Bradford reporter. [volume] (Towanda, Pa.) 1844-1884, 1858-03-18

it was opened, and in walked Gilbert and two
of his followers The poor mother saw all at
glance. Rushing to the side window, she
threw it up, and screaming " Fly dearest Har-
ry-ily J" endeaTored to impede the further
advance of the officers. The effort was use
less, in moment they had dragged him from
the window, and had led him away a prisoner
to the door where I've stood breathless with i'm
potent rage the astoniShment at the sudden
ness of his capture. Poor Mrs Brown rush
ed to the door, and then stood wringng her
hands in all the helpIessness of despair, till
she saw the men preparing to march Henry
off, when she said
George Gilbert, | did not think two and
twenty years ago, when you and | stood to-
gether in my fathers garden. that YOU would
ever bring me sorrow like this--that you could
ever ruin the husband and child of one VINO
never sought to injure yOu or yours"
Softly, my dear madam" sneered Gilbert,
in fierce whisper, which though unheard by
his men, was perfectly audible to the wretched
mother. "Do YOU remember sitting on the
cliff twenty-one years ago, and gggfng with
John Brown, at that poor simpleton, George
| Gilbert as you then phrased it, as though
! proud mans love were worthy of nothing more
! than weak girls hearleSs laughter z" Then,
mOtiOning her few steps farther off his men
and their prisoner, he continued, " if you have
! forgotten that, | have not--do you remember
! it, Mrs. Brown, a0tc !'
She did, indeed, remember all too wtIl.-
George" gasped she, mercy-mercy for
the sake Of my boy, who never harmed you.
| was but silly girl in those days-you will
not-you cannot seek to crush my home for
such girliSh folly as that Georgc-if you
, ever loved me, pity me now. | have been
punished already too far by the loss of poor
John. Is there no mercy George ?" asked
| she, looking imploringly into the revenue Off
GERS stern face, which for an instant worked
convul>ively, and then Subsded into its won't
ed passionless expression.
After awhile he answered in husky voice.
| Kate Brown think of what might have
! been for though the son of ruined father,
! had, some fools said, talent, and | would,
for your sake, have made place for US in the
word-and then think of all have suffered
think Of what | am-tho dctested revenue
spy. Think of the struggle that must have
been here, where a heart once was, ere love
was turned to undying hate like mine, and
| then ask yourself if there can be any mercy
for Won, at the hands of a man like me ?'
She answered not word, but gazed at him
like one distraught, as he said to his men
Now, my lads away with him." and turn
ing to the weeping mother added, TO share
| hope, if not at present, his fathers fate"
and the young man was dragged off. But
| the party had not advanced many yards when
with all effort OF desperate strength, he wrest-
ed his arm from one of his captors, knocked
him down, and snatchng the cutlass from the
others grasp Struck him fearful blow access
the head. The man fell bleeding at his feet,
as Harry, waving his weapon, shouted to Gil
| bert to come on. I'm an instant Gilbert, who
was some yards in the rear, stood before him,
and pointing Il pistol at the young mans
breast said in a voice Of quiet determination
Young man. will you surrender, and come
| quietly with me ?"
The only answer vCrschSafed By the gallant
young smuggler, was q rapid thrust at the
officer, who as quickly parred it with his cut
| lass, and saying Your blood be upon your
own head y fired
Harry Brown bounded high mp in the air
and fell on his face, at Gherts feet, stark
dead, with bullet through his heart.
The neighhors hearing the report, rushed
ont with lights to tie scene. and there found
Gilbert standing, with a pistol in one hand
and a sword in the other Even htS iron heart
! resented, and his eyes grew dim as the child
less mother flung herself upon the body of the
| dead boy, and poured forth her lament over
| him. in all the wild elcquence of sorrow.
And Harry Brown shortly after was borne
to the churchyard, and buried under the gray
wall looking seaward and every day for three
wrctChetl months did his heart broken mother
come to sit upon her chlds grave, to mourn,
| like Rachel of old, refusing to be cOmfOrted
Her mind, which had never been strong
gave way at last, and in six months from her
sons death reason fed forever She went to
reside with relative Of her husbands as d
hopeless idiot. She was very quiet and per-
! fectly inotfensive, and spent long hours each
day in sitting on the brow of the cliff, looking
over the sea, asking every passer by 4" if he
| (Incaning her huSband) had come back yet ?"
Oac morning they missed her from her ac-
cuStomed seat on the cliff They feared at
lir>t that Sire had fallen over into the sea, till
some viaTeF said that I've had seen her enter
ing the churchyard there, by her sons grave,
with her arms peacefully folded over her breast
| lay poor Mrs Brown as though asleep-yng
there dead in the bright sunshine, by her boys
grave.
And Brown in his convict home, thousands
of miles away, heard these things by letter
from his friends who lived in England
Five years had passed since the events
have jast narrated when John Brown who
by his good conduct. had obtained a ticket of
leave, and had amasSed, by honest industry,
good sum Of money in the colony, whittier in
pursuance of his sentence, he had been sent,
escaped to England Time and sorrow had
altered the once dashng smuggler into care
worn man, with hard lines on his brow, and
grizzled locks, and face so sadly changed,
that he had small cause to fear recognition in