Nashville patriot. [volume] (Nashville, Tenn.) 1858-1860, 1858-08-25

Jd0e'S, Dut ne Ddu Qu1le suCceeueu III 60
doing. Although she bad not consented to
her uncle's threat being held over him-and
happy was it that it did not rest with her to
use it-she could not but feel comfort from
the event Six months experience Of free
dom did wonders in restoring her roses and
tightening her heart of a sorrow that
seemed likely to crush it altogether. She
began to move about less like an automaton,
to war the smile of content, If not of merri-
ment, and to be in some sort like the Jane
Raby of five years before. Then came some
news which made her serious and silent
while, but could scarce have made her sad:
Heathcote was dead in the bush, slain by the
hand of one of his own wicked companions.
In a concealed pocket within his vest was
found the roll of hank notes in their still
unbroken cover. 1t had escaped the eyes
of the murderer, or the passing by of some
honest settlers had disturbed him in his
unfinished search. They forwarded the parcel
to Mr.. Raby, with a narration of these facts
A year after this event. it would have been
impossible to recognize the spirit-bowed and
fragile Mrs. Heathcote in the by no means
incOnsolable widow which she had then
become. Thanks to her brief matrimonial
career, she was not rich. but beautiful and
happy as you see her now. Mr.. Grantlev or
rather you did her until within these
few months. NV brother married her with
the full knowledge of her former life. and has
never had a moments cause, as he says him
self. to regret his chnce.n
his narration. which the hind-hearted but
misdoubting little old maid made piquant
with various garnishments of her own. in the
way of filings at the foOlishness of Young girls.
and the futility OF early marriages. did not
much enlighten me as to what was ailing with
poor Mrs Markham. although it increased nv
interest in her fortunes. Her conduct to-
wards myself remained unaltered. or was
marked by even greater cOmmunicativeness.
She put to me several hypothetical cases of
conscience of which could see no possible
bearing on herself and begged me, as a cer-
gyman, to give her my best opinion on the
subject. She told me she had often hewailed
the having no children which she bad once
considered to be the sole blessing that had
been denied her; but that now she thanked
God she was childless. The horrible thought
began to cross me that my dear benefactress
and firm friend going out of her mind;
and that idea grew stronger. although Miss
Markham shook her head at it, and hoped it
might be no worse. She good per-
son as ever lived. but she had the weakness
of her order, which somehow is ALWAYS to
think the worst that can he of all her sex.
But when had seen Mrs. Markham come out
of the frwOod, under the sancliff, a little after
sunrise one morning, and she told me, pale
a spectre, and quivering in every limb. that
she had only been to get an appetite for break
fast: when she asked me at another time for
the loan Of twenty pounds for very pressing
emergency and begged me to keep it secret;
and when | complied with these things, her
piteous endeavors. so transparent to myself
and her sister-in-law. to conceal her unhappy
condition at all times-a mark most signifi-
cant of an unsettled brain-I felt quite sure
of my painful surmise being but too true. |
was even debating how to break this horror
to Mr.. Markham. that remedial measures
might he resorted to before it was too late.
when a circumstance occurred which changed
nv suspicion into a certainty even still more
terrible.
II.
1t was on a Tuesday, in the midsummer,
and the squire was gone to a meeting, likely
to be stormy one upon education, at the
neighboring town: Miss Markham, ever de-
sirous Of doing a little shopping. had accom-
panied him. and had intended to have done
so likewise, had not the illness of parish
Toner suddenly prevented it. His case requir
ing certain ailments which were not within
the scope of our resources at the vicarage, |
walked down to the Grange, according to
custom, to request that they might be sent to
the sick mans cottage. Mrs. Markham was
not within; but the beauty of the afternoon
enticed me upon a terrace. the extremity of
which communicated with the walled garden.
The gate was always kept locked, knew. and
only the squire and the head gardener had
the keys of it. Saunterfng slow v along upon
the turf and drinking in the prospect dream
ilv had reached the extremity of the walk,
and was about to turn, when heard the whis-
pering of voices. / could not see who the
persons were, for they were behind the wall
in the garden close below me. They had no
business there, | knew, and had probably
come after some very choice melons of the
squiIe's. | made no scruples, therefore. OF
listening: hut after the first few words, felt
as though would have given both my ears
rather than have done so.
II tell you Jane, that now or never is 9Th. the
t6cday, Which will go to the bank to morrow.
Markham is away at Buffham. and it will not
kill him when he comes home to find it
gone
"Neverr' said a clear full voice, which |
knew to be Mrs. Markham's. Il will die first.
! will go away with you yourself, before l
would rob my husband
Your husband?'' said the other with
sneer. Pooh, poohl you need not be so
squeamish for few pounds, since you are in
for so many pennies already. Why, you have
made free of hundreds
Not shilling" she interrupted, vehement
lv-"not one shilling have you touched of his.
My own Injuries, my comforts, the wants of
Gods own poor, have gone to support your
profigacy; but not one penny of his, Heaven
knows"
"Jane." said the rufian slowly, ''take you
good heed to what say; I'll blow upon you,
and tell all to his face. III carry you of,
swear it, before his very eyes. What you have
known of me hitherto is nothing to what you
shall know of me when you aud L come TO
live together again." | seemed TO see and
feel through the wall itself the shudder that
ran through the poor lady's frame at these
words. II had thought the worst of her,
s.-N Il q 1.,,a nod 1T
her wicked husband, Heathcote, was indeed
alive and prosecuting her with heart more
terrible than ever, my heart would not have
bed for her less painfully, my Indignation
would not have risen higher; but as il was,
my teeth were grinding in my wrath. and my
stick was furiously grpped. as though it were
a sword. Silently like a thief in the night,
/ stole down to the wall. and setting my feet
in some convenient crevices, peered cautiously
above it. Both. luckily had their faces turn
ed away from me; but | could see, even on
the mans back, scoundrel and coward writ
ten. His poor wife's wrongs and goodness,
and all that / had heard of his brutality,
swept over me in sea of indignation. Oh.
for one quarter of an hour of my college days,
before had put on that ecclesiastical garb
Oh. 10 have given him ever 20 brief an ex-
ample of that zone, two," which remember
TO have had some skill in in the bygone time.
Nv years and profession, indeed, Were already
so far forgotten, that | rather wished he might
have just laid his hand upon her in his rage.
My stick was an ashen one, and would not
have broken for some time | think. He
wanted to do it. l could see by the witch
ing fingers; the bowed aud trembling, but
still graceful fguIe-the appealing sobs, for
which could only guess the meaning-the
young life withered aud struck down in it,
joy by his cruel threats and presence-they
moved him not one jot. S L dared not trust
myself to look any longer, but resumed my
station at the foot of the wall. After storm
of meances, met by almost hysteric expostu-
lations that grew fainter every moment, /
heard him saw: ''You know where | am 10
be tonnd. woman; and if what demand does
not come to my hand within the next eight
and-forty hours, come TO this house sure
~ as you are my wife, and claim you.n |