Tribune and telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1855-1856, 1856-05-01

"
ell by cart if he didn't speak to carts compa
NY"
The carts company increased as they got on
Women with poultry baskets, returning from the
neighboring hamets and farms; stray friends o
the proprietor of the veh iee who were on thei
way to Oakfeld; and at last little village chill
dren, who had come ont to meet the cart, ant
were already fighting as to who should have the
| privilege of riding the old horse to water when
he was taken out of the shafts; it was a caval
cade OF ten or dozen persons, when the spire
OF the church came into view. Arthur Still
walked beside them, but took no part in the con
Version. There seemed unusual going on il
the main street as they drew There wa,
acrowd OF anxious faced peasantry opposite the
door OF the Woodman's Arms; they were talk
ing In whispers and expecting some ones ARR
val.
4 "Have We seen him coming, Luke Watersl'
said two OF three at a time to the carrier.
"Noa-who, then?''
"The crowner; he ha' been sent for hour &
more"
What's happened. then? Woa, horse!"
"Sumnat bad. He's there!" said a man
pointing to the upper window of the inn, anC
turning paler than before she was found il
Parsons Northumberland such slash!'
The man touched his throat and was silent,
Arthur began to listen. .'Who is it? does any
one know the corpse?'
/ "Noa; he were stranger, strpt naked all tc
the drawers-and murdered; but here's the
crowner. He'll explain it ALL
| The coroner came, man Of business mind
who seemed no more impressed with the solem
nifty of the scene than butcher in a shop, sur
rounded by dead sheep, A Jury was summoned
and proceeded up stairs A few of the by-stan
ders were admitted. Among others Arthur
lie was dreadfully calm; evidently by an effort
which concealed his agitation. II have never
looked on death = he said, "and this first expe
| rience is very terrible"
| The inquest went Arthur, though in the
room, kept his eyes perfectly closed; but thro
his shut lids he conjurcd up to himself the ghast-
ly sight, the stark body, the gaping wound. He
thought of hurrying down stairs without wait
ing the result, but there was fascination in the
scene that detained him.
"The corpse was found in this state" said the
coroner: "itneeds no proofm more than the wounds
upon it to show that it was by violence the man
died. But by whose hands it is impossible to
say. Can no one identify the body9''
There was long pause. Each of the specta-
tors looked on the piteous spectacle, but could
give no answer TO the question. At last Arthur,
| by an immense exertion of sef-command, OPEN
cd his eyes and fixed them on the body He
staggered and nearly tell. His cheek became
deadly pale. His eyeballs We're fixed. 81
know him!' he cried, and knelt beside his bed.
II parted from him last night: he to come
| by the wagon from Hawsleigh on his way to Ex-
eter, but left word that he was going to walk on
before. He was my brother-my triend.,'
And his name?" said the coroner. "This is
very satisfactory
Arthur looked upon the cold brow of the muir
dered man, and said with sob of despair
Wilmington Harvey"
The coroner took the dispositions, went thro'
the legal forms, and gave the proper verdict
Murdered; but by some person or persons UNI
known
1t was lawless time, and deeds of violence
were very frequent. Some years after, the per-
petrators of the deed We're detected in some 9TH
er crime, and confessed their guilt. They had
robbed and murdered the unoffending traveller,
and were scared away by the approach of the
post-wagon from Hawsleigh. Arthur caused a
a small headstOne to be raised over his friends
grave, with the inscription of his name and fate
Callous as he sometimes appeared, he could not
personally convey the sad news to Winnington's
relations but forw arded them the full certificate
of the sad occurrence. 1t is needless to tell
what tears were shed by the unhappy mother
and sister, or how often their fancy travelled to
the small monument and fresh turf grave in the
church-yard of Oakfeld
CHAPTER ~.
When thirty years had elapsed, great chang
es had taken place in Combe Warleigh. 1t was
no longer desolate village, Struggling i'll the
midst of an interminable heath, but a populous
tOWH-Dusy, uiil anu IiCii. HciC NcfC HaHy
thousands of worl>mcn engaged in mining and
smelling. Furnaces were blazing night and
day, and there were two or three churches and
town-hal. The neighborhood had grown popul-
Gus as well as the town and n person standing
on the tower of Sir Arthur Hayning's CASTLE
near the Warleigh waterfall could see, at great
distances, over the level expanse, the outings of
columns of smoke from many tall chimneys
which he had erected or other parts ofhs estate
He had stewards and overseers, an army of car
tiers and wagoners, and regiments of clerks, and
sat in the great house; and from his rich fur
nishet library commanded, ruled, and organized
ALL Little was known of his early life, for the
growth of a town where a man lives is like the
lapse of years in other places New people come,
old inhabitants die ont are lost in the crowd
and very recent event, take the enlarged and
confused outline ofremotc traditions. The date
of Sir Arthur's settlement ut Warleigh was as
uncertain to most of the inhabitants as that of
the siege of Troy 1t was only reported that at
some period infinitely distant, he had bought the
estate, had lived the life of a miser-saving,
working heaping up, buying where land was to
be had; digging down into the soil, always by
some inconcevabe faculty hitting upon the
richest lodes till he was owner of incaculab.e
cxtents of country, and sole proprietor of the
town and mills of Combe-Warleigh. No one
knew if he had ever been married or not When
first the population began TO assemble, they saw
respective Gutics-he finding capital and employ
ment, and they obedience and industry
No social intercourse existed between him and
any of his neighbors; and yet fabulous things
were reported of the magnihcence of his rooms,
the quantity of his plate, the number of his do
nestle servants. His patriotism had been so
great that he had subscribed an immense sum to
the Loyalty Loan, and was rewarded by the
friendship fthe King and he title that adorned
his name. And when fifteen more years of this
seclusion and grandeur-this accumulation OF
wealth and preservation of dignIty-had accus-
toned the public ear to the sound of the million
naire's surname, it was thought natural result
of these surprising merits that he should be ell
evated to the peerage. He was now Lord War
leigh, of Combe Warleigh, and had a coat of
arms on the panels of his carriage which it was
supposed his ancestors had worn on their shields
ut the battle of Hastings. All men of fifty
thousand a-year can trace up to the Norman
Conquest. Though their fathers were hedgers
and pitchers. and their grandfathers inhabitants
of the poor-house. it is always consolatory to
their pride to reflect that the family as cid
/ as ever; that extravaganza, politics, tyranny.
had reduced it TO that low condition; and that il
was left for them to restore the ancient name to
its former glory, and to re-knit in the reign OF
George or William the line that was ruthlessly
broken on Bosworth field. Lord Warleigh, ii