Dodgeville chronicle. [volume] (Dodgeville, Wis.) 1862-current, 1871-01-06

| kept lodging house, and my father, a gay,
| dashing young fellow, came to lodge with
| her. As might have been expected, he fell
| in love with his landladys daughter. He
offered the young girl marriage, on condition
that the union should be kept secret until his
affairs frightened and he chose to divulge it,
The young girl loved him. Her mother was
ambitious and penurious. The result was
| the lover had his way, and married the
daughter of his landlady quietly, almost Sc
cretly Then he took his bride to London, to
cheap and obscure lodgings, where, year
later, was born.
The wind for moment drowned his voice.
AS it presently lulled, he resumed recklessly,
and with passionate bitterness:
"For years my mother and lived in those
stuffy, obscure lodgings until her bloom had
faded, and she had grown thin and wan and
nervous. My father visited us at stated sea-
sons, once or twice a week, but he never
brought any of his family to call upon us.
doubt if his aristocratic relatives even sus-
pected the existence of the faded wife and
son of whom he was secretly ashamed l
have good reason to believe that he had fine
lodgings at the West End, where he was sup
posed to be bachelor, and that he went into
fashionable society, while my poor mother
and lived bsc urely. He was a proHlgate
and roue, but he had an air of fashion that
awakened my boyish admiration and aroused
my mothers affectionate pride in him. She
was always pleading to be introduced to his
relatives, and to have her son publicly ac-
knowledged. But my father always put her
off, saying that he was not yet ready. Worn
out and despairing, my mother died when
was ten years old.''
Again the wind shrieked past, again the
little vessel lurchel, the sea sweeping her
deck.
The captain screamed his orders to his
men, and for few minutes disorder reigned.
"A nasty bit of weather." said Lowder.
"And q bad sky"'
eyes, but I've seen as bad,'' returned Tres
silian. "We shall make port all right, never
fear. We must be well on toward the Cape
di Gallo. And it's only seven miles from the
Cape to Palermo"
I" But the seven miles in this storm are
worse than seventy in good weather. These
coasts are dangere. Tressilian."
Lowder shuddered as he surveyed sea and
sky.
But about your father, Jasper" asked
Tressilian, who had become deeply interested
in his companions story. What did he do
after your mothers death?"
" / remained at the old lodgings with our
single old servant month or more, my IA
ther visiting me several times, and express
ing anxiety as to what he should do with
me. week after my mothers death, he
told me that his brother was dead.
month later, his father was killed by being
thrown from his horse. My father came
into riches and honors by these deaths. AT
last, deciding to rid himself of me, he took
me down to Brighton, to my old grandma
ther. Her sons We're dead she had given
up keeping dodgers, and was grown miserly.
He promised her five hundred pounds year
to keep me, and to keep also the secret of my
paternity, solemnly promising to acknowl-
edge me some day as his son and heir. The
old woman agreed to carry out his wishes.
She would have done anything for money.
| went to school, grew up, at the age of
tWenty-one came into my grandmother's
money, the fruits of years of saving, she dy
ing at that time. My father had deliberate
ly abandoned me. did not know where to
seek him, if | had wished to. / took my
money and came abroad. had been two
years ON the Continent, and had spent my
little fortune when met you. The rest you
know"
" An odd, romantic story! But why did
your father abandon your"
:" That he might be freed of encumbrance
to make grand marriage. From what my
grandmother said at different times, con-
clude that my father was in love with a til
tied lady before my mothers death. No
doubt he married this lady. If he lives,
this ladys son may be his acknowledged
heir. My father has utterly dsowned the
son of his first hasty, ill-starred marriage.
have a fancy that l will meet him some
day." and Jasper's brow deepened to deeper
blackness. " However, / stand no chance
of ever receiving justice at his hands"
"What is your fathers name, Jasper"
asked Tressilian.
Lowders face darkened. He bit his lip
savagely.
"What I have told you about myself
learned from my own observation, or from
chance words of my parents and grandma
Their. My mothers maiden name was jean
cite Lowder At our London lodgings, my
father bore the name of Lowder. | don't
know his real name, but should know his
face anywhere, although l have not seen
him in thirteen years. Ny mother was ac-
tually married, Tressilon, but | never heard
my fathers name. The clergyman who
married my mother was dead the witnesses
also. When my grandmother was dying she
tried to tell me the story. She had put it
off too long. All that could understand of
her mumblings was the name of Devereux.
shall never forget that name DEvE-
REUxH Probably that was my fathers name
my own rightful name. But as should
never find him if | sought him, and as he
would repulse me if l did find him, stand
no chance of inheriting his property. He
may be dead. He may have other sons who
have succeeded him. 1t is all a mys
terry, but the prominent truth is that
am an outcast, poor, disowned and friend
less"
He leaned over the bulwark, the spray
dashing over his face violently.
Tressilians heart warmed to- him.
"My poor friend!' he said. "Must | say
again, you are not friendless while | live.
My father has influence enough to obtain for
you government appointment This tangle
may straighten itself out some day. But if
it don't, you are resolute enough to make
your own happiness"
He grasped Lowder'r hand, and looked
with warm, bright eyes, full Of sympathy,
into Lowders lowering face.
There had been a temporary lull in the
storm. But as the two stood there the tenn
pest revived and swept over the wild sea in
maddened rage.
There was no time for talking now. The
wind rose so high that the words would
scarcely have been distinguished. The storm
that had gone before had been but play to
this awful outburst. The vessel drove on,
creaking and groaning, mere cookie shell
on the pillows.
Mother of Mercies !" walled the captain.
+" It's all up with us, signors. | can't make
out the cape in this darkness. We shall go
on the rocks. st Anthony save us!''
The seamen echoed his cries.
The two young Englishmen, comprehend
ing their danger, clasped hands in silence.
For the next few minutes it seemed that a
Pandemonium reigned.
Then a noise like the report of cannon
suddenly doomed through the storm and the
darkness. The little vessel shivered, stag
gered, and careened upon her side.
She had struck upon rock.
A moment later crew and passengers were
struggling in the water.
few moments of buffetings and toss