The herald. (Smyrna, Del.) 1870-1871, 1871-07-01

idly, her gentle hand on his arm. "Cai
not you confide in me?"
Mop he answered bitterly. "Shame
and disgrace are not for ears like yours:
but there's something must say before
we part, even at the risk of being
thought meddlosome and jealous. Janet
| saw you wellling with Gerald Heath
erstone the other day-didn't I?'
"Why yes" replied the girl, her eyes
wide with surprise. Giles an old friend,
a play fellow of mine, and--"
"He's an internal villain" her lover
burst out hotly; 'and if ever see him
speak to you again I'll cut his heart
outl"
"Wty, Ross, what in heavens name
do you mean?" asked the astonished
girl.
"Exactly what say, Janet. You
must never speak to Gerald Heather
stone again. o sip couples you name
with his, and calls him your lover. He's
not fit to breathe the same air with a
pure woman like you, and he shall not,
the treatcherous, smooth-faced coward.
| feel the spirit of murder iu my heart
every time | see him. So hearken to
what l say, and shun him like you
would u serpent
Standing there in the doorway, with
the wild, mid-winter night before her
Janet pondered over her lovers words
with an aching unrest in her heart. He
had never appeared jealous or unreason-
able before-what could have changed
him SO suddenly?
On the hight above the sea she could
see She lights cleaning from the win
dows of Heatherstone Hall. Esquire
Heatherstone was the wealthiest man in
Stramville, and Gerald was his son and
heir. handsome, stylish young man,
somewhat addicted to dissipation, iudg-
ing from his looks. The rectors daugh-
ter had known him since her chidhood;
but he held no place in her heart.
The wind rose to gale, and the sleet
tinkled against the windows, and Janet
could almost feel the shock of the great
waves as they beat upon the strand
With little shiver of terror she turned
ta close the door, seeing as she did so
Waterman Cowly, mufiled to the teeth
and carrying his lantern in his hand,
hurrying down Maple street on his
nightly beat.
/ Then she closed and locked the door,
and returning to the sitting-room, SAT
down before the fire to mediate.
Meanwhile the watcbman went on,
crunching the sleet with every hurrying
step, his teeth set against the bitter blast
that almost beat him back. just be
fore reaching the corner of Maple and
Calverts streets, a sudden cry of murder
rang horribly above the din of the
storm, curdling the very blood in his
veins. For one swift moment he stood
breathless; then he dashed down toward
Calvert street, whence the cry had pro-
ceeded. There was not living soul
abroad; but just atthe corner something
flew past him, shadowy, impalpable
thing, very like a ghost.
Half a dozen flying strides, and the
watchman halted, and turned on his
lantern. AT his feet lay prostrate fig
ure, and towering above this PROSTATE
figure was man, with long shining
dagger in his hand. The watchman
clutched his arm with grip like steel;
but catching a glimpse of his face, he re-
laxed his hand.
"Good heaven, Mr.. Ross Milburn, is
it you?' he gasped.
at is me, Cowly," replied the young
man, his face as white as death; "and
this is Gerald Heatherstone Hos been
murdered 70
Sand his murderer
sis gone !"
The watchman sh, keen glance at
young mans face; then he stopped down
to examine the PROSTATE figure.
"Dead," he said. That blow went
homer'
"Magbe not, Cowly. het's be quick.
Something may be done for him?"
The two men stood face to face, eye to
eye.
"No, he's dead; Mr.. Ross MilburB;
did you murder him ?''
II murder him? Good God, Cewly
never thought of that! Why, no, of
course l did not -
The watchman laughed lightly.
"Sorry to doubt your word, Mr.. Mil
burn" he said; shut circumstances are
pretty strongly against you."
The day dawned gloriously after the
stormy night. At sunrise there was an
unwonted hustle in tramville-knots Of
men at the cerners in excited discussion,
women peering from the doorways with
white, affrighted faces.
Returning from his accustomed morn
ing walk, the old rector noticed this uh-
usual excitement, and learned its cause.
Gerald Heatherstone dead, and Ross
Milburn in prison for the murder.
The poor old MN went home with |
tottering steps; and, finding pretty
Janet in the parlor, he told her the sto-
ry; and, with little cry of mortal ago.
ny, she dropped down before him in
dead swoon.
y
The day of Ross Milburn's trial was
one of unprecedented excitement in
the country town. which was only amile
and a-half from Stramville. At an ear
ly hour all the avenues leading to the
court were blocked up by eager crowds.
the very best counsel had been engaged
on both sides, and expectation was on
tiptoe.
The proceedings began in the usual
manner, and the prisoner was conducted