The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1870-04-29

written from the prison by Mr.. Faun-
tleroy, and 1t contained two lines only,
entreating me to apply for the necessary
order, and to go and see him immedi-
ately.
shall not attempt to describe the
fiutter of expectation, the strange mix
ture of dread and hope that agitated me
when 1 recognized his handwriting,
and discovered what it was that he de.
sired me TO do. l easily obtained the
order, and went TO the prison.
The authorities, knowing the dread
ful situation in which he stood, were
afraid of his attempting to destroy HIM
self, and had set two men TO watch him.
One came out as they opened his cell
door. The other, who was bound not
to leave him, very delicately and con-
siderately affected to be looking out of
the window the moment | was shown
in.
He was sitting on the side of his bed,
with his head dropping and his hands
hanging listlessly over his knees when
1 first caught sight of him. AT the
sound of my approach he started to his
feet, and, without speaking II word,
| flung both his arms round my neck.
My heart swelled up.
"Tell me it's not true, sir For Gods
sake, tell me it's not true" was all
could say to him.
He never answered-oh me he never
answered, and he turned away his face.
There was one dreadful moment of
silence. He still held his arms round
my neck, and on sudden he put his
lips close to my ear.
"Did you get your money out?" he
whispered. "Were you in time on
Saturday afternoon
broke free from him in the astonish.
ment of hearing those words.
"What !" / cried out aloud, forgetting
the third person at the window. "That
man who brought the message"
"Hush ~ he said, putting his hand
upon my lips. "There was no better
man to be found, after the officers had
taken mel know no more about him
than you do paid him well, as a
chance messenger, and risked his cheat
ing me of the errand."
"You sent him, theni"
81 sent him."
My story is over, gentlemen. There
is no need for me to tell you that Mr..
Fauntleroy was found guilty, and that
he died by the hangman's hand. 1t was
in my power to sOothe his last moments
in this world by taking on myself the
arrangement of some of his private af.
fairs, which, while they remained un-
settled, weighed heavily on his mind.
They had no connection with the crime
he had committed, so L could do him
the last little service he was ever to ac.
cept at my hands, with a good heart and
| a clear conscience.
| say nothing in defence of his char.
acter-nothing in palliation of the offence
for which he suffered. But / cannot
forget that in the time of his most fear
ful extremity, when the strong arm o.
the law had already seized him, he
thought of the young man whose hum
BILE fortunes he had helped to build
whose heartfelt gratitude he had fairly
won; whose simple faith he was resolv-
ed never to betray. | leave it to great.
er intellects than mine to reconcile the
anomaly of his reckless falsehood
toward others and his steadfast truth
toward me. 1t is as certain as that we
sit here that one of Fauntleroy's last
efforts in this world was the effort he
made to preserve me from being loser
by the trust that l had placed in him.
There is the secret of my strange ten
derness for the memory of felon; that
is why the word villain does somehow
st i'll crate on my heart when hear II
associated with his name.