The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1858-07-17
an anterrstiaa e5torp.
The new Soul Of John Markham.
BY TIE AUTHOR OF rnh " uAsiiI.nsu EATER. .

Fifteen years had rolled away since
last | stGGd i'll the market mace Of the
city of Jiartfo | left il when the
turf was green and tue thruSlles were
making music in the ellns; the turf was
green, the birds were singing now.
saw staid man in black 20 by, gravely
smiling 10 the children, and knew he was
tlIc settled clergyman, but not the one j
left there. There were countrymen
standing BY their carts in the market
women chattcring with penny-worth pur-
chascrs in the stalls carriages driving
into the street, with Indies on an airing,
from the Watering place near by: old
men and young men, women and girls
the manner OF life was even as when
left it: the forms, the faces of that once
familiar life were forever gone.
All fifteen years make great differ
ence5 for returning man. Wherever
he may have passed thcm--in home as
cheerful as the one abandoned, amidst
the caresses of the beloved, surrounded
by pleasant prospects, fondlcd by pros
pcrity-if he will 30 back to the old
place, let him remember chilly pain in
the heart awaits for him there, when he
shall see how trees and houses and the
very street stones stay, but the living
pass and are forgotten.
Bat when IL man has spent his absence
as | spent miuc-for had not been on
the continent, listening now to Rose
therie, now to Thalbcre, now to Che
cathedral cadenccs of Nelino, where the
il 'ods break from his rcsounding lips
under the ever-bluc arch of the italian
sky: | had not been waited to the
PIPER Cataracts, bathcd in the ncpcnthe
Of that air which lul}s the lIowalji; |
| had not been living with friends who,
shoulder to shoulder, worked with me
hopefully in the daytime, or welcomed
me at night to II glowing household
heart III a room where my children sat
upon my knee, where the rosy freight
danced will. tie shadows on the wall,
where woman beloved huShed down the
business echoes in my heart with rich
old ballad, in a soft, young voice.
do not often call upon those fifteen
years, they are melancholy, madlening
ghosts. But when do, thc>inusic with
which they stalk into my thought is such
It's this monotonous sound of ham,
'ners-cliuil, clinl, link-always in the
same measure, and broken Oh y hy the
fall of stone fragments; heavy clang
Of iron doors mcrcilcS>ly shut to in rcycr-
bcratin@ corridors, with nothing but my
own breathing, my own pulse coming
attcrward; | spent my fifteen years in
prison.
Do you ask bow came there! The
story is not a long one. | was a junior
partner in the banking house of my elder
brother, near Hartford. One evening
about nine o'clock. as l was leaving the
steps of my lodging, a heavy hand fell
upon my shoulder, and turned to sec a
shcritt's officer, with his assistant, stand
Ing close by me. On the opposite side
OF the street the light shonc morrily from
the window OF the woman | loved. |
was on my way to answer their invita-
ton, and felt, rs every true man feels on
such an GRAND, gentle toward all lluman-
lty. SO did not roughly push aside
the intcrloper's hand, as ordinarily /
would have done, but quietly moved out
from under it, and said, P" Ny man,
there is some mistake here. You have
| taken the wrong person.
Any one who knows what it is to lose
so completely, in a fearful dlcam, the
sclf-possession on which he would steady
himself that he can no longer say, "This
is only DREAM" begins to hnow that it
is actual, will realise how the awful truth
broke ON me in an instant, as the officer
answered.
That won't do; you arc John Mark.
ham, Of Hartford. In tho name of the
Commonwealth, | arrest You for forgery -
just then, on the opposite side Of the
street the curtain went down at the
window, and knowing in my soul that i,
dropped forever between me and the enc
being who i'll her heart held all things
for which lived, felt quick cold
sluddcr run through me, and my knees
Smotc together like towards. | said
no more but went with my captor.
The first night in Jail All, that was
terrible! The clammy, cchoing stones
Of the floor over which | paced in the
darkness did not hurt NE hy their hard
ness. The foul coarse pallet on which,
at intervals threw myself in my be-
wildercd WEAKNESS, did not chafc me by
its coffin narrowness. | was beyond
hurt from such things; for, i'll the five
minutes between my lodgings and my
cell, ] had become aware that / was
brought to position whose sublime
awfulncss could not be e1uallod by any
thing on earth. Quicker by far than
can write, yet in this channel had my
thoughts run.
My brother, three days ago, gave me
in private IL heavy draft, to be collected
at another clearinghouse, drawn in his
favor by one of his correspondents, and
endorsed by another. / remember that
he looked restless when he gave it to
me; that he hurried from the room inn
mcdiately afterward. | presented the
draft; l received the money twas put
into his hands; the books which | keep
bear no account Of it. He forged the
papcr-I am the suspected one. / have
no means Of proving my innocence,
unless, perhaps, by proving his guilt
That, most likely, is impossible. AT