The Fremont weekly journal. [volume] (Fremont, Sandusky County, Ohio) 1867-1877, 1870-12-30

However, 1 stand no
chance of receiving justice at his
hands"
'What is your fathers name, Jas
per% asked Tressilian.
Lowder's face darkened. He bit
his lips savagely.
What I have told you about my
self learned from my own observa-
ton, or from chance words from my
parents and grandmother. My
mothers maiden name was Jeanette
Lowder. At our London lodgings,
my father bore the name of Lowder.
l don't know his real name, but I
should know his face anywhere, al
though l have not seen him in thir-
teen years. My mother was actually
Tressilian, but I never heard
my fathers name. The clergyman
who married my mother was dead !;
tue witnesses also. When my grand
mother was dying she tried to tell
me the story. She had put it off too
long. All that I could understand
of her mumblings was the name of
Devereux. l shall never forget that
name-DEvEREUxp Probably that
was my fathers nsme-my own
rightful name. But as I should nev-
er find him if 1 sought him, and as
he would repulse me if did find him
/ stand no chance OF inheriting his
property. He may be dead. He
may have other sons who have sue
ceeded him. 1t is all mystery, but
the prominent truth is that l am an
outcast, poor, disoWned and friend
less"
He leaned over the bulwark. the
spray dashing over his face violent
ly.
Tressilian's heart warmed to him.
"My poor friend" he said. "Must
say again you are not friendless
while I live, My father has infu-
ence enough to obtain for you a GO
vernment appointment. This tangle
may straighten itself out some day.
But if it don't you are resolute en-
ough to make your own happiness. p"
He grasped Lowder's hand, and
looked with warm bright eyes. full of
sympathy, into Lowder's lowering
face.
There had been a temporary lull in
the storm. But as the two stood
there the tempest revived and swept
over the wild sea with madened rage
There was no time for talking now
The wind rose so high that words
would scarcely have been distinguish
ed. The storm that had gone before
had been but play to this awful out
burst. The vessel drove on, creak-
ing land groaning, a mere cookie shell
on the billows.
"Mother of Mercies," vailed the
Captain. ats all up with us, sig.
nores. I can't make out the Cape in
this darkness. We shall go on the
rocks. St. Anthony save usr'
The seamen echoed his cries.
The two Englishmen, comprehend
ing their peril, clasped hands in 81.
lence.
For the next few minutes it seemed
that pandemonium reigned.
Then a noise, like the report of s
cannon, suddenly doomed through
the storm and the darkness. The
little vessel shivered, staggered, and
careened upon her side.
She had struck rock.
A moment later crew and passen-
gers were struggling in the waters.
A few moments of buffetings and
tossings, of vain struggles and agoni-
zed, involuntary prayer, and then
Jasper Lowder felt his senses slip
from him, and became unconscious.
When he came to himself he was
lying upon a rocky beach of the ST.
Gillian shore, sore, bruised, and weak
as a child.
He opened his eyes. The wind had
spent its fury, and now moaned along
the coast with desoiate, despairing
wall. The waves beat against the
rocks.
Lowder struggled to his elbow.
"WreckedT' he muttered, 81 am
cast ashore.
He moaned and wrung his hands.
"He is dead, who would have done
so much for me, and I so worthless
am saved! All my hopes of an easy
and luxurious life must be resigned
nowm
At that moment he beheld a dark
object at little destance in the water.
The waves hurled this object against
the projecting head of a sunken rock.
At the same instant Lowder recog-
nized it as the body of man.
He crept toward it, and the waters
dashed the body on the shore at his
feet. He put his hands on the face,
how cold and wet it was! It felt
like the face Of dead man! Low
der's fingers came in contact with the
soft, silken mustache, and he knew
that the body was that of Guy Tres
sillianl
OF the five who had stood on the
sloop's deck a half hour earlier,
these two alone were left. The CAP
tain and his crew had found their
deaths among the cruel, yawning
waters.
L1wder thrust his hand under the
waistcoat oNhis friend, but he could
not perceive the beating of his heart.
Despair took possession of him.
"Desdw he said shrilly. dead!
And he would have done so much
for me if he had lived! And his
father and the young girl he was to
have married will wait in vain for
his coming! His place at Tressilian
Court Is empty. Who can fill itT'
1t seemed to him that some demon
at his side echoed the question:
Who could It'll the place left vacamt
By noble Guy TressizianP
Athought came to him-a thought
so strange and sinister that he shiv-
cred involuntarily. Again he felt of
Tressilian's heart. 1t gave no throb
against his hand. He passed his
hand over Tressilian's head and dis
covered wound in the skull. The
hair was clotted with blood.
Putting his hand into his breast
pocket, Lowder drew out his little
water proof match-safe. He opened