Centre Democrat. [volume] (Bellefonte, Pa.) 1848-1989, 1880-04-29

looks and actions. Ills hair had grown
whittier, his eyes more sunken, the lines
upon his face deeper; and there was a
look in his countenance that n person
might have who was almost at the
point where hope Is lost. This change
impressed no one so much as 1t did
George Rankin on his return to Berkton
in June TO spend the summer. 1t be-
came the burden of his thought. He
was sure that the pastor was waginga
fearful warfare with some great evil.
and he felt that IL was contest In
which the minister was losing ground,
and that the time of his utter defeat
and fall was near. His conscience con-
demned him for keeping back Mt first
what he had known of Raymond.
He thought 1t his duty TO go TO the Off
GERS of the church ut once ar d tell
them what he knew and what he feared
of the man who stood over them in
holy things, and he did it. BY Sunday
the secret was generally known. Never
theless, the congregation that gathered
while the tolling of the bell sounded
out through the beautiful valley and
over the hill of Berkton to hear the pop
ular preacher was as large as ever.
Doubtless many who were there had
more curiosity than ever to hear him.
And manv, too, felt genuine pity for the
man. The seats were filled, the bell
ceased tolling. There was silent, wait
ing audience, but there was no speaker.
The pastor failed to come that morning.
After remaining little while the people
left the church; and outside. fer some
time after the congregation had broken
up, there were many little groups OF
persons discussing in quiet and solemn
tones the melancholy fate of their tai
ented preacher.
The day passed and dark night set
| in. That night was not soon forgotten
| by the residents of Berkton. The news
that flew through the village the next
morning was of the most startling
nature. II was that woman had been
found at about midnight near the pas
tors house in an Unconscious state, with
knife driven into her body near her
heart. The two physicians uf the place
were summoned to attend her, and
though she still lived they pronounced
her wound probably fatal. At the time
she was found the minister's where
abouts was not known. About an hour
later he walked into the room where
the still unconscious woman lay. lie
had a haggard look, and acted like a
| person not fully conscious OF what was
going on. He asked no questions and
made no remarks: but preserved per-
feet silence through The remainder of
the night. What his thoughts were as
he stood for n long while al time by
the side OF the bed, and gazed ut the
figure lying upcn it; OF when he paced
back and forth in the corridor outside
the chamber door, no one could tell
The knife that had been used for the
dreadful deed was identified by the SER
wants as one which had sometimes lain
on Mr. Raymond's desk in his library.
and was mt other times carried by him :.
The country for miles around was
searched, but no one was found who
was suspected of the crime. In the light
of the events of the previous year, and
Of present circumstances, the people of
Berkton soon discerned who must have
been the perpetrator of the awful act.
They came to the conclusion that the
Rev. John RAYMOND, while lnboring
under some dark delusion, caused by n
long indulgence in that habit which il
was now considered proved had mas
tered him, had committed this crime.
The once popular preacher became In
their eyes fiend. There was deter
mination that justice should certainly
and speedily take its course. At the sug-
gestion CT some OF the citizens, the sus-
pected man was taken into custody by
the officers OF the law, and hurried to
jail, to wait the result of the woman's
injuries. The arrest seemed great sur
prise 10 Raymond. When the officers
called at his house, and in the library
informed him of their intention, he pre-
tended to think II was all like horrid
dream.
lis IL possible" he asked, THAT I
am suspected Of numbering my wiie1"
Then after n moments pause he said (:
If must go and leave her, permit me
TO remain until an old family physician,
whom l have sent for. and whom I ex-
pect every moment. arrives"
The officers waited. and in a short
time the physician came, . stranger TO
household, He came In n carriage of
the pastors, and the horse showed he
had been driven very hard and long
distance. Raymond was not permitted
TO see the newcomer alone. At his re-
quest one of the other doctors was
called in and introduced 10 the stranger.
Raymond called the latter DIR. Walden,
and stated he had been his medical adj
wiser for years; and that he wished him
to take charge of the present case, while
he hoped the other doctors would give
their aid and counsel. And then as
he turned to follow the officers away,
he remarked in low tone:
% ode. Walden, reveal no secret that
you know"
There was general satisfaction in
Berkton that Raymond was lodged in
jail. And there was Also n general ex-
pectation for days OF hearing that his
wife was dead. The sympathy for the
latter, of whose existence up to that
night no one in the place had dreamed,
was as universal as the abhorrcnce
in which her husband was at that time
held.
The announcement of Mrs. Raymond's
death, so constantly looked for, did not
come. For several weeks she lowered
between life and death. and then grew
better. The village doctor ceased to
uftand xtrnu haw AnH ti.n,.l, sa.a