The weekly herald. [volume] (Cleveland, Tenn.) 1876-1888, 1877-05-10

from her heart. Nevertheless, circum-
stantial evidence was against him. On
such night, the body of man thrown
into the river, would have been whirled
down to and lost in the ocean like a
wisp of straw.
Still, as no body could be found, the
direct proof of murder was wanting,
the Scotch jury brought in "Not Pro-
ven," and with the brand of Cain on
his forehead, which only the appear
ance of John WestmacOtt in life could
remove, the accused was released, con-
demned mutely, if not openly, by the
public voice.
'Then what do you think has become
of him 2" asked the Rector, sadly, after
hearing Thomas Mildmay's recital of
the quarrel.
81 cannot imagine, sir, unless he
committed suicide" was the rejoinder.
"He was mad at the moment. His ac-
cusatiOn, his language showed it. He
was capable of anything"
"What do You intend doing, my poor
boy?"
81 shall go abroad" answered the
young man, gloomily. "What becomes
of me there il of small consequence.
"Save to me, dear Tom," said May,
moving near to him, and lifting her
brave eyes to his. "If you go, it shall
not be alone. do not think you guilty.
believe all you have said. | have
promised to be your wife and | will be
so now as ever, dear"
For some moments his emotion was
too great for words. Then, embracing
her tenderly, he exclaimed:
"Heaven bless you for those comfort
ing words, my darling. But no; you
shall not make this sacrifice; you shall
not bear name shadOwed by such a
verdict, which implies my guilt, not
sufficiently proved for the law to pun
ish, but equally guilty"
Two years had elapsed, during which
no intelligence had been heard of John
Westmacott, were he living, nor lately
of Thomas Mildmay, when, one stormy
night, the anniversary of John West
macOtt's disappearance, the inmates of
the rectory were aroused by the deep,
melancholy boom of the minute-gun.
1t was sound unfortunately too often
heard on that wild, rugged north coast; /;
but its frequency did not deter the in
habitants from quitting their beds,
anxious to render aid.
The rector was ever among the first
to encourage and reward, On this night,
despite his persuasions, for she had
grown very delicate, May, her plaid
wrapped around her, accompanied him.
The beach, crowded with men, pre-
sented an animated scene. Beyond
tossed the stormy sea, as black as the
sky above, except when the white
crests of the waves flashed out, before
they broke with adeafening crash upon
the shore. Among those waves, gored
by then hidden reefs, was the ill-fated
ship, rolling as in mortal agony, while
clinging to the shrouds and rigging
were tiny specks, known to be men,
whose numbers, after each sweeping
wave, were mournfully lessened.
With difficulty the life-boat was
launched, manned by brave-hearted
volunteers, and pulled on its mission of
rescue.
Twice successfully it made the jour
ney, but the third time, caught by
side wave, it and its freight were
hurled pell-mell upon the beach.
'The boat is done for" said the Rec
tor, regarding it, "but, praise heaven,
not before all are saved"
"No, mol o, papa, in mercy, look"
cried May, catching his arm. ''There
is yet one on board who has been left
behind"
Her words attracted every eye on the
beach, and there, holding to the
shrouds, was visible the figure of
man. The next instant he had plunged
into the boiling sea.
"He would swimit it. 1t is impossible" "
calculated the Doctor. The boat is use
less. We have no means to help him,
unless any here would risk their lives
to meet him with a rope"
There was silence. The rope was
ready-the man wanting. They were
and those who were able regarded the
attempt as pure madness.
Suddenly in their midst stood man
already divested of his coat.
"Fasten the rope around me-" he
said, quietly, 81 am strong swimmer,
and perhaps can do it."
At the sound of his voice May sprang
forward with cry.
"Tom-Tom Mildmay!" she ex-
claimed. "Oh, no, no--not you"
He smiled encouragingly upon her,
watched for the resting wave, and the
next instant was battling his way
through the billows. In that stormy
sea, to follow his course was impossible.
They only knew his progress by the
telling-out of the rope.
1t was terrible suspense,-tO none
so much as to May, who leaned half
fainting, yet too anxious to lose entire
consciousness, on her fathers arm.
A quarter of an hour, and the signal
was given to pull in. Rapidly it was
obeyed. But each haul found the
weight heavier, until it was evident
that the swimmer or swimmers were no
longer able to assist themselves.
So it proved, when by one more haul
they were landed. The two were found
senseless, clasped in each others arms
with grip like death.
AnXiously the crowd gathered round,
and murmur of surprise burst from
many as In the preserver and preserved
they recognized Thomas Mildmay and
the supposed murdered man, John
Westmacott.
Little remains to be told. John
Westmacott, on recovering, heard with
considerable emotion who had been his
rescuer, and eagerly he explained the
mystery of his disappearance on that
eventful night.
Maddened by passion, after striking
Thomas Mildmay down, he set off to
a neighboring seaport, resolving never
place foot in the rectory again.
A vessel, when he arrived, was on
the point Of starting for Norway-a
place he had long desired to visit,--and
he took passage in her, hoping by