Orleans independent standard. [volume] (Irasburgh, Vt.) 1856-1871, 1863-04-03
WHOLE NUMBER 37S.

aud the old dog IN lis kennel were Inc
only living beings that met my eyes =
and turning to Mr. Archer, | said, at
last, Il give it up
"And withdraw your accusation 2 he
asked.
at is useless pressing tbem," said
bitterly "but how can ! disbelieve my
own senses ?"
even our senses may deceive US" be
said quietly.
knew what he meant very well His
firm step, when we returned to the kitch-
en-, was to 90 up to old Pearce and apol-
ogize gravely and formally for the dis
turbance he had caused. His next was
to turn to me, saying; There can be no
further reason for my remaining; will
wish you good morning, hoping that your
painful impression may wear off"
His words came in strangely with the
thought in my own mind. Was it, after
all, dream, delusion of my own, crea-
ted by the lads story aud the desolaate
house ? Had that midnight visit excited
nv own fancy alone? Was Mr. Archer
right, and going mad? With that hor'
ribe idea now first striking me, stood
silent until Mr. Archer again repeated
his farewell. Then / reused myself
" Good-by," said. "Aiier all you may
be right, and / wrong. Stop" And
nv voice ia a new tone echoed through
the room. was standing by the win
dow, and close TO my right hand was a
common kitchen cupboard, and at that
very instant had heard a moan come
from it. Inever could have heard it had
not been so near I could hardly hear
it now; but turned and laid my hand
on the key. and as Ldid SO the old man
with an oath sprang up and rushed upon
me. There was q confused struggle, a
loud outcry, and he was on the ground,
and I was wrencbing open the door. 1t
yielded to my strength, and there, on the
floor of the narrow closet, bound hand
and foot, and gagged, lay the poor wo-
man for whom I had been seeking, pow
erless to move or cry out, though with
/
help so near, and only able, BY her des-
perate efforts, to utter that one faint moan
which had just reached my ears. We
lifted her up and unbound her, but she
spoke no word, only her wild eyes roam
ed incessantly about, and she clung TO me
with grasp that seemed as though it
never would unloose. and Mr.. Archer
led her away, leaving the two men to
bring old Pearce afterwards, for he made
no resistance and only gared savagely
round upon US all.
Il was many hours before Ann Forrest
could speak Of what bad happened to
her; but that afternoon, in Mr.. Archer's
study, her hand still clasping mine, she
told her dreadful tale--how in old times
she had known the Pearces well, and
once had even helped to nurse the wo-
man how they had asked her carelessly
one day about her masters money-box,
and she had told them, not thinking any
harm, and had never dreamed OF any,
until the cruel deed was done. That
evening she had been busy in the house
ill afle er nightfall, and then went down
the garden to call her master in to sup
per; but as she neared the spot, where
he was wont TO sit, she saw two figures
bending over something on the ground,
and as she stood to watch, saw, too, that
it was her master who lay there, and
running forward with a cry in sudden
horror, had fallen the next moment, stun
ned by blow upon the head. She knew
no more until she awoke 10 find herself
/ in the lonely room at Brocklthurst, and
learned that they bad brought her there
to ward suspicion from themselves; that
her life had for the time been spared, be-
cause the woman, bearing grateful mem
ory of that kind nursing, had vowed TO
tell all if they harmed her, and might
baye kept her vow; and SO for all these
terrible months, one weak woman had
alone stood between her and frightful
death. OF the end of that suspense, of
the morning when the old man, coming
up alone, bad found the key, despite the
/ frantic efforts she bad made, still in the
lock, and guessing the secret from that
and from her terror, had bound and hid
den her from her approaching deliver
ers, and arranging al things in her pris-
on, had sent his wife and son away and
stayed himself on guard--of all this she
could not even now speak without con-
vulsive shudders, and we did not press
4 her.
My story is we'll nigh told. The father
and son suffered for their crimes; the VIC
man was mercifully dealt with. We did
not take Brocklehurst Grange, for we
could not bear that our innocent children
should live in scenes darkened by such
deeds but we did 90 elsewhere. Years
afterwards there might be seen moving
about the house pale, tall woman. dark
lly dressed, gentle in manner, and very,
very quiet. To her my wife turned for
: sympathy in every trouble in her arms
I the children loved to lie when sick, or
sorrowful. From her had the most
faithful and devoted service and she died
at last, holding my hand, and thanking
1 me with her eyes, even when her voice
Dar name WAS