The Cass County Republican. [volume] (Dowagiac, Mich.) 18??-1880, 1859-02-17
The Broken Hearted; or, Crime its own
Avenger.


The Broken Hearted; or, Crime ITS own
Avenger.
NEW LEAF FROM WE'LL KNOWN HISTORY.
We recently published letter in
which Harlow Case, the defaulting
Collector of Sandusky, announced the
deccase of the unhappy woman who
accompanied his flight, and implored
the forgiveness of her husband. Under
the title we have given above, mis-
sionary correspondent of the Boston
Watchman and Reflector describes an
interview with the guilty pair, which
took place shortly before death hurried
away the mother and the child whom
she had made the companion of her
wanderings. The subject is a painful
one, but the writer describes so feel
ingly and truthfully the selfinflicted
misery of Case and his partner in guilt,
that we reproduce his narrative:
What though the spicy breezcs
Blow soft Der Ceylon's Isle,
Though every prospect pleases,
And only man Is vile.
Curiously enough, was Just repeat
ing this stanza, when my new acquaint-
ance called for me. / had met him
while on business visit to Ceylon, as
countryman of mine, and was pleased
with the opportunity that afforded me
more intimate personal knowledge.
1 thought myself fortunate in falling
in with so agreeable gentleman, and
considered his face and manners pecu-
liarly refined. On our second meeting
noticed singular restlessness of the
handsome dark eyes, an irritable Bit
terness of the lips, and disposition to
be constantly on the move, shown in
the tapping of light bamboo cane, or
the motion of foot or hand.
These things, however, did not strike
me as singular at the time, but coupled
with what / afterwards learned, were
certain evidence that the man felt al
ready the cravings of the worm that
never dies.
One afternoon we left the little sea-
port town where / was sojourning, and
rode short distance into the interior
OF the gorgeous Island. Most glorious
were the surroundings on every hand.
With a prodigality quite undreamed OF
by the Inhabitants of colder cline,
nature had showered her most exquisite
floral gifts everywhere. Trees loaded
with sweet smelling flowers, their in
tense colors vieing with the foliage of
sicher green, from out of which they
rmiled tall cactus plants, with Grim
son, goblet-shaped blossoms; lilies,
gorgeous in the queenly unfolding OF
form and color-everything rich, lavish
and wonderful met our eyes, feasted to
fullness with this tropical luxuriance.
"That is my house," said my new
friend, pointing to a low-rooted cottage,
surrounded by a wide verandah, from
whose clinging vines sweet odors were
flung upon the soft atmosphere-but
from the moment the words were ut.
tered his geniality departed.
Within the cottage enclosure were
walks, bowers and fountains. Chaste
statuary was dispersed over the grounds
with most charming effect. The house
seemed almost fairy structure, rising
in the midst of flowers and foliage
And the man who sat beside me whose
smile mounted no higher than his lips
the dreamy, far-looking discomfort il
his eye growing every moment more
perceptible was the owner of the
Eden-like home.
We were met on the threshold by 9
lovely child of some eleven summers
Her hair hung in curls. Her eyes par
ticularly lustrous yet mournful IN beau
ty, and on the young brow / seemed te
see something-a shadow of sadness
An unchildlike quiet, as she greeted
my new friend.
Dressed in pure white, she glided il
before us, and to her was left the duty
of entertaining me; while Mr.. c., ex
cusing himself in the remark that sick
ness necessarily called him away, for {
half hour or so, left the room.
Is your mother very unwell?"
asked of the little girl who, with those
shadow-filled eyes of hers, was regard
ing me gently, but attentively.
es, sir, mamma las been sick &
long time" replied she, dropping hel
eyes, while her lips trembled.
Did You come from America ?' sht
asked timidly, after long silence.
Yes, my dear. Do YOU know anv
thing of that country?n returned
! growing more and more pleased witt
her expressive face.
1 Only that mamma came from there
and | think" she added, hesitatingly
I" that l did. But Mr.. c. will never le
me talk about it.
Are you then not the little daughte
of Mr.. G. ?'' / asked, somewhat aston
ished.
i II am nv mothers daughter an