The New Bloomfield, Pa. times. (New Bloomfield, Pa.) 1877-188?, 1878-01-29

for weeks / lay In critical condition.
The residents Of the house did not know
who ! was, and they made but few In
quiries. But they nursed me back to
life; and one of their number, who had
some knowledge of surgery, one day
performed an operation upon me, rails
ing portion of my skull which pressed
upon the brain, and thereby restoring
me to consciousness.
From that time my recovery was
rapid. | soon learned from the news
paper that body supposed to be mine.
had been found in the river, and buried
by my relatives. No one questioned
the fact of my death The thought
arose in my mind, why not remain dead
to the worldY Why make my existence
in the land of the living known to my
former friends? My father had dlsown-
ed me l was tabooed by good society,
dlstrusted by my companions at the
gaming table on account of certain
sharp practices had INDUCED in. In
short, my reputation with every one
hoo 90 bNu oo IL COulu OC3 anu lily OGCll-
patton was about gone. To be sure, if j
declared myself / might recover the
six thousand dollars, of which l had
been robbed, and punish the thief-par-
don the term, my dear Bentley-but, on
the other hand, should be again oblig-
ed to shoulder debt amounting to
double that sum.
:" After careful consideration of the
matter, / concluded to leave Egbert El-
more undlsturbed in his grave. NV
newly found friends were professional
thieves / Joined them in several OF
their expeditions, and when aecumu-
lated few hundred dollars, emigrated
to London. There for ten years re-
mained, practicing my old profession
with varying success. When l heard
of my fathers death, / thought of re-
turning, acknowledging my identity,
and claiming the property but | soon
learned that he had, by rash speculation
lost it all So, still / kept my secret.
''About five years ago friend of mine
visited America, and l asked him to
make inquiries regarding Edward Bent
ley; describing you, my dear boy, and
giving him such particulars as thought
would prevent the possibility of mis-
take. Whether he really made inqu-
ries or not, do not know, but if he did,
he was misilformed, for he returned
with the information that you, Bentley,
were dead.
Il was disappointed, for hoped that
you had grown wealthy in the five years
that had passed; in which case j con
fess, / intended to return to New York
and bleed you. But, my dear Bentley,
as your worldly possessions increased,
Hi1 to and a fpU he
| learned that you still lived, and had
become a millionaire. / then matured
the scheme which / afterwards carried
into execution. Richard Carroll was
my best friend he had saved my life,
he had often shared his last shilling
with me. Now he was in trouble; he
had forged a draft on the Bank of Eng
land, and the police were after him. L
was grateful to him for the favors had
received at his hands, and l offered to
assist him in escaping to America with
me, and to share with him the golden
harvest which expected to reap.
i did not, however, reveal my secret
even to him, for there was possibility
that he might at some future time, turn
against me, and 1 would not put myself
in his power. l informed him of such
portions of my history as thought best,
but left him in the dark as to my iden-
tity, and to this day he does not know
my real name. | told him that pos
sessed a millionaire's secret which was
worth to me money, position, every
thing. / offered to share all but the Sc
cret with him. He gladly agreed to
this. 1t was necessary that he should
change his name. | agreed to give him
mine-that of Heith-and to Introduce
him to New York society as my son.
To this, also, he willingly consented.
furnished him with disguise | sue
ceeded in putting the police completely
off the track, and sent them to Paris in
search of him. That they have at last
caught him astonishes me. The day we
arrived in New York, Carroll and 1 ae-
cidentally saw your daughter. He took
fancy to her. l determined he should
marry her, knowing that such an ALI
ance would be mutually advantageous
to us. The rest you know"
He paused, exhausted with The effort
ne had made.
Two hours later he died.
And now but little remains to be told
Waiter Elmore and Edith Bentley
were married few weeks after the oc-
currences we have just recorded; and at
the same time Henry Oakley led to the
altar Blanche Leighton-she whom, un-
til now, we have known as Mara Sgd
ney. They have been married several
years, and two happier couples cannot
be found in New York City.
Mrs. Gilmore, the terrible secret which
had so long shadowed her life removed,
became quietly happy woman, whose
presence was, and is, d sunshine to all
around her.
Edward Bentley, too, is wonderfully
altered man joy has taken the place OF
Il A.