The daily phoenix. [volume] (Columbia, S.C.) 1865-1878, 1866-06-24
PEG o'SHAucHNEssY. .
tCONCLUDED.

tcoNcLUDED.l
I found him in splendidly an
pointed house, in q fashionable
neighborhood, shrivelled, palsied
old man, an invalid chained to his
seat by his dressing room fire, while
his gay wife huttered abroad, and
scattered the money he had boarded
so gr1mly. The poor wretch was glad
to see me. When I had talked to
him awhile I found that there was
not a pauper in the streets more utter
-ly friendless than he. He spent his
days in handsome Jail, and my lady
was as finty-hearted keeper as ever
turned key on felon.
Sitting over his fire, with a lamp
shaded to SO dim q light that we
scarcely could see one another's faces,
while the carriages rolled past under
the windows, and echoes of thunder
ing knocks at gay hall doors reached
us, he told me the secrets of his life
since we last had met.
think 1t was because saw death
plainly written in his miserable face
that ! listened so tolerantly to his
whimpering complaints OF Lady
Humphrey. Her ill-treatment Of him,
which he cursed so bitterly, dated
back to the day after their marriage,
when he discovered that, instead of
a1lying himself with enormous wealth,
he had married penniless adven-
turess, who was deep in very slough
of debt, and existing upon the brink
of exposure and ruin. Never had
there been day of domestic peace
between them. She had treated him
like prisoner from the first, taken
possession of his money and his keys,
and even corrupted faithful Jacko,
whom she had pressed into her SER
vice. She spent q gay life abroad,
While he poor, creature, could hardly
crawl across his chamber alone. He
was savagely jealous of the people
amongst whom she spent her time,
the friends and admirers who loung-
ed about the drawing room; the let
ters and presents she received tor
mented him. There was certain
casket, it seemed, which she paraded
before his eyes, but of which he had
never seen the key. And the poor
wretch, brooding in his solitude,
painted for view of the interior Of
that casket, as though his very life
depended on what it might contain.
1 sat with him late that night;
promised to come back and see him
again, and did so, always ut night,
and invariably finding Lucretia from
home. In truth, [ did not want to
see her. The more I heard of her
doings, the more horribly strong
grew doubt which had risen within
me on the night of my first convcr-
sation with Giles Humphrey. 1t
clung to me night and day, and so
nearly did it approach conviction Mt
times, that it had like to drive me
insane.
I ventured to say to my uncle one
evening:
"Could it have possible that it was
Lady Fitzgibbon who committed the
robbery at Ballyhuckamore on that
memorable Christmas eve?"
But he stared Mt mo in amazement,
and said stupidity
"Why, don't you remember. it was
the little O'Shaughnessy who did
that piece of business? She told Oil
herself by dropping bracelet on the
step Of her door. Little good her ILL
gotten gains have done her, I hear,
for the old father died wretchedly.
the barrack of castle is eiven up to
the rats, and the wench herself is
drifting about, the devil knows
where!'
SO it was no use talking in this wav
to Giles Humphrey. Yet came to
see him again and again, hanging
about him in the vagne hope that
something might some day arise be-
tween him and his wife which might
chance to bring relief to my unhappy
state of mind. How bitterly did