Litchfield enquirer., 1872-02-22
THE EXPERIENCES oF A aARRIS
 TER--.MO. q.
The Accommodation sIH.

narrative as did not fall within my own personal observation, were communicated fo me by the late Mr. Ralph Symonds. and the dyin9.coniession of James Horn by, one of the persons killed by the fall ing if of tine iron roof Of the Brunswick Theatre. A conversation the other day with q son of Mr. Symonds, who has been long settled ill London, recalled the entire chain of circumstances to my memory with all the vivid distinctness sOf first impression.
 One evening towards the close of tine year 1906, the Leeds coach brought MT. James HOypby to the village of Pool, on the Wharf, in the West Riding of York shire. A small but respectable house on the confines of the place had been pre- pared for his reception, and few minutes after his descent from the top of the coach, the pale, withered- looking man aisap- peared within it, Except for occasional trips to Otley, small market-town dis tant about three miles from Pool, he rare y afterwards emerged from its seclusiOn.
 It was not Time. ws shall presently see he was indeed but fou.< sad forty years of age-that had bowed his figure. thinned his whitening hair, and baaished from his countenance all signs of healthy, cheerful life. This, too, appeared to be the opinion of the gossips of the village, who, congregated, as usual, to witness the arrival and departure of the coach, in- dulged, thought Mir. Symonds, who was an inside passenger proceeding on to Ot- ley, in remarkably free-and-easy commen- taries upon the past, present, and future of the newcomer.
 'T mind him well;;" quayered aa old, white-haired man. '1t's just three-and, twenty years ago, last Michaelmas. re- member it because of the hard frost two years before, that young Jim Hornby left Otley, to go to Lupnon: just the place, I'm told, to give the finishing polish to to such n miscreant as hs seemed likely to be. He was just out of iais time to old Hornby, his uncle, the grocer.
 "He that's left him such heaps of mon- sy?"
 "Ay, boy, the very same, though he wouldn't have given him or any one else a cheese pairing whilst he lived. This one is true chip of the old block. I'll war rant. You notice that he rode outside, bitter cold as it is?"
 Surely, Gaffer Hicks. But do ye mind what it was he went off in such & scurry for? Tom Harris was saying last night at the Horseshoe, it was something con- corning horse-race or & young woman; he warn't quite sensible which"
 ''I cant say," rejoined the more ancient oracle, ''that quite mind all the ups and downs of it. Henry Burton hOrse-whipped him on the Doncaster race-course, that I know; but whetherit was about Cinderella that had, they said, been tampered with the night before the race, or Miss Eliza beth Gainsford, whom Burton married a few weeks afterwards, I cant, as Tom Harris says, quite clearly remember"
 "Old Hornby had heavy grip of Bur- tons farm for long time before he died, they were saying yesterday at Oatley. The sheepskins will now no doubt be in the Rephew's strong box"
 fITrue, Iad; and let's hope Master Bur. ton will be regular with his payments; for if not, there's Jail and Ruin for him writ ten in capital letters on yon fellows cast iron phiz, can see.'
 The random hits of these Pool gossips, which were here interrupted by the de- parture of the coach, were not very wide of the mark. James Hornby, it was quite true, had been publicly horsewhipped twenty three years before by Henry Bur ton on the Doncaster race-course, osten- sibly on account of the withdrawal of 8 horse that should have started, a transsc- ton with which young Hornby was in some measure mixed up; but especially and really for having dared, upon the strength of presumptive heirship to his uncle's wealth, to advance pretensions to the fair hand of Elizabeth Gainsford, the eldest daughter of Mir. Robert Gainsford, surgeon. of Otley-pretensions indirectly favored, it was said, by the father, but contemptuously repudiated by the lady. Be this as it may, three weeks after the races, Elizabeth Gainsford became Mrs. Burton, and James Hornby hurried off to London, grudgingly furnished for the journey by his uncle. He obtained sit uation as shopman in one of the large grocer establishments of the metropolis; and twenty. three years afterwards, the at- tcrney's letter, informing him that he had succeeded to all his deceased uncle's prop erty, found him in the same place, and in the same capacity.
 A perfect yell of delight broke from the lips of the taciturn man as his glance de- vOured the welcome intelligence "At last!" he shouted in maniacal glee; and fercely crumpling the letter in his hand, aS if he held living foe in his grasp, whilst flash of fendish passion broke from the deep caverns of his sunken eyes -''at last [ have thee on the hip! An, mine enemy!-it is the dead-the dead alone that never return to hurl back on the head of the wrong-doer the shame, the misery, the ruin he inflicted in his hour of triumphr' The violence of pas sions suddenly unreigned after years of jealous curb and watchfulness for & mo- ment overcame him, and he reeled as if fainting, into chair. The fierce, stern nature of the man soon mastered the un- wonted excitement, and in few minutes he was cold, silent, impossible as ever. The letter wich he dispatched the same evening gave calm, business orders as to his uncle's funeral, and other pressing matters upon which the attorney had de handed instructions, and concluded by intimating that he should be in Yorkshire before many days elapsed. He arrived, as we have seen, and took up his abode at one of the houses bequeathed to him in Pool, which happened to be unlet.
 Yes, for more than twenty bitter years James Hornby had savagely brocded over the shame and wrong inflicted on him be- fore the mocking eyes of brutal crowd by Henry Burton. Ever as the day's routine DuSlQESS clOSeu, AHQ A0 FetIfeQ t0 the dull solitude of his chamber, the last mind-picture which faded on his waking sense was the scene on the crowded race course, with all its exasperating accesso. ries-the merciless exultation of the tri. umphant adyersary-the ibes and laugh. ter of his companions-theh hootings of the mob--to be again repeated with fantastic exaggeration in the dreams which troubled and perplexed his broken sleep. Nowon. der that the demons of Revenge and Hate by whom he was thus gOaded, should have withered by their poisonous breath the healthful life which God had given have blasted with premature old age $ body rocked with curses to unblessed re pose! It seemed. by his after confessions that he had really loved Elizabeth Gains ford with all the energy of his violent moody nature, and that her image, fresh lustrous, radiant, as in the dawn of life increasingly haunted his imagination witt visions of tenderness and beauty, lost k him, as he believed, through the wiles