The weekly Oskaloosa herald. [volume] (Oskaloosa, Iowa) 1855-1885, 1874-05-14

"You could do her a greater ser
vice at less COST" returned the
other dryly.
"Name it."
"Never see her again-nevel
speak to her. | am not likely tc
make one break a promise bnt
solemnly promise that, should you
repeat your foolish avowal to Ger
trude, and if she is weak enough to
listen to it, instead of her bringing
you the fortune with which it has
been my promise to endow her, she
shall come to you a beggar like your.
self"
"You do me injustice" answered
George, whose cheek flushed, "by
the intimation which has just es-
capped you. have never thought OF
Miss Gray with an eye to any pros.
poets she may have IN connection
with your fortune. I have loved her
for her own sake"
"Then for her sake desist from q
scheme which, if successful, must
reduce her to beggray. If you pos
sess 1.-THE of the unselishness you
profess, you will heed this warning
and 60 your way. I nave other
plans for Gertrude"
A moments reflection convinced
George that, harsh as Mr.. Peyton's
words were, in one respect they were
just. IL would be selfish to presist
in seeking happiness at the cost of
her whom he loved.
81 shall leave this place to-mor.
row." he said, and turned away.
The morning papers announced
the loss OF great steamer, bound
for San Francisco, Nearly all on
board had perished !; and among
the names of the lost was that of
George Hsyne.
Gertrude Gray swooned when she
read it. And Mr.. Peyton felt not
quite easy in his conscience.
That evening he sat moodily in
his study, he was interrupted by a
visitor, woman, whose form once
tall, was bent with age, and whose
wrlnkled face and wild eyes had
something sinister in them.
"Pray be seated, and explain the
reason of your visit, madame" said
Mr.. Peyton, pointing to a chair.
Taking the proffered seat, she re-
NAMED for time silent, gazing in
tently on the face before her.
Time had craven deep lines upon
it, and sorrow deeper still.
AS she pursued them, a smile of
satisfaction, more like shadow than
a smile, fitted over her countenance.
"You had a son once," she said,
and the lines grew deeper on the
face she was studying, and a panied
expression came over it. 81 too had
a son." she continued, Gan only son,
as yours was. In sudden affray he
had the misfortune in a moment of
passion, to slay his antagonist, who
was quite as blameable as himself.
The jury decided it murder, but
recommended him to mercy. 9th
ers joined in a petition for clemency.
My boys lite was in your hands. l
begged it of you on my knees. The
law had iDtrusted you with the dis
pensation of mercy; but you had no
mercy. You turned away from my
prayers, and my son was left to die
q felon's DEATH"
Geoffrey Peyton now remembered
the face that had often haunted him
since the day it had been turned
pleadingly upon him, and vividly re.
called the look of anguish it had
worn when he had spoke the relent.
less words that had crushed hope
out of the mothers heart.
"That day." she resumed, 81 took
an oath to make you feel, if possible,
all l have felt, and stole away your
child"
"My child lis he alive?
"Listen. / stole away your child
and left you to mourn him as dead.
| took him to a distant place and
reared him as my own. I bore no
malice toward him, l only hated you.
l brought him up tenderly, educated
him as my moderate means would
| allow, and felt thankful that in in.
fiicting punishment on the father, l
had been able to do 80 with little in.
jury to the child"
"Is he alive ?" cried the old man,
piteously. "Speak, woman !-have
you no mercy ?"
"You had none when l sought to
appeal to it," she answered. "That
your son is not alive, and that your
conscience may accuse you OF his
death, is the reason l am here. The
young man you drove away because
he presumed to love one for whom
your pride had prepared other plans,
was your own son /! Before he went,
he confided to me the cause of his
| going and on reading the announce
ment of his fate, resolved that you
should feel over again the agony of
q parents bereavement, heightened
now by the sting of remorse.
"Your story is false," he cried,
springing up-"a devilish invention
gotten up to torture me ! But / will
put you to proof. My son bore q
mark upon his person, put there
clandestinely by An old nurse in
India, when we travelled in that
country. If the child you say you
reared was my son, you must havs
seen and can describe that mark.
"a serpent's head, and some
strange characters, in India ink, on
the left arm below the elbow" was
the answer.
Geoffrey Peyton staggered, and
fell into the chair from which he had