Delaware tribune. [volume] (Wilmington, Del.) 1867-1877, 1868-08-20

chasse, James Pilot, and Chevaller De Ia
Csoix were sole executors. All were well
known citizens of New Orleans and intimate
personal and business friends of Clark.
Such will, 1t is asserted, did exist pre-.
vious to Daniel Clark's death. II was en-
tirely in his handwriting, duly signed and
scaled. He had shown it to several intimate
friends, read it to some, informed others ol
its contents and spoken of its existence to
others still. -Four months before his death
says M. Bisfontaine, he spoke to me of q
new will. Twenty-Five days before his
death he said, I" 1t is DONE" Ten days later
be handed q package to the Chevaler De la
Croix for his inspection in my presence,
death he again referred to it. and said il was
placed in his private room in a !" little black
case'
The end drew near. Under the fervid
summer sun the rich merchant was dying.
Two hours before he died he once more re-
ferred to the subject which seemed so much
to agitate him.
1t was natural that 1t should do SO. 1t
was justice to his daughter-the child of the
woman whom he loved.
In this last moment he solemnly charged
Boisfontaine and Lubin to fail not in hand
ing to De la Croix, when all should be over,
| thC PiOtiouo DttiC bihCh CdSC.
Then he became unconscious.
And then, says Mrs Gaines-then, say
the witnesses whose dispositions support her
-Relf, the partner, turned to the 0rnsoire,
took up the punches of keys, and left the
room. Lubin followed him moment after,
and passed the door of the private room.
He tried to enter, but il was locked. He
heard a noise as of rustlng among papers,
When the little black case came to be ex-
amined, no will was there!
Instead of it Messrs. Relf and Chew pro-
duced the will of 1911. 1t was admitted to
| probate and they assumed charge of the
| dead merchants great estates.
In 1912, Colonel Davis, with his family,
including his little daughter Myra, removed
to Philadelphia, and some years later he
took up his residence at handsome place
on the outskirts Of Wilmington. Here passed
the later years of Myra's girlhood Her
supposed father, though living in comfort,
and even elegance, was q man of marked
character, subject to serious outbreaks of
temper, when provoked, and received at his
mansion no very wide circle of society.
Myra had limited acquaintance and few
intimate friends. At this distance of forty
years, there are very few persons in Will
mington who retain distinct knowledge of
Colonel Davis daughter Myra.
Lhc VI lliC blliLGu lHGIt Culut
to her guardians home young gentleman
from New York, William Wallace Whitney.
He brought with him ample letters of intro
duction but for some reason Colonel Davis
failed to regard him favorably. If he met
with no very warm response in that quarter,
however, he had ample compensatiOn-he
gained the love of Myra.
AT this discovery her guardian grew fear
fully angry. He forbade the correspondence
between the lovers. He intimated that he
had another and more distinguished alliance
in view From some of his disclosures she
gained the first intimation that he was not
her father.
The correspondence, of course, continued
AT length Whitney wrote TO Colonel Davis
that he would again visit his house and as
sert the propriety ofhis addresses, and claim
from him an acknowledgment OF bis position
as suitor. At this the wrath of the guar
dian knew no bounds. He ragged and
threatened. He would shoot the audacious
lover. He would challenge him. He
should not leave Wilmington alive. Myra
became seriously alarmed.
In this condition of affairs she resolved
that she must meet her lover and warn him
not to come. This she must do in secret
She secured the services of faithful servant
TO take her, late at night, in the carriage to
waited till the household sank into quiet
and then hurried down to meet the old
coachman. The night was dark and stormy
The rain fell in torrents. She had hastily
gathered u slender supply of clothing into
her trunk, and the servant helped her carry
it to the carriage.
III trembling anxiety lest the hounds,
which had been carefully tied up by the SER
want, might still give an alarm, or that some
other mischance should betray them, the
frightened girl sprang into the carriage, and
they drove silently down the avenue. APP
prehensive of pursuit, they fancied they
heard noise behind them. They did not
pause to open the avenue gates, but pressed
the horses against them and burst them out
ward Hurrying down the road. the turn
pike gate was closed and fastened. They
dared not call the keeper lest his suspicious
should be aroused. A rush from the horse
burst this new obstacle.
Midnight had chimed from the old town
clock on Market street hill when they drove
into Wilmington. A light in the window
of familiar dwelling signaled the wet and
trembling girl. An intimate female friend,
who had been apprised of the intended
flight by brief note in the course of the
day, was patiently waiting for her. On the
breast of her companion she sobbed her re-
lief. So far all was safe
Mr.. Whitney was expected to come by the
steamboat from Baltimore. He would land
on the river side at New Castle, five miles
away. AT daylight Myra set out to inter-
cept him. Not meeting him, she took the
boat for Baltimore, hoping she might see
him there. Instead of that, he had set out
at the same time she did, and they unknow-
ingly crossed each others paths. Fortu-
nately her friends at New Castle detained
him when he arrived; and on her prompt
return they happily met.
The guardians anger spent its force. He
learned the lovers were about to be married
in Philadelphia. Myra was ofage. He had
much to lose by declining a reconciliation.
He offered her his home for her wedding
anG she gladly accepted.
Early in the autumn, when Gas one of the
bridesmaids, at this distance of thirty-six
years, tells us) the fires were lighted on the
hearths, the wedding took place.
The Genius of the Romantic seemed still
to be the ruling spirit. The evening was
already far spent, and all was ready for the
ceremony, when 1t was discovered that no
license had been procured. The bridegroom
was annoyed, the bride trembled, the brides
maids tiuttered with additional tremors of
excitement. A messenger was dispatched
to ride with all speed upon the swiftest
horse in the stables to Wilmington to pro-
cure the license. But a stupid servant gave
him, instead, an old blind animal, who STUN
bled and blundered along in the rain and
mud. Finding magistrate with difficulty,
1t was ten o'clock before he returned and the |
ceremony could proceed
Just as it was over, says the old lady, |
who was then the fair young bridesmaid, |
the storm which had prevailed during all |
the evening ceased The wind fell, the |
night calmed, and from among the scattered |
clouds the moon shone with peaceful rays
across the lawn.
Was it premonition for the bride?
Mr.. Whitney took his wife to New York.
and they dwelt for perhaps two years at |
Binghamton, the home of his family.
l. was season of rest before lifetime of |
labor; two years of peace before thirty of |
contention and struggle.
Mrs. Whitney had learned her parentage.
From Davis himself she gathered that She |
had been deceived during all her girlhood. -
Little by little she pieccd together the frag-
ments Of evidence, till at last the truth burst
upon her-that the wealth of her father,
Daniel Clark, of New Orleans who died
twenty years ago, was justly hers
This truth took possession of her life IL