The Highland weekly news. [volume] (Hillsborough [Hillsboro], Highland County, Ohio) 1853-1886, 1873-02-13

was, Henry Tyrrel had been a mai
of great wealth, and consequently o
great influence; hence his death coulc
not be other than an event of import
ance. Nobody regretted him; nobod.
gave a tear, or even so much as
sigh, to his memory-but still every
body felt interested in the matter, az
people will feel when there is millior
or two of property in question. The
dead mans wife had preceded hin
long before to the other world; his
only son was absent; so there was
not single kindred face around the
death-bed where Hugh Churchill had
stood, and this in itself is always pa
thetic, even when such man as Hen
ry Tyrren is concerned With re-
gard to his heir and successor, little
was known. From some cause OF
other, young Tyrrel had never fan
cied his native place, and ever since
he attained to mans estate his visits
there had been few and far between.
People said that the father and son
did not "get on" very well, but this
was mere conjecture; for their inter
course, as far as the world knew, had
always been cordial in the extreme,
and, those who knew best said, even
warmly affectionate.
Society at large, however, was rath-
er incredulous of this, and many Gu
rious glances were bent on Roland
Tyrrell as he stood by his fathers
grave and watched the clods of earth
falling heavily upon the coffin. He
looked very pale-ghastly pale, in
fact-as everybody observed; but he
was resolutely composed. Not tear
sprang into the large dark eyes, bent
steadfastly downward, not a culver
came to the sternly-compressed lips.
':He hardly assumes decent appear
ance of griefT' said the majority Of
lookers-on, Indignantly. But there
were others whose gaze pierced be-
low the surface, and more than one of
these felt strangely touched by the
mute suffering stamped on the young
mans face. They, in turn, wondered
a little, and said to each other,
"Strange he should grieve so much
for such father! But they looked
at him with respectful sympathy,
watching him as he turned at last
from the newly-heaped pile of earth,
as he crossed the church-yard, pass
ing directly by the spot where Albert
Churchill had lain for many years, and
drove away alone to his desolate
home.
A few days after the funeral, Hugh
and Margaret Churchill were the re-
cipients of an unexpected and start
ling surprise. A letter from the law
yer of the late Mr.. Tyrren formally
notified them that the sum of fifty
thousand dollars, having been be-
queathed them by the will of the de-
ceased, had been placed to their cred
it by his executor, and awaited their
orders. After the first shock of
amazement- absolutely incredu-
lous surprise-was over, it would be
hard to say with how much of burn
ing Indignation this information was
received by one, at least, of the par
ties concerned. For time Hugh's
rage was almost inarticulate-then it
broke forth beyond all bounds.
"Was the old villain mad, or was it
only the devils own malice which
made him leave us such posthumous
insult?' he cried, addressing Marga-
ret, who sat with her eyes fixed on
the letter which contained this strange
and apparently incomprehensible in
telligence. ':My Godl if he was only
alive, that I might fling it back to
him with words such as he should
never forget! Did he think that we
are ikly to accept gift from him, or
did he only mean to jeer us from his
grave with our poverty and need?
May his money perish with him, and
may the eternal curse of God"
90 Hugh!" said Margaret, and for
once her voice had something of au-
thority in ito Hugh, for Heavens
sake, hushl Is Henry TyrTells in
sult-granting that he meant it as an
insult-worth such passion as this?
Remember-he is dead"
eyes," said her brother, bitterly,
"but his hatred, and the acts born of
his hatred, did not die with himl
Think of all we owe him, Margaret
think of it for one moment! First
and greatest, the death of our father;
after. that, and from that, what
train of ills! He-our father-was on
the high-road to fortune, after years
of effort, and, had he lived one year
longer, he would have made his wife
and children Independent of the world.
AS it was-cut off before one of his
schemes had reached maturity-you
know the bitter poverty which follow
ed, the privations which ground us to
the earth, and under which our moth
Ell died; you know what a hard strug-
gle I have had, how my life has been
marred and its best hopes blasted.
All of this we owe to Henry Tyrren.
And now-no'c, in his very grave-he
sends one crowning insult, one last
injury, and he is so far beyond my
arm that 1 can do nothing save ap-
peal to God to Judge between me and
him."
"God has Judged" said Margaret,
in low tone. "Is not that enough?
Hugh-stop and consider. Perhaps
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