The workingman's advocate. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1864-1877, 1869-09-18
tALES OF THE BORDERS,
RETRIBUTION.
BY ALEXANDER cAMPBELL.

* AS6 A@A " 1ONs
BY ALEXANDER CAMPBELL.
" (coNcLUDBD.)
Ii The extreme agitation, the terror and out
br;es Of the unfortunate girl, at once arres-
red Cressingham's progress, and brought
keveral persons that were in the house ar
pund her; and by these last Cfessing CHAM
having sneaked of, without saying q word
llt was judged advisable to send Immediately
for medical assistance, which was according
Fy done. Nor was it unnecessary; for q
strong fever had already seized on the poor
tyoung lady, and was rapidly exhausting her
tstrength.
/ The medical gentleman sent for instantly
Rattended, and ordered Miss Rutherford in
kstsntly to be put to bed. He then prescribed
tfOr her as for one whose danger hs coEsi-
idersd imminent and he was not mistaken.
kDeeply interested in the unfortunate girl,
from whom be had learned a good deal OF
her melancholy story, the medical gentle
man who had been called in did all that he
could do to arrest the progress Of the fatal
disease under which she was laboring> Night
and day he attended her, during her severe
but brief illness, and not only employed bis
a Own skill to save her, but that Of some of
the most eminent of his professional bre-
thren In ths town, whom be brought to bis
I assistance.
But all human tGarts were vain. From
hour TO hour the fever ~ant on. increasing
alarminglY, accompanied BY 9 nropor,ion.
able diminutiOn Of the poor patients s.--Dgth
! until, at length the awful, and fatal cflsa.
, arrived. On the evening of the third day
after her arrival in Calcutta, Fanny Ruther
ford breathed her last, surrounded will
= strangers, and in foreign land.
But where was the master rufhan all thi
timer How was be employed and bow dit
be feel, while this dreadful and affectin
scene was snacting? Why, he was givinI
himself very little concern about it, furthe
than that which proceed from his fears 70
his $4,000.
He bad indeed called two or three times q
a Fanny's lodgings during her illness, to in
quire fer her, and bad even sent her som
cordials-cordIals, alas Of which she ha
never pArtaken-from his own house; bu
more than this be had not done, nor In an,
way had he evinced the smallest sympath,
for the unhappy victim of his villany.
Raeburn knew that Fanny's illness va
. Of dangerous natuTe-but he had no ide
that it was to terminate as il did 50 soon
I" and it was under this mistaken impressio
that be and Cressinghsm called at Fanny
lodgings on the very evening on which sh
died, and, as it happened, within few mir
utes after the melancholy event bad take
place.
Having tapped gently at the door, whic
was slowly opened to him by the lodging
house-keeper, herself
"How is your patient, tonight, lady
he said, addressing the latter, smilingly.
"She is we'll, sir, she is well" replied Il
woman, in whom Fanny's gentle nature an
hard fate-Of which she, too, had gathers
something during the unfortunate girls f
sympathy, She is well, she is well' 81
said, wiplng her eyes with her apron as 81
spoke. :" She is in heaven, sir
I "What !" exclaimed Raeburn, in q tor
Of voice startling from Its hollowness, an
becoming deadly pale his mean and da
tarcly soul instantly sinking under Il
weight Of guilt with which he felt this dreac
4. ful intelligence burdening it. "Whatl st
is not dead 2"
g But she is though" replied the woman
Z" and there's an avenging God that wi
v seek out and make q terror and example
those who have been the cause of this poo
girls death"
What do you mean, woman ?" said Ra.
b0rD, in an alarm which he could not cor
zeal, and whidh the slightest allusion to h
vIllany was now sufficient TO excite to a
y overwhelming degree you do not mean I
say that she died by violence2 ?"
Z" know what know, Mr.. Raeburn," n
joined the lodgIng-hOuse keeper, and that
all have to ray about the matter" An
she turned into the house.
Having by no means any wish to rene,
Il the conversation, Raeburn availed himself {
d the opportunity by the woman's retiring 10
Of to the house, to sneak of, which he die
!. and joined his friend Cressingham, who wa
Of waiting for him at little distance.
N "Sbe's dead, OressiDgbsm she's dead |!
he said, in great agitation, as be approaches
: the latter.
y dead !" exclaimed Cressingham-"is 10
Of possible? Why, then, Harry, your 850O
are gone, and you have been villain for no
thing"
1t A villain, did you say, Cressingham p
Il repeated Raeburn, his lips pale and quiver
: ing as he spoke.
Yes, surely . villains doubIe-dye
villain r. reiterated the former. Did 20
ever imagine you were anything elsef M
allow il but its nothing 10 yours Raebur
nothing Tor would assuredly have mar
rIed the girl, if she would haye had me. NJ
i conduct in the business was perhaps that .
& profiigate; but yours-yours, Rseburn-
was unquestionably that" repeated Cres
singham, colly and considerably" that {
dOuble-dyed villain" Saying this, b
turned on his heel and left him.
The instances just mentioned were th
first and the only ones in which Raebur
had YET suffered the martyrdom Of hearin
the opinion of others of hrs conc uct with re
. gard to Miss Rutherford; but this was
species of orture to which he was now to b
frequently exposed. On this very occasion
be had not proceeded twenty yards from th
place where CressIngham had left him, whe
he encountered the medical gentleman VIII
had been attending his victim. THIS perscr
]. conjecturing, irOm the direction whence RAJ
burn was coming, that he had been inqulrin
: for his patient, sccosted hiIn, and asked hi'
!. how she was.
d Raeburn, it will readily be believed woul
> have gone fity miles about-ay, even on hI
bare knees-rather than have exposed him