The morning star and Catholic messenger. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1868-1881, 1873-03-16

| In that rieht-hand parlor down stairs where
| he had paid that money to Mrs. Morier' wh9 "a
| the reader first made his acquaintance. ne
| had great confidence in Jenifer. He knew her
goodness, and her patience, and her trust. ne
knew something, too, of her trials, and also
of her prayer bat he had come there to in
vestigate o very serious matter, and ne was
going steadily through with it.
" Listen, Jenifer''
Last night, just after our prayers, Father
Daniels being in the house, my friend. MI En-
skine, who escorted my step daughter, Mary
Lorimer, home, went out into the park just as
was supposed, to have cigar before going to
bed. Mrs. Brewer and were in Mary's room
whom we heard Mr. Erskine leave the house
He certainly lighted his cigar. Mary's win
dow was open and we slnelt the tobacco. Jen-
ifer, he never returned"
They wcre both standing and looking at
each other. Ny life, and all that is in itp
Up went Jenifer's prayer, but voicelessly to
heaven. My life, and all that is in it." Bat
q strong faith that the one terrible evil that
her imag ination pictured would not be in it,
was strong within her.
"He never returned. My man-servans woke
me- in my first sleep. by knocking at the bed,
not returned. rose up and dressed myself.
1 collected the men and went out into the
park. We went to the south lodge, to ask if
any one had seen him. no. thsv said. But
the west lodge keeper had been there as late
as near ten o'clock, and he lad said that man
had been in their house asking a good many
questions about Beremoutb, aud who We bad
staying there, and if Mr.. Erskine was there,
or ever had been there, and inquiring what
sort Of a looking man he was whether he
wore board, or had any popularity How
he dressed, and if there had ever been any re-
port of his going to be married. They had
answered his questions, because they suspect
cd nothing worse than gossipping curiosity
and they had given him rest, and cup OF
tea. He said that friend, cousin of his,
had lived as servant with Mr.. Erskine and
he also asked if Mr.. Erskine would be likely
to pass through that lodge the next day, for
that he had great Curiosity to see him. lie
said that he had known him well once, and
wanted greatly to SEQ him once more. He, af-
ter all this talking asked the nearest way to
Marston. He was directed through the park,
and he left them. Our inquiries about Horace
Erskine having been answered by this history
told by one lodge-keeper to the other, we could
not help suspectng that some one had been on
Jones from the lodge, and his elder boy with
US, We dispersed ourselves over the park to
seek for him, good deal troubled by what we
had heard. We got to the deer pond, but We
had sought many places before got there
it did not seem q likely place for a man to go
to in the summer night. We looked about--we
went back to get lanterns-they were neces-
sary in the darkness made by the thick foliage;
ono side was bright enough, and the pool was
like looking glass where it was open to the
sloping turf, and the short fern, which the deer
trampie down when they get there to drink
but the side where the thorns, holies, and
yew-trees grow was black as night; and vet
we thought we could see where the wild
climbing plants had been pulled away, and
where some sort of struggle might have taken
place. As we searched, when we came back,
we found strong evidence of desperate en-
counter; the branches of the great thorn-tree
were hanging split from the stem, and, holding
the lantern, saw the marks of broken
ground by the margin of the pond, % if some
one had been struggling at the very edge of it.
Then, all at once, and shall never understand
why we did not see it before-the moonbeams
hri al I I'M fhara in fha
pond was the figure of . man not altogether
in the water, but having struggled far out
as to get his head against the bank, hid as it
was with grass and low brush-wood, the ferns
aud large-leaved water-weeds; we laid hold of
the poor fellow it was Horace Erskine, Jeni-
fer!'
the faith, rather, still alive that that
worst grief should not be in it--so she prayed
so she felt-poor Jenifer. Master sho
gasped, not dead-not dead-Mr Brewer"
have been dead if we had not found him when
we did He was bruised and wounded; such
a sight Of illtreatment as no eyes ever before
brutally used than l could have believed pos
sible, if had not seen it. His clothes were
torn his face so dist Cured that he will scarce
arm is broken." But not dead I" {" No
but he may die; the doctor is i'll the house.
and the police are ont after the man whom
we suspect of this horrible barbarity. Now,
seemed to know you, came here to ask you
to tell me, in your own honest way, your hon
est story"
But Jeuifer seemed to have no desire to
make condolences.
"Who told you of strangeri"
Have you not told me yourself. in answer
to my first questions, before giving you my
reasons for inquiringf"
" No sir; that won't do. 1 judge from what
you said that You had heard something of this
stranger before you came here"
had, Jenifer.' And Mr.. Brewer looked
steadily at her.
"Well sir 2"
"Jenifer, have really come out o: tender
ness to you, and to those who may belong to
YOU"
No one doubts your tenderness, sir; least
of any could doubt it. Tell me who men
toned stranger to you, as to send you
here to met"
Lady Greystocks groom, coming to Bere-
mouth early, and finding in great trouble
made o declaration as to o stranger who had
appeared and stopped his mistress MS she was
driving through tho park last night. He says
this man asked if they could tell where Mrs
Evelyn lived, and Mrs. Evelyn Immediately
answering, said that she lived somewhere in
the neighborhood, and that he could learn by
inquiring for you. The groom says that the
man evidently knew Mrs. Morier's name. as
well az your name ; and that after speaking
to him, Mrs. Evelyn asked Lady Greystock to
drive oD, and that she drove rapidly, and nov