The Lancaster ledger. [volume] (Lancaster, S.C.) 1852-1905, 1858-10-20

errand, gentle toward all humanity. So
did not roughly push aside the iniorlo
per's hand, as ordinarily / would have
done, but quietly moved out from under
1t, and said, My man, there is some mis-
take @erc. You have taken the wrong
person.
Any one who knows what it is TO loose
so completely, in fearful dream, the self
| possession on which he would steady
himself. that he can no longer say, 'Tis
only dream but begins to knop that
1t is actual, will realize how the awful
truth broke on me in an instant as the of
ticer answered.
That won't do; you are John Mark
ham of Hartford. In the name of the
Commonwealth | arrest you for forgery.'
Just then on the opposite side Of the
street, the curtain went down at the ligh-
tel window, and knowing in my soul that
it dropped forever be,Nee me and the
one being who in her held all things for
which lived, ] felt quick cold shudder
OF agony run through me, and my knees
smote together like a towards. said
no more, but went with nv cantor.
The first night in Jail! All, that was
terrible !! The clammy, echoing stones Of
the floor over which paced in the dark.
ness did not hurt me in their hardness
The foul coarse pallet on which at inter-
walls | threw myself in my bewildered
WEAKNESS, did not chafe me 10y its cotiin
narrowness. | was beyond hurt from
such things; for in the five minutes he.
tween my lodgings and my cell had be-
come aware that was brought to po-
! sIion whose sublime awfulness could not
be equaled by anything e'se on Garth
! Quicker by far than can write, vet in
this chaancI had my thoughts run.
My brother, three days ago. gave me
IN private heavy draft TO be collected at
another banking house, drawn in his Ia
vor 10y one OF his correspondents and in
| dorsed by another remember that he
looked restless when lie gave it to me :;
! that he hurried from the room Immediate
Iy aiIerward, presented the draft ;
received the money; the books, which
keep, bear no account Of it. He forged
the paper. ] am The suspected one. [
have no means Of proving my innocence,
unless, perhaps, by proving his guilt
That, most like, is impossible. At any
rale, what - terrible step for man to take
against his dead mothers only other child.
And he has n lovely wife whom il would
slay. Yet | myself have--O God shut
out her image from me II must not see
it; | shall go mad
In lhis grove my thoughts rolled back
and forward through the night. Facing
this alternative stood till the day of my
Irial-just one month. My brother came
Ol'en 10 see me /; he lavished tears and
embraces upon me ; he retained for me
the best % couusei-yet he always seem
ed like one in de.irum Of fever, and
ever just as lie. turnkey swung back the
heavy door to let him out. he would stop
for a moment, trembling. and with his
lips half opened as IL about TO say some.
thing more to me--lhcn, without meet.
ing my eye, he would rush from tho cell.
Suffering as was, suffering still more, as
| was about TO be, from tie consequences
of lis sim coald pity him deeply. !
could forbear with the cowardice which
could not confess. for knew how priceless
liberty must be to man who, losing it,
leaves his other soul in that most heart.
broken of all wilowbood widow.
| hood Of convict's wife.
She whom | loved visited me MANY
times-always bringing mo sweet messa.
| ges in her presence from the birds, and
! the flowers, and the free sky outsile-al
ways talking with voice intensely sus
tanned into cheeriulness Of my scquittal.
and restoration 10 our old hopes. told
her was innocent, and she believed me-.
| could not tell her who was guilty.
My trial came on. | need not pain
myself with long recital Of the tlirong
ed court, the weary questIonings and
cross-questionings, the audible silence of
The crowd when the pleas were made, the
moment whose shadow fell upon me when
The foreman solemnly sai,. 'guiity'-that
other moment when was condemned 10
the awful alienage Of prison for the fifteen
! years TO come.
| Then ] parted from home and friends.
My brother did not bid me good bye he
1 lay sick Of a raging fever, on whose chan.
ces hung life, But she, the holy, the he
roic--who had borne all things, came 10
see me go. she clasped my manacled
hands in her own; she pressed one long,
last kiss upon the convict's lips, ard said,
with solemn cheesfulness, u viii wait
for your Then, with superstition
which, frivolous though il seem, still crept
into the awfuluess OF that hour, stopped
my watch, aud vowed inwardly that its
hands should never more move till we
met again.
After that the gates Of my prison open
ed to let in but one message from the life
outside. The ehapIain brought me lock
Of well known soft brown hair, and told
me, with a tear in his eye, that an old
man bad given it to him for me, saying,
MY daughter is with God. She died
whispering that she would wait for John
Markham
endured the knowledge Of her death
with benumbed patience, uncompIain
s,ult, raxaiu uuoantan ainxla 1s.a II