The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1869-05-04

wicked mufQefI SOlOncl baSll lies IN
the keeping room of HammeIs tavern,
stark and dead :; and two hours ago Dircli
, Cuyler was arrested for his murder
: She would not look at the face uplifted
to her own. Instead, she stared stonily
out at the window, and went stumbling
on with her words.
Everything is against him. He quar-
!, relied with the colonel last night at Ham
, mers. Both lost their temper. Dirck
went Off with him at midnight, still an
CRY, and was tracked as far as the bridge
A handkerchief, with his mamie on it, was
found close to the body, covered with
) blood. I've seen Dirck this morning,
Barbara. He's down at the tavern, too,
under guard. l asked him If he'd any
word to send to you. No. he said, in
that odd, sullen way of his. She will
know whether have done this or not +"
Barbara Peale, shrinking out Of Mar
Itha's grasp; sank in heap on the little
white bed. She did not move or speak.
She lay there for a long time, with her
face hidden in the pillow.
Barbara" yventured Martha, at last,
i"yOu know the Basils never liked him,
and he never liked the Basils. He's got
a dreadful temper, has Dirck-I always
knew that"
But starting from the bed, Barbara
confronted her
"No, nom she shrieked, wringing her
hands, she never did it, he never did it :
"Well,.' muttcred Martha, 'sthere'll be
an inquest, and then we shall see. It's
natral enough, Barbara that you should
want to believe him innocent, but tell
you, the folks l saw at Hammel's this
morning think different
Barbara Peale stood up at the foot of
the bed. Her face at that moment was
heavenly. Her great, dilated eyes look
ed al Martha Swan. Her bosom heaYetl
convulsively.
"Martha," she answered, "the whole
world may believe him guilty,yet never
will! Heaven itself may cast him off,
but / will never 'torsake him. pray
4 God to hear me say it---I will never,
never forsake him."
Martha Swan turned drearily away.
"It is so hard" she muttered to ler-
self, moodily, ''to make such n woman
believe the man she loves can sim"
! So Martha Swan went into the south
chamber and hid the bridal dress from
sight. She shuddered, as she thrust it
into chest of drawers in corner, and
banged the lid upon it. 1t seemed to
her at that moment an accursed thing.
Down in the keeping room of Ham
mers tavern the inquest was held that
i day. 1t was an awful room, crowded
with many faces. Colonel Basil lay
there, stark body, with thessdead face
aet still in rigid hate. John Basil was
there, pale, subtle, keen-eyed. Dirck
Cuyler was there--a prisoner-standing
apart by q window, Silent and motiorless.
Joe Hammel was there, scared and un
comfortable The men who had been at
the tavern the night before, each and all,
were there.
Little by little their danning evidence
was given the trouble concerning the
mills, the threatening words of Cuyler,
the quarrel at the tavern, the departure
at midnight, the bloody handkerchief
Then John Basil, standing over his nur-
dered father, testified to the personal ha-
tired with which, as the son of the de-
ceased, the prisoner had always regarded
him Turning, with flush, he showed
t on his blonde cheek the mark of whip
lash which he had received in an entoun-
, ter with Cuyler on the very night of his
fathers death. When this testimony OF
John Basil was done, there were those
who saw the prisoner turn suddenly from
the window, and look at him long and
steadfastly
So the ghastly mesh Of evidence grew
and grew 1t spread out its deadly clutch,
es and drew Dirck Cuyler helplessly ihtt
his doom.
Once only he strove to defend him
Iself, aud then in q manner so proud and
cold that it would have been better fol
him had he remained silent.
"When | parted with Colonel Basil
last night" he said, his deep voice filling
the room like trumpet, ave parted
friends. What passed between us ii
this room was private matter. shall
|, never explain tit would avail me moth
ing. 1t did not concern the mills. We
had no quarrel. ! walked with him tt
the bridge There we parted kindly, and
I turned and came home. The handker
chief is mine. / do not know when OF
how it was lost; but swear that this is
all which is known to me Of this most
melancholy affair"
Colonel Basils death-wound had beer
inflicted by some sharp, thin weapon
driven through the heart at single blow
Of this weapon no trace could be found
neither about the scene Of the murder
nor upon the person Of tie prisoner
Doubtless the black. sullen river held this
part Of the secret.
At last it was over. The awful an
nouncement was made that the mur
dered man came to his death from 6
wound received from some unknown in
strument in the bands of the prisoner
The witnesses started at him as ifthe rope
of the hangman was already round his
, throat. The mournful afternoons shad
ows fell long and heavy in the room
Of sudden, there was a stir on thu
threshold A little figure in gray pushed
quickly in. She went up to Drick Guy
iler. She laid two slender hands in his
She lifted to his her dark, unfaltering
eyes. r-
"Dirck.." c.aE -
BARBRA " #.
"Good-by, dear Direk." srr
Darling, good-by."
"We understand each other, do We
not2 u. a l.
), ave dove do!' l.
Is He checked suddenly. Before them
all he caught her to his heart, and kissed
her once I'd Then his arms parted. ',u s
She looked to see him going out slow
" behind the officers, with his head bow
ed for the first time upon his breast.
A hand pressed her hand that had
fallen at her side. With a start. Bar
hon, t,,rnafl oD1 mot tho ll,,a e,,5sr M