Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1880-05-27
CHAPTER XXI.
"Come, gentle nght loving, black kbrow'd night,

"Come, gentle night; come loving black kbrowd night
Give me my Romeo"
"Glorious news, Miss Ellen Our arms
have been again victorious" said Mr.. Adams
as he entered the Mansion.
"That is indeed joyful tidings," replied El
len, with sparkling eyes. Have you bad dl
rect news from our friends ?"
"No; nothing definite" he replied, "but the
country is full Off Tarleton's dragons are
flying, for dear life, to the main army"
"We shall hear to-day. God grant our
friends are safe," said Ellen.
"Yes think So shall not 60 home till
I hear the particulars"
But the day passed, and yet another, with
out tidings. Ellen was growing intensely
anxious, when, at the close of the second day,
couple of horsemen were seen advancing,
and Ellen could scarcely recognize in the pale
and haggard face of the elder, her uncle, Mr..
Willoughby. Davie, too, was fearfully pale,
and the broad black patch on bis brow, be-
trayed the cause of his feeble and faltering
gait.
"Mr. Adams the one of all others, l
wished to see. This is kind" said Mr.. Will
loughby, feebly dismountiug from his horse.
"Henry, you are wounded" cried Ellen, as
ghastly pale nc sank upon seat.
"Not seriously" said he, striving to reas-
sure her by smile "Only sabre stroke,
and long ride has weakened me"
An expression of intense anguish crossed
Mr.. Willoughby's face, as he watched Ellen
performing those Offices for Davie she had so
recently performed for the noble Graham. A
few whispered words from Davie told her the
startling circumstances of his death, and Da-
vie forgave the tears that dropped SO gently
over the memory of the high souled chivalric
Englishmsn. Mr.. Willoughby never held
up his head again. His heart was indeed
broken, and the remorse of years took speedy
revenge on his feeble frame. A few mornings
after his return, he entered the room where
Davie and Ellen were sitting. Giving them
an open packet and miniature, he said in
toucbingly tender tones
"Read this, my children, and if you can,
forgive one whose sins have been only equal
ed by his sufferings. As evidence of your
pardon, I ask you to grant me but one re-
quest ere death closes my life Of misery. and
the grave hides forever this burning memo
ry." He turned and left them.
And Davie, opening the miniature, disclosed
the counterpart of the picture Graham wore
in his bosom. A secret spring had been
opened, and another face, in youthful man
hood looked out upon them. 1t was the fac.
simile of the portrait of Mr.. Willoughby,
which hung on the wall-taken years ago, in
England. A tress of wavy hair, black as
night, slowly unwound like long dark men,
ory, surprising them with its fabulous length.
This is not the picture Graham had," said
Ellen. "The hair there was brown and
curling"
"No," replied Davie, "that was buried
with him. Mr.. Willoughby said he was un-
worthy to remove it. He opened it, how
ever, and showed me separate case like this,
with his own likeness, and Herbert, engraved
ningly contrived. No one would have ever
suspected there was second likeness; and
poor Graham carried that next his heart,
perhaps for years, and never knew how
slight an accident divided him from the
knowledge of his father"
The manuscript was broken by much that
was irrelevant to the single history, and had
evidently been prepared since the discovery
of Graham as his child. There were prayers
of tbankfulness, passionate bursts of grief,
solemn VOWS to permit neither memory or
affection, life or death, to stand between him
and the love of his neglected child and Ell
len read that she was to be sacrificed to this
darling scheme Here then was the secret
of all his madness, and Davie told her of the
stormy interview they had on the day of his
capture. The old man had met him with q
dogged stubbornness, which Davie, in vain
tried to overcome Finding his persuasions
only seemed to exasperate Mr.. Willoughby
Davie told him firmly and plainly his deter
mination. Mr.. Willoughby few into a
stormy passion and swore Ellen should be
cut off from all expectation from him. Davie
coolly replied he had enough for both, and
was quite willing to assume the responsibility
then and there, Of her future fortunes. Mr.
Willoughby then tried to frighten him with
his curse, which not intimidating the fearless
soldier as it had Ellen's gentler nature, he
implored him Ly every solemn prayer to
desist from his suit, and in moment Of
earnest entreaty, and agonized terror, con
fessed the relation in which Graham stood
towards him. Davie was kind, respectful and
sympathising, but as firm and determined as
ever, and plainly told him that to expect
Ellen to make the atonement for his sin, was
as cruel as it was unjust, and he would for
bid it were it at the very altar. The old
man wept and stormed and supplicated in
in vain, entreating Davie not to mention hi
suit to Ellen. To which Davie replied he
had and would, and he lacked but her consent
to put forever and Immediately out of hi:
power, this cruel and continued persecution
And so they parted-the one bent on hi
cherished scheme of restitution the other
if possible, more firmly resolved at once tt
relieve his Ellen from these trials. How
each was disappointed we have seen. Tht
manuscript concluded in words of most hope
less misery, praying forgiveness for all th'
sorrow he had caused them, and implorln&
tLo Iootb +bot woul6 root and release his hur