Orleans independent standard. [volume] (Irasburgh, Vt.) 1856-1871, 1864-04-29
IRAsBURGH VERMONT, FRIDAY, APRIL 20, 1864.

my distress, | dared not write and tel
him that / knew he did not find It, les
my letter should be read before it wa
given him. | conld not be silent on tn,
subject, and urged my father to keeE
me from the public court, and preven
my being subp@ned as a witness.
Alas! it was in vain
She psused-moved by the old sac
memory.
What did you do ? we asked
The trial came on, she continued; i
was distinctly proved that the Delorain'
family aud their servant had passed fals'
notes, and that William had purchased
diamond ornament of jeweler ir
London and paid for it with forged
note. This tradesman was the chief wit.
ness against him. For his defence Delo-
raine declared, as he told my father, that
he had found the notes, and merely bor-
rowed their present use. My father was
called to testify to tho fact, and to state
what he thought of Deloraine's character.
The latter statement was Of course, ia
vorable, but on crosse examination it was
proved that my father had not actually
seen William pick up the book, and to
my horror and despair was put in the
witness box. can never forget it, AT
this moment | can see Determines eager
look at me-his look of love, trust and
hope. A word from me would give him
life "a word consisn him to the gal
lows! 1t was an awful temptation. But
I dared not fail in truth l could not -
no, thank God | was not perjured,
| tried to hold the truth back at least |
answered reluctantly; /; bat my cross-ex-
animation was severe, and when the
counsel for the prosecution asked me /;
Did you actually see William Deloraine
find the book p almost sbricked my
fatal Mo-
Did you see him take it from bis per-
son?'
There was long pause. / gasped
out, L didp And then I heard wild
piercing, cry from the prisoner. l re-
mem5ered no more, for tainted, and
was carried out of the court.
Deloraine was condemned to death.
He confessed his crime, my father told
me, and showed much earnestness in ac-
quitting his mother and Kate of all share
in it, They were consequently set at
liberty, for they also had heen under re-
straint.
But l was miserable. | felt like a
murderess, and besought ny father, as
he ever hoped to see me happy again, to
procure a commutation Of the sentence.
We had powerful friends, and Morton
used such exertions that, dificnlt as the
task was at that time, he achieved it, and
the sentence of Deloraine was changed
into transportation for life. All this
dreadful anxiety increased my previous
indisposition, ana it became impossible
for me to return home, as my father wish
ed, when the trial and his subsequent
efforts were over. So we remained by
the seaside. One day | received, to my
a letter from Kate Delora-
inc it was full of gratitude for my fa-
theirs goodness in saving her brother
from the last rigor of the law and re-
grets over his blasted life, and their own
ruined prospects. She did not blame me
for the part had in his conviction. She /
pitied me for it, and said poor William
admired my mistaken truthfulness.
And now, dear Jane, she concluded, |
/ am going to urge one last request.
We are about to leave England forever,
10 hide our shame and sorrow in a strange
land. We go Tomorrow. VIII you
come to the old cottage, and bid me last
farewell, and hear message poor Will
liam left, which viii explain and exten-
late, in some degree, his sad fault ?
This letter touched me deeply. II
greatly desired to see Kate once more,
10 assure her how cruelty had felt the
dreadful duty cast on me, and to hear
something nore of William DelOraine.
Ny father was from home: he had goh1
% spend few days with friend, some
en- or twelve miles off, ana was not to
return until next day, or perhaps the
'ollowing one. II he had been Mt home
should not have been permitted to go.
1t was a chilly, windy, April afternoon
when l started on my walk.
l hurried along, and in about an hours
ime found myself in the lane leading to
he cottage. 1t was very lonely place,
md association added to its natural gloom.
Just opposite the eastern gable of the
lwelling was an old oak, of great size,
which | was obliged to pass in approach
nr the door. As | glanced at il | per