The Cincinnati daily star. [volume] ([Cincinnati, Ohio]) 1875-1880, 1877-04-18

open by the lover, who was waiting in
side. TO see his daughter, as he did
see her, clasped in the arms OF the man
he hated, set the blood of Mr.. Harvard
on fire, and dartlng up the steps he
sprang at the pair as il he had been a
wild beast springing on its prey.
"The poor girl heard the approaching
feet, looked around, and recognized her
father with. a shrek, just as his insane
grip was laid on heE and she was
Whirled to the other side of the narrow
apartment, where she staggered up
against the wall, tor the moment stunned
and breathless. This was done so quick
| ly that Lieutenant Cavendish had not
time to interpose. Then Mr.. Hayward
laced the young officer, his face work.
ing and white with passion.
"'How dare you? Traitorl VillaihV
"The words came Kissing out, red-hot
with rage, and he shook his clenched
hand at the other.
1.-The lover drew himself up haughtily,
and all the blood lett his face. But even
in that moment OF insult he remembered
that the speaker was Helen's father.
Before he could reply, however, the girl
recovered her feet, and rushed back to
her lovers side. With one arm resting
on his shoulder, andsthe other held out
deprecatingly to keep her parent off, she
cried:
"'It is I, not he, that is to blame.
Father, o, fatherp
"The last words came quick and gasp
ing, for the old man, now more insane
| than ever with hatred and rage, laid his
hands, this time, on the young man him
self; in tact, attempted to seize him by
the throat. But Lieutenant CaYendisn
was twice as powerful as his assailant,
aud easily tiung him off with one hand,
| while he encirced Heien's waist with
| the other, stepping back at the same
time, as ii to get out OF the old mans
| reach.
"'l am no traitor or villain,' said the
young officer, proudly. Nor is your
daughter to blame. She was just bid
ding me last farewell
"Yesl yesp she cried eagerly. q told
him would never marry any one with
out your consent. l Will wait for him
| for years, said-and heaven knows l
will-but Will never go against your
COMMANDED
"'Was it at my command you met him
herep sneereu the old man. 'Ha, hal
you thought TO make fool of me, did
you?
"Not so,' cried Helen. %, father, be
JUST
"He took no notice of her piteous ap-
peal, but advanced again on her lover.
"'Unhand her, sir,' he said, savagely,
| 'or, by heaven
''The sentence was cut short by a wild
| shrek from his daug ghter, for Mr. Hay
| ward, as he spoke, drew q small pistol
| from the breast-pUcket Of his coat. Then,
| finging her arms around her lover, ana
| looking over her shoulder With scared
face, Helen cried:
| u Ia ihar dnn1t dnn1F
"'Let me go,' cried the lover, in the
| same breath, trying o eXtricate himself,
''He is mad, he will XIII you" And he
| took the two poor little hands, that were
| clasped so tgatly about his neck, and
would have parted Them.
"'Leave him, or your death be on your
own head,' cried the father, stepping
close up TO the pair.
Ellis daughter gazed at him, with her
great eyes, implorlngly, as deer some
times looks when the hunters knife is al
its throat;buJ she never let 20 her lover,
being, tor mat supreme instant, strong
| Ell than even he.
"For it was only for an instant thai
| this lasted. The three had really spo-
| ken together. The whole scene came
and went like the rush OF a whirlwind.
The maid, hearing the shrek, the angry
voices, the shuft1ing of feet, had over
come her terr0rs, and had hurried to
| the door OF the mill. just as she reached
| it, however, the climax came. Her foot
was on the Last step, when she saw
Lieutenant Cavendish retreating, and
quite close TO her, while the iniuriated
father was following, with pistol raised
and pointed, Helen was still clinging 10
| her lover, luterposing her body be-
! tween him and her parent; and the lover
l ilN,t.N
| meet alone the vengeance OF the father,
or, if possible, to sarm him.
| "At that moment Mr.. Hayward fired
The maid saw the flash; it was almos
| directly in her face, and stopped with a
| scream. The lover started back, and
| had nearly fallen, for the poor girl had
| suddenly sunk, u dead weight around
his neck, the blood gushing over her
white dress from bullet in her heart.
| POSSIBLY, il the daughter HAD been
less seJi-devoted; if she had not, with
her heroic resolve to die rather than let
her lover die, unconsciOusly impeded
his etforts-possibly, l say, in such an
| event Lieutenant Cavendish might have
disarmed the father. But Heaven alone
knows. 1t was one OF those awful trag-
edes that recall the old Greek idea o.
late, a tragedy that advances irresisti-
| bly, 70 its elimination, compelling even is
into its vortex, and .engulfng all its
actors.
"For, as you may suppose, the life,
even OF the innocent survivor, was a ru-
ined one. AS tor Mr.. Hay yward, he had
always, as have said, been eccentric,
and from that fatal hour he went raving
mad-had been mad, one should charita-
| bly, hope, from the very beginning OF
that dread evening. He did not long
survive. After his death The mansion
lTemained tenantless, Tor nobody would
buy 1t, or even lease it; and i'll the end
it was pulled down. Ir you pass by
those two tall poplars that once fianked
the gateway, you will find, just Deyond,
a grass-grown hollow that marks the IL.
callty OF the cellar, and you Will see,
here and there, a few fragments OF brick
work, the remnants OF the fireplace and
chimney.
"Lieutenant Cayendish never married.
He died in the prime OF life. 1t was his
custom whenever off duty to wander
about the old mill and visit again and
again the grave where his lost Helen lay.
There are some Of the old inhabitanLs Is
who still remember him-a tall. soldier
ly man, gray before his time, and with a