The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1872-10-11

a small room at the top of house in some
back street in Dorchester.
Meantime the body of the coast guard
had been found. Harry Walters threat
was corroborated by dozen voices, and
the old man was hurried off to Jail. The
village was in ferment of wonder and eX-
citement- for simultaneous W ith the muir
der was Bessie Walters elopement with Kit.
The first news that met Bessie and her
husband was that of her fathers arrest.
Who can describe the girls horror and
misery, the perple1ity which beset and
crushed heron the one hand, TO see her
ia ther hung for crime of which her hus-
band was guilty ard on the other to de-
nounce the true murderer, and save her
father by the sacrifice of her husband.
There was one thread of hope, the evil
dence against Henry Walters was merely
circumstantial those who had heard him
swear vengeance against the officer were
now ready to swear he was drunk; and
that more forgiving, peaceable man never
lived.
Once Bessie saw her father.
s'Don't yo' fret, my darling. 1O' know
be innocent as an unborn babby, he said.
A great and exceeding bitter cry burst
from Bessie's lips.
! 'Doant say that, oh ! fayther, yo'r KILN
/ II must tell yo'--I maun tell, or my
heart will break. Kit did it-fayther-"
The old man sprang to his feet; he had
been kneeling beside the seat she was on.
''He did it fayther; l seed him ~ and
seizing the arm that, with hand clenched,
hung by her, she told him the story of her
husbands crime and her misery.
When she was done he stood still, his
hands clenched, his head dropping.
| Suddenly he turned, and lifting her up
! in his arms, held her to his heart as he had
done when, as a mOtherless child, she had
| come to him for comfort i'll her childish tri-
ais.
''Bessie, my darling, ye've done right in
! telling me. can die happy when know
! why l die. No, my dear, you're not to
J fret; it is you Pm thinking for, not Kit.
! God'n have to think for him. It's yo' dar
ling-you' II find it hard to hold your tongue,
but you must, dear. Pm your fayther, and
God has givon ME right to command my
child. Ny command to yo' is go back to
Kit and help the Lord to make him bet
| ter man. I hadn't many years to live,
Bessie. It's not much whether | go this
year of five years later; and l allow won
be hardly judged in the other world foI
what I'm doing now"
Kit was sitting at the table writing when
she got out of bed. She went over to him
and put her arms around him. He looked
up in her face.
God knows what he saw there perhaps
the shadow of her doom in his. Whatever
it was, it made him lay his head upon th7
table and sob in the very bitterness of a
mans despairing passion.
Bessie did not try to comfort him, She
had her work to do. Kit sobbed on ; then,
turning he came over TO his wife and laid
his hand on her shoulder.
''YOu are right, Bessie only you are not
to do it. I'll do it myself"
Bessie ran after him-he was gone.-
Rushing back to her room, she began dress
ing life and death depended upon it
aye, indeed life and death for even a!
she hurried down stairs, crowd came tC
the dOor-a crowd with white, frightened
faces-bearing in their midst body
Kit had shot himself The pa per he had
been writing when Bessie gave him her last
kiss was full confession of the crime.
Henry Walters was released, but never
showed his face in Lulworth. When Bessie
was able to move they emigrated, and nO
tidings of them, veal or woe, has ever
reached their old home.