Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1872-02-08
an 0riaiual &rize Stprg,
Written for the Yorkville Enquirer
THE OAKHURST ROMANCE
RY MRS. HENRY DEAS.
CHAPTER VIII.

morning around the breakfast table, when
Tom. the butler at Oaklands, made his ap-
pearance.
sI beg your pardon, sir" he said, respect
fully touching his woolly locks to the master
of the house, "but found this letter on Mass
Brookes table, and I felt kinder anxious,
under the circumstances, to know if anything
was the matter. It's uncommon for him to
90 off so early, and his bed amt been slept in
all night"
"a letter to me?" said Mr.. Conway, taking
it. "In explanation of his departure, l sup
pose-you say he has gone of, Tom?'
eyes, sir, and left Pedro behind
"He said nothing yesterday about intending
to 60 away" remarked Minnie, while her
grandfather opened the envelope.
"a note for Arly, inside. Tom, you can
carry it up to him-or stop. Gracious Heav-
en-, what's all this ?"
"Is anything the matter ?" asked Ethel,
anxiously, as she noted the expression Of the
old gentleman's face
"Wait-I can't tell you yet I'll be back
presently; I must read this alone" And
hastily rising from the table, he retreated to
his study, in such evident agitation and ex-
citement that the two girls sat looking at each
other in dismay, while the faithful Tom stood
within the doorway, the picture of anxiety
and distress, and murmured broken ejacula-
ton expressive of his hopes for his masters
safety.
When Mr.. Conway had locked himself in
his study, and carefully read and re-read the
fatal epistle penned by poor Brooke on the
eve of his departure, it would be impossible
to describe the mingled emotions of astonish-
ment, incredulity and grief that agitated his
mind. He would fain have believed the
whole thing delusion; but then Brooke
could not have taken such step without suf'
fcient reason for being certain of the grounds
he acted upon.
"That old witch was certainly distraught," !"
groaned poor Mr.. Conway. "Good God, why
couldn't the boy have come to me and told
me the whole thing? would have advised
him what to do" And then he read over
Brooke's words, "Do not blame me for acting
precipitately or without cause in this matter !;
the statement of a dying woman, confirmed
by solemn oath, is evidence I dare not dis
believe. am perfectly convinced Of its truth.
I have been strongl y tempted, my more than
father, to confess my secret to you, and throw
myself upon your judgment, but I feared
your counsel might tally only with the wishes
of your heart and cannot trust sufficiently
to my own strength to resist such counsel"
Then Mr.. Conway brokeinto storm of in
dignation. "Heartless! unfeeling! to desert
those nearest and dearest to him in such q
manner If this stuff is true, need anybody
outside of the house have been any the wiser
whereas the affair will now be public talk.
Doesn't he know that it will almost kill poor
AilyY And then he softened into tears of
pity over the pathos of Brooke's farewell, re-
penting of his own harsh words just uttered,
and seeing nothing in the rash step "the boy"
had taken but high-toned heroism and honor.
Meantime Arly had heard something Of a
letter from Brooke, and a mystery of some
sort connected with it, and sent an imperative
message down stairs to find out all about it..
Presently Ethel came running up to his room.
"What is it, Ethel ?" he cried impatiently.
Cant any one tell me what is the matter ?
Has anything happened to Brooke?'
Indeed, dear Arly, I can't tell you. Grand
papa is still in the library, and the door is
locked. am afraid there is something wrong" D."
"Do go down again, and find out. | must
know, Ethel; I can't stand the suspense"
So Ethel went down, and knocked at Mr..
Conway's door, and told him she was afraid
Arly would work himself into a fever of ex-
citement and apprehension if he could not find
out what had happened.
There it is, said Mr.. Conway. "Ofcourse,
he will get fever, and I have no doubt it
will kill him in the end So much for head
strong folly aud rashness. suppose must
20 up to him at once. Read this, Ethel, and
you will find out all about it. Where's that
note he wrote to Arly?'
Ethel found the note and gave it to him,
and then sat down to peruse Brooke's letter.
AS she read it, strange mist and blindness
came over her sight; quick, sharp pain-like
spasm crossed her heart, and with a low cry
her face sunk upon her hands. She sat thus
for little while, like one stunned; then she
took up the letter and read it through again
to the end. Yes, there it was, written too
plainly to be doubted Brooke was gone, no
one could tell whittier, and she would proba-
bly, never see him again. He was gone, sor-
rowful and broken-hearted, with none to COM
fort him, and his home would know him no
more.
Then the thought occurred to her that some
one might overtake him-perhaps it might
not yet be too late for messenger to be sent
after him. He could not be far away yet
surely, something might be done. But then
she knew her grandfather must have taken
all that into consideration land besides Brooke.
if he wished to elude discovery, had no doubt
taken measures to avoid it. There were sever
al early trains from Oakhurst, going in differ
ent directions, and by one of these he had
probably gone With this last reflection how
ever came CLEAN of hope; everybody al
Oakhurst knew Brooke, and if he had taken
the cars there they would perhaps be able to
find out which way he had gone. Ifshe could
only suggest something to her grandfather
perhaps he was too worried to think. Per
haps Arly might think of some plan; he was