The Albany register. [volume] (Albany, Or.) 1868-18??, 1874-09-25

I knew tha5 man would iniure me some
day. / saw more trickery and uuder-
hand dealing while in that Office than 1
had ever seen in my life before. Mr.
Pierson was man Of tnct, not talent
He had gained several good casea, which
made lis reputation, and he had way
of making people believe that if black
was not iustwhite, it was certainly gray,
which proved very useful to him.
81 was about twenty-five when I
went into Kent for a few weeks, partly
to visit an uncle of mine. Am I tiring
you, sir, with this long story?'
''Not at all, Tracy go on
| All started at the unfamiliar name,
which the doctor slightly emphasized.
His breath came quickly, and his voice
was husky when he spoke again:
4" Would you think, now, that a man
could hear his own name go seldom,
that when it was spoken rs you spoke
mine, it could make the past come back
| like the great wave, almost blotting out
| the present? I haven't heard my name
for more than ten years. he went on
musingly. 81 don't wonder it sounds
strange to me. 1t was in the summer
when l went to Kent +; the time for fall
ing in love- as it is called, and, Of
course, [ did it. L don't wonder at my
/ self, even now, when remember ell
that has passed. We were thrown very
much together. Lucy was an orphan,
| living with a rich maiden aunt, whose
place abjoined my uncle's. 1 had al
| ways a fondness for playing the part of
protector and she was clinging, de-
| pendent little thing, with long golden
curs and delicate pink-andw white dal-
| sy face. had never cared for any girl
before, and from the first 1 loved her
t. Er.I.l I I-x-~. >
neednt make a fool of myself again by
telling it to you. Before 1 went back
TO town, we had exchanged rings, and
she had promised to love me through
eternity. A lengthy eternity it proved
/ 'Our engagement was to remain
secret until 1 should become q great
lawyer, and then [ was to claim her.
This was Lucy's idea. I wanted to
speak to her aunt, but she begged me
not, giving a dozen different reasons for
my silence. l believe, even then, she
thought it best not to bind herself too
closely; but, of course, l never suspect
ed this, for, with all my faults, I had al
ways been perfectly honest and truthful.
In the winter, Mr. Pierson told me that
the business I had been attending TO had
now to be completed, and that he was
going down himself. I was, of course.
very anxious to go, but he did not give
1iIS biIS CI1ALlCSs Lucy met nlul III Il
couple of dinners, and, from what she
said, l knew he had been very attentive
to her. He was a good looking man,
about forty, and could make himself
very agreeable when he chose to do so.
1 wrote to Lucy Immediately. telling her
what I thought of him. She replied,
accusing me of being jealous, and say
ing she was sure [ was prejudiced
against Mr.. Pierson, who had spoken
I l,ir Of To- rIo, n
she had confided the whole stoEy of our
engagement. [ was very angry, and
wrote rather harshly to her, 1 fancy, for
I remember sac told me / did not love
her as L once did That was our first
quarrel and was soon made up, and for
a few weeks We corresponded as usual.
, Mr.. Pierson returned to London, but
went back again to Kent in week or
two. He said he was collecting evidence
, for an important case.
"Soon [ noticed that Lucy's letters
grew shorter and shorter, and finally
one came saying that she had been
thinking over our foolish engagement,
and as there was no prospect of my be
ing able to support her, she had come
to the conclusion that for the sake of us
both it had better be broken
Il know every word of that cool,
heartless letter now. One remembers
of her engagement to Mr.. Pierson 1
was a gentlemen, and he was a snob !;
but he had money, and / hadn't
''' What's gentleman born? Is it
shillip's an pence >" quoted the doc
tor, softly.
"Eh what's that 2"
"Only quotation from the York
shire Farmer go on.
Well, of course I was furious, but
I Il i L., T ~
if I only had money, 1 would find some
means of revenge but money was Just
what I hadn't got. About that time, /
met q man calling himself St. John.
! He was clever and well educated, und
seemed to read all my wild, restless
longings at a glance. He led me from
bad to worse, till it ended in forgery
then he turned kings evidence, and
was locked up. I was always very strong,
and finding one of the bars loose, ]
wrenched It out. and dropped from my
window one dark night, and escaped.
| On my way to the sea, [ met this man
/ st John. Z might have got off if ]
could have let him alone, but [ couldn t.
: ! stopped him; he tauuted me with my
: disgrace told me that Mr.. Pierson had
known of the plan to ruin me. The
1 young lady throwing you over was 9
? prime trump in our hand, he added,
[ with leer. I warned him to be silent
but he. as If blind to his danger, exas-
perated me in every way possible.
{ grappled with him, and remembering q
e trick / had learned 1T school, soon threw
him. My hands were on his throat a
4 half-minnte more, and the earth would
have been rid of one sofdid wretch but
e his cries had been heard by some mel
;. in a neighboring field, and was over
, powered. This man-a ruined game
j. ster, once a gentleman-had changed
4 me from an honest, honorable lad, to {
o feloD, and then, disregarding the hon
e or which is said to exist even 'amone
4 thieves, threw me over to save himself
; I would be content to give five years O
O my life-nay, more, L would be conten
$ to add five years to my life-conld i
r purchase that one half minute of which
n [ was robbed.
: "My family disowned me, and made
r no attempt even to procure counsel fol
= me. All forsook me except little Mary
:. from whom gct a tear stained lettel
d inclosing fve-pound note, her quar-
r terly allowance, and telling me tha