named, ere singular and unaccountable change
was visible in the letters Of Amelia He received
them much less frequently--and they were dictated
in light, tr1ng manner, wholly foreign to aught
that he had before seen her; her natural reserve
seemed wholly to have disappeared, aud she spoke
of much company in her new home, and that, too,
often of character which he could by no means
approve. He exposulated with her--but it was
of avail she turned aside his reproofs with ests,
or met them with anger and indignation. This
reused him to such degree of anxiety, as to in
duce him to hasten the completion Of his busine IS
and prepare for speedy return home.
Before this was accomplished, however, he re-
ceved letter from his brother, which increased
his anxiety TO the utmost and caused him to leave
all and proceed at once to England. This letter
was written with the utmost kindness and sympa-
Al, ,of
the danger to which the conduct of his wife ex-
posed him, without woundiDg him where 1t was
possible to avoid It. Mr.. Yinton retuned TO Eng
land only to find his brother the sole occupant Of
his desolate home, and to learn from him that his
wife had fled-eloped with worthless adventurer
from her native land So well had this plot been
contrived, and SO completely was Mr.. Vinton de-
ceived that he had not the slightest doubt of his
brothers. integrity, and would not have made
search for his wife-whom he regarded as lost to
every virtue, and unworthy of the fond attach
m ent with which he had ever regarded her-it she
had not taken off her child. His brother inform
ed him that he had taken every means for the dis
covery of the fugiives in that Fart of the country,
and that he was sure they had gone TO America
For America therefore, he set sail, and after trav
eing in this country for long, time, meeting
with continual disappointment, and worn down
by grief which was continually aggravated by the
pictures his brother drew OF the peridy of her to
whom his whole heart had been given. Vinton
fell i'll, and in this state as he supposed had been
taken to his place of confinement. From that day
to the present, he had never seen familiar face,
was ignorant OF the cause of his confinement, and
unable 10 decide certainly whether he owed all
his misfortunes to his brother or not. A stranger
had occasionally visited him without any appa-
rent object, and once or twice this individual had
been accompanied by person in the capacity of a
servant, who he had Of late strongly suspected to be
Richard VInton in disguise. Besides these indi-
viduas none entered his cell, nor was he ever suf
fercd to leave 1t. Efforts 10 escape had at times
been made, but these had only served to increase
the strictness with which he was guarded The
keeper Of the asylum exculpated himself from
guilt with regard to his confinement on the plea
of ignorance-and they left him to settle the mat
ter with his own onscience-sufficiently rejoiced
that the victim was at last released and restored to
freedom and 10 life.
| When Richard VInton entered the court for his
trial. and found himself confronted by the murder
er with whom he had planned the assassination of
Mr.. Marsden. the courage, by which he had, till
then, seemed to be sustained, forsook him: he
knew what he had to expect from this mans tss.
tmony-all hope vanised,-he pleaded guilty to
the charges preferred against him, and was con-
victed. The next morning, they found him a
corpse upon his prison floor. He left no legacy TO
the world through which he had strewn for him.
self path of thorns, save the simple sentence
scrawled in charcoal upon the walls OF his CELL
"The boy | have reared is the son of my brother :"
The violent manner of his death was an event TO
which many of the acts of his life had borne so
frighu similarity that those who heard it shrunk
not from the story, as from tale of unexpected
horror, and the world passed by scarce pausing
to lament that another among them, had so striven
with his God given powers as to work out for him.
self an inheritance of woe. II is true that those
who had regarded him an oracle Of goo odness and
messenger ofmercy, felt their breath sfled and
their blood grow chill when the story Of his crimes
had reached their ears, and forced itself upon their
credulity ,-buthis death was the closing scene Of
drama, through whose darkest acts they had al
ready passed.
CHAPTER TX.
"It is she,- she is come like dayspring beam,
She that so mournfully shadowed his dream.
[HEMANs.
"Ob, since their youths last passionate farewell,
How changed in all save love. Ibid
I, ,rxs J,na .nd tha craar 6alda and N