Monmouth weekly herald. [volume] (Freehold, N.J.) 1854-1860, 1859-05-12
JOURNAL AND. BUSINESS DIRECToRY-ITs AIM, TO AMUsE, TO NsTRU(
MORNING, MAY 10. 1859.

and more intensely vivid it grew, and a,
| watched, long fakes of fire shot up into
the air. A fearful suspicion crossed my
mind the hall must be in flames, and my
father-where was he? / searched eve
ry corner, | called, he answered not
he came not at my cries. An hour Of
terrible suspense ensued. The flames had
died away, and looking out into the still,
dark night, | doubted whether all was
not the delusion of a heated Imagination.
A step upon the gravel path made me fly
to the door. Father l cried, but alas!
my gaze rested not upon his face, but on
that of a stranger, whom by his dress, l
recognized as a constable and behind
whom stood the steward and two farm
servants from the hall.
Il want John Flower" said the con
stable.
He is not here /" I gasped out. az
know not where he is"
Very 6ne," answered the man brutal.
", " but by your leave, I must search"
The steward, seeing my pale afrighted
face, said kindly, Do not be alarmed,
Miss Flower, if he can prove an abb he
is safe, and no one wishes him we'll out Of
it more than | do"
"Mr. Jepsor,' I cried, " Oh, pray, ex-
plain to me, what has my father done
why does this man seek him ?"
Why, it is a sad case, but the squire's
three largest ricks are burned down, and
as Farmer Flower has threatened to be
revenged, we suspect he knows more of
the affair than any one else"
As the steward uttered these words,
my father stood upon the threshold and
with a cry of joy | clasped him in my
arms. Foolish girl that | wasl | fan
cied that there he was safe but | was
soon deceived. Stepping quickly up, the
constable placed his hand upon his Shout.
der, saying, : John Flower, you are my
prisoner"
II know what you suspect me of said
father, - and snlemnlv declare / know
nothing about it, further than that, as /
was guiding a gentleman and his servant,
who had lost their way. we watched the
confagration from the top of Colston
Hill, and after | set them on the right
road for Warwick, I returned through
the village to learn what had happened"
If that's the case" said the constable,
with more politeness than he had shown
before, "you are safe enough, if you can
bring your man forward if not you must
come with me-"
"Then," replyed my father, with a bit
ter sigh, | must go with you, for | Meth.
er know the gentleman's name, nor any
thing about him except that he was going
to Warwick, and had lost his way .
Then addressing me, he said consolingly,
"Jessy, don't be alarmed, my poor child;
| shall get off, never fear. Mr.. Jepson
will take care of you until | return"
THAT | WILL" said the. kind hearted
steward "she shall not want of any
thing that | ear get her."
Gently removing the arms I still held
round him, my father entered the cart
that was waiting for him. The steward
took a seat on one side, the constable the
other. They drove off, leaving me with
an aching heart to pass my first solitary
night in This cottage.
That long night was over at last and
the first grey dawn of morning saw me
on the road to Warwick. My one desire
was to seek out the nameless stranger, on
whose word hung my fathers liberty. l
resolved to let nothing hinder me until l
found him. The sun was high in the
heavens, when hot, f~ootsore and weary. |
passed under the archway of that ancient
town ; but my heart beat high with hope,
aDd my sorrows seemed to sit less heavi-
ly upon me, now that the energy of my
nature was aroused. From inn to inn |
went. At only INT had a gentleman ar
rived the previous night, and he had
come from a direction contrary to our
village. l inquired diligently if any
one had been received into a private
house during that evening, without sue
cess. None to whom | applied had seen
the strangers pass through the town even.
Broken down and crushed in spirit, l
walked YEARLY back to my desolate
home. Many Of the n~eighbors came in
during the evening hours ; but their off
cious pity annoyed me, while the certain
ty with which they spoke of my poor
fathers guilt enraged me. | was but too
glad to be left to pass another lonely
night. Very often, during the long hours
did my thoughts turn to Frank, with a
longing wish that he was near me. l
thought if be only knew our peril that he
could save US.
The following day / learned that my
father, having appeared before the mag.
~istrate, had been committed for trial at
the assizes, which were to be held the
following week. How l passed the day
until the time of trial, l know not. Some
few kind friends out of pity for my con-
exerted themselves to trace the
strange gentleman, in whose existence,
however, scarcely one Of them, | fancy,
believed. Whether it was their want of
faith made them luke warm, / know not,
but their efforts were unattended with the
slightest success. Half of the village
went over to hear the trial, in which
many of the inhabitants took a deep in
terest farmer Flower was much respec-