Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1879-10-03
NO. 23S.
Gales ano Skettbes.
MR.. CARMICmAEL's CONVERSION.
A NINETEENTH-CENT MYSTERY.
CONTINUED from Yesterday


chael's good angel kept guard over the
telescope. seeing he was certainly not IN
the society of that gentleman, who was by
this time plunged in depth OF despair
and intoxication which made it delicate
question whether he would leave this world
sober or not There was perhaps word
of apology. if not of excuse, to be ssd
for him. His father, an honest Scotch la
borer, had struggled faithfully along in
the world, and had done as much for his
son as with his slender means he could
afford; and one day he had folded his
hands with vague hope in his low mind
that future life would make good the
shortcomings of this; and so died. Young
Carmichael's faults and misfortunes till he
took to drinking were mostly Of mega
tive kind; which was ut this time his mis-
fortune, for if he had committed crime
punishable with death he might have been
hung respectfully. Mr.. Carmichael, hav.
ing been born and bred in misfortune, had
at last made up his drunken mind-afer
no reflection, be it said-that on the whole
it were better to die than to live on ior-
ever i'm this way, with nothing to hope for.
and only the Jail or poor house staring
him in the face It was no fault of his, So
after Captain Dunlow's arrival in Milboro
Mr.. Carmichael borrowed-if he did net
steal-the ragged halter of the solitary
horse in the tumbledown barn behind the
house. and with shambling gait, and
face bristling with beard of a weeks
growth shuffied along under Heavens
bright sunlight, in the perfect loveliness
of a summers day, unmoved by the birds
or sunshine, by flowers or passing breeze,
and unconsciously took the path that led
to the place called Purgatory.
Mr.. Carmchael's fate had ordained that
Captain Dunlow should be in his rOtunda
reconnoitring the neighborhOOd with his
spyglass, much after the manner OF the
Arabian sorcerers in lrving's tales. The
scraps OF information obtained were. how
ever, of the prOsiest description. but were
each in turn shouted down through
species of trapdoor in the floor to the un-
fortunate Miss Dinah below, who, suffer-
ing from delicate nerves, was hardly
soothed by having Cows ahoy"' There
are them confounded turkeys got into the
wheat field" "Boys in the cherry trees y
yelled at her every few minutes. Sud-
denly death-like silence prevailed, and
Miss Dinah, taking advantage of the lull.
folded her thin, respectable hands and
dropped into gentle doze.
Mr.. Carmchael's good angel had so ar
ranged matters that when the captain had
examined the fields of grain swaying in
the afternoon breeze, and had looked at
every conceivable object far and near, he
should bring his glass to bear on that open
space in the woods which Carmichael had
reached in his reckless determination. and
where Dunlow had overtaken him like
nineteenth century magician; and not too
soon, God knows, not too soon, and the
captains hair stood on end in futile horror.
Down below there, in that clearing, he
could Just see a man with wild, despairing
face-his reckless face-a rope-the high,
strong branch of Il tree-God's mercy on
the wretch! he was going to hang himself!
For moment the captains heart stood
still with the horrible sense of his helpless
ness to save the man, who would be dead
before the quickest could reach the spot
even saying that a straight path led thrO'
the dense woods-when suddenly, thank
Cod thought flashed upon him. He
grasped his speaking trumpet, and with
his eye glued to the fatal spot he shouted
with all the strength of his strong lungs,
Skinner, beware! The eye of the Lord is
upon you!'
The man named Carmichael had already
hung the rope on the tree, and had fash
ioned good strong moose; perhaps in
moment more there would have been little
left to tell. had not the words come to him
through the still air. Rough, hardened
man that he was, his strong hands shook,
and his knees so trembled that he fell fiat
to the ground. Men of Carmichael's stamp
are supposed not to have nerves, but what
ever there was of such commodity in him
had been over-cultivated by repeated at
tacks of drunken delirium, till the gnaw-
ing of a mouse would drive him wild.-
What wonder, then, at the horrible fear
that took possession of him, as, terror
stricken, he stealthily stared about the
lonely spot and saw no one. heard nothing
more! Carmichael knew of heaven. Why.
he'd even been in the church in MilborO'-
a church that had familiar trust in Divine
Providence, believing it would go out of
its way and upset all known laws to save
one sinner, however unworthy. So this
man with shaken nerves, in the midst Of
terror and cowardice, had vague belief
in a miracle performed, and so skunk away
through the woods, leaving the horribly
suggestive moose still hanging on the tree
to darken and disgrace the sunny after
noon.
".
A curious age, the nineteenth century,
with its bad reputation for scepticism. and
at the foundation touching desire to be-
lieve everything in default of believing
nothing. There is no doubt but that the
Church needs periodical stirring up, as
we'll as other professions and it happened
curiously enough, that at that time any re-
ligious incident with flavor of excitement
was welcomed rapturously.
These things were hardly known to MIR.
Carmichael, except perhaps in that vague
and rude fashion in which every man
learns who is only a trife ahead OF a brute
beast. This man, who would have faced
death in immovable stupidity, had at the
eleventh hour been utterly shaken by .
voice without an attendant body where
there could have been no one, it seemed
ON close examination; ergo, it must have
been voice directed from the region we
call heaven. from which Mr.. Carmichael
concluded, in his by no means clear mind.
that he was reserved for something better.