Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1875-10-20

turning from short trip taken for the
benefit of my health, and that of nv
daughter Sybel. who accompanied us.
We stopped on the 10th day of June,
IS, at Allonby's for the night, and oc-
cupied adjoining rooms. [ was tired
and weak, and ret;.ed early. Willough-
by declared ne distrgsted our host: but
I smiled at the idea. Lord John carried
leather bag filed with guineas, and
the innkeeper accidentally entered
his room as Willoughby placed
it under his pillow. A1lonby
begged pardon, and Willoughby got
into bed, after fastening the door.
About two or three o'clock 1 heard a
heartrending moan. I tried to rise,
but for moment could not do so.
Again that groan, and dragging myself
to the door, I beheId Allonby carving
my murdered friend down the stairs.
The blood was running freely from a
stab in the breast, and his night-shirt
was crimson with gore. With sort of
horrible fascination I crept on after the
innkeeper. He went down-down-
down into the dungeon; and II fol-
lowed him on. [ saw them dig grave
in one corner of this horrible room, and
then, with his wife's help, he threw the
body into it. Then they both went to
work, and the dirt fell with dull
heavy thud into the grave. Finally ii
was done, and long mound of fresh
earth lay heaped in the corner. When
it was done, 1 sank back in the shadow
of the iron steps and groaned,
faint with horror. The guilty
couple glanced hastily around, but did
not see me; and they ran up the steps,
and [ heard the door close with heavy
jar. Now, I have exhausted my feeble
strength in attempting to open the great
door. / have screamed until the sound
of my voice has become terror. The
pangs of thirst and hunger warn me
that if help does not arrive shortly, I
shall soon become like that still, mani
mate thing beneath yonder heap of clay
[ fear for the fate of my child, and by
the light of the fast-dying lamp I be-
seech and pray you to whom this MS.
may fall, that you leave no stone un-
turned to learn her fate, and bring to
justice Hugh Allonby and his wife,
whom here solemnly charge with the
murder of Lord John Willoughby, of
Willoughby Hall. Here, in my living
tomb, by the grave of that murdered
friend, I bid the world last farewell. :"
The journal dropped from Ormsby's
hand, and he sprang excitedly to his
feet
"We shall act, gentlemen, and that
Immediately. 1 shall offer reward for
Allonby's arrest, and send kilograms to
Ashmorelands and Willoughby Hall. )"
BE still p said Ned, putting his
hands to his head. ''Here is Hugh
Allonby's address; have him brought to
justice as soon as possible The Bar
onet's daughter is living with them as
their own child, so it will not be diff
cult to find her. In the meantime the
widow of the murdered lord must be
appraised. am positive that Lady Ash
more did not survive the disappearance
OF her husband year. remember the
hue and cry made at the time.
Lady Willoughby arrived on the fifth
day, and with few friends went down
into that gloomy dungeon where SO
long time the murdered body of her
husband had slept that last sleep. Two
handsome cofirs contained all that was
left of those so dear to the living.
the house of her fathers saw the inn
keeper and his guilty wife hanging on
the gallows. Retribution, though late,
had come to them at last.
x
A year later, and the old church bells
rang out merry wedding peal, and
down its wide. old aisles filed a we'd
ding party. Standing where the broad
beams of the sun shone on them
through the stained-glass Spanes, and
where from the alter the sublime per-
fume of rare flowers that carpeted their
way filed the air with fragrance, the
white-haired priest bound them to-
gether, and Sybel, daughter of the bar
net OF Ashmorelands, became the wife
of the bankers heir.