The morning star and Catholic messenger. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1868-1881, 1868-09-27
of a pair worn by Richard Dunno. It was
peculiar glove, of a deep buff color,
s~k j

the wrist-a sort of thing that insensibly
attracts ones eye at the moment, even
which flashes across ones memory as some
thing we have seen before, when we meet
with it.. Willie paused. Who can unravel
the chain Of association that one passing
thought will awaken in an instant Z He had
never thought once of the by gone threats
once uttered by Riehard. He had attached
little weight to them. at the time, and
| looked on them more as burst of passionate
excitement than seriously meant. Why did
I they flash across his memory now? Why
did they comesin connection with the ques-
ton put to him that very day by Franks
enemy, of any one who has grudge against
Frank, or who wants to revenge a real or
fancied injury 7"
Willie stood quite still for several min
utes, lost in thought, then he folded up
| the glove, placed it in his pocket, and left
! his mind as he walked home, and came to
| the conclusion that it would be his duty to
| lay what he knew before Mr.. Fox, the
solicitor, in confidence.
| He shrank from acknowledging even to
himself that Richard Dunno was capable of
such crime, and dismissed that idea with
| shudder; but, aware as he was that
| Richards private life in many particulars
| would not bear to be brought to the light
of day, he thought it was possible some
evil companion mi ght know of his early
disappointment, and have desired to avenge
him. DAT all events,' concluded Willie,
90 the safest way is to tell what 1 know.
Mr.. Fox said if he had only the .faiatest
clue, something that could give him an
idea which way to turn but at present it
is s simply 1hgy maze ase from beginning to end,
to Fox on Monday about it."
= An hour later, and Father O'Donnell
| took his place in the confessional. The
church was crowded, for the following day
would be the first Sunday in the month,
confessional and knelt beside the priest.
Some had long tales of guilt and misery
grace had touched their hearts, and brought
them at last to the tribunal of mercy.
Others were making feeble resistance to
i the manifold temptations of their lot; were
not patient under the heavy load of poverty,
hardship, and care, and came to be strength
ened and encouraged. And others came,
those wonderful beings who may be found
again and again among the poor of Catholic
countries, who shrink from the shadow of
| a sin; who, though unknown, despised,
poor, and neglected, are exceedingly great
in the eyes of God and His Angels. Many
of these he was guiding in the path of per-
fiction, and they were his joy and cOnso-
lation amidst his weary toll. The night
| drew on, and the numbers began to thin.
Presently, from dark corner of the
church, where he had been sitting for some
time, hidden in the shadow himself but
watching the scene, came the figure of a
man wrapped in large cloak, with the
velvet collar buttoned so as to hide the
among whom he kneIt could not help no
ticing that the quality and the richness of
tho cloth and the velvet were of a superior
kind to that ordinarily worn by the fire.
quenters of that confessional, and with the
instructive humility of the poor they drew
and Lot l,sfa hi fffrf
Simple old Bridget O'ConnOr, who was
telling her beads, thought perchance it
might be poor gentleman that had been
long absent from the sacraments, and
began tese offer up her aves for him. o,
Bridget, pray on, pray with all your heart,
for at this moment, though you know it
not, mighty battle is going on between
the powers of good and evil!
ayes, father, you Know me-" was
breathed into Father O'Donnell's ear, by
a voice he too well recognized. 81
come now to fulfill the promise l made
never for gotten or lost sight of for an hour.
Mine was to be no ordinary revenge !;
it was to be deep, and real, and certain. 1
could afford to wait and bide my time, and :,
10, the hour is come. 1t was who took the
notes from the private drawer. 1, unknown
to my uncle, procured n second key when
last in London, for had taken Il fac simle
of the lock in wax with me. 1t was | who
sent that note to you two nights ago, by
the hands of one who would sell her soul
to serve me. 1t was L who put the other
five notes into the table in Franks drawing
room and the last and seventh note is now
in my possession. The train is wefi-faid
Father O'Donnell, and Franks doom is
sealed. No earthly being suspects me no
mortal can suspect me but yourself, and,
, therefore, 1 come hither- this night to seal
your lips"
He paused at length, and his eyes,
, glowing with satisfied rage, tried to peer
into the priests face, but it was hidden
from him. There had not been gesture
/, or 9 movement while he spoke, and the