The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1881-07-21

secret. Still pale and trembling with
agitation, she had gone to her room; and
at dinner her maid informed US that Miss
Clare had given orders not to be disturb
ed, and Hilarie, being inquired for, was
found to have gone out some hours pre-
viously and not yet returned. Still, con
versation was lively at the dinner-table,
when we were suddenly startled by
hurried trampling Of feet and a confu-
sion Of voices, broken suddenly by the
unceremonious entrance of Mark Thorn
son, under gardner at the hall, who,
breathless with excitement, informed us
that ''there was summit wrong up at
Alton Woods; man murdered, sure,
and Miss Hilarie she be wi him and sent
me on for help" I was already at the
door, my one thought of HIarie Mr..
Beresford and the men servants follow
ing, when Glare, white aud shivering,
met me as though she would go with me;
she looked so terribly Ill that l begged
her to return to her room, but she shook
her head, saying ''I must go. Hilarie
must not be there Alone" and 50 Glare
and [ were the first to reach the entrance
of the wood, the first to see Hilarie with
her face buried in her hands, kneeling
beside the murdered man sobbing bitter
ly. Glare turned shuddering away; but
[ sprang forward, crying, "Hilarie, Hi
larie."
'Oh, the agony of the white stream
irg face lifted to myown, as she tottered
to her feet, crying out wildly, ''Oh why,
why did yOu come here" and with low,
sobbing cry, she reeled and fell insensi
bic into my arms. "HilaTie, speak to
me-oh, Hilarie, my love. my darlirg"
I cried, pressing her frantically to my
heart, and all my love for Hilarie was re-
vealed in those few passionate words, to
Glare.
Even then I was conscious Of the pitt
ful pumb despair on her poor, pale face
as she abruptly turned and left me alone
with my unconscious burden.
1 pray Heaven may never know again
the terrible agony that followed close
upon that fatal night. I wonder I did
not go mad when they accused Hilarie,
my beautiful Hilarie, of the foul crime
of murder. had been mercifully spar
ed the sight of her arrest, but they told
me she had uttered no word, only white
and still had let them lead her away to
felon's cell.
The murdered man had been stabbed
to the heart with some weapon which
bad not yet been discovered, and hidden
in his clenched right hand was found
part of a torn certificate of marriage
solemnized two years before between
"George Morton Dean" and "Hilarie
-" The rest had been torn away, so
that only that Christian name remained
with what appeared to be the upper part
of capital G., the initial letter of the
surname Graeme.
In the opinion of the police this was
sufficient to fasten the crime upon poor
Hilarie, and it was generally believed that
in her wild, unrestrained youth she had
been led into a 0lesGlijapce with the muv-
dered man, whose appearance was decid-
ediy plebian, that his coming to Beech
Hall to claim his wife had aroused her
dormant passion, and that in her dread
of exposure she had first tried TO obtain
possession OF the proof OF her marriage,
and stained her soul with murder.
Ii the doctors opinion the crime had
been committed during the afternoon of
the day upon which the body was dis
covered. Like flash Of fire there came
to me the remembrance OF that meeting
with Hilarie end hex naasy ooncealment
of the scrap OF paper. / remember her
guilty flash, her confused replies, and,
Heaven forgive me, for one brief moment
| trembled lest she should be guilty Of
the horrible crime imputed to her. |
drove the mad thought from me as un-
.worthy my manhood and my love, and
redoubled my unceasing efforts to estab-
lsh her innocence; Hilarie f,c.ll the first
had refgceG to see lie. I had written
imploring her to speak, if only one word
that might prove her innocent; bu. she
wrote, 81 can say nothing. pray only
that you may be happy with Clara. .
And the terrible dark days followed
swiftly one upon the other, each adding
to the subtle wei Of evidence they were
Weaving around my darling, until some
times | fancied it must all be some nor
rlble dream from which / must surely
soon awake. Yet there was HRS. Beres-
fo-ds bitter wailing for the disgrace upon
her house, and Clara terrible pallor and
mute, sorrowful despair, gave NE an ad-
ditional pang that [ had brought double
trouble upon her.
There remained but one day now before
that on which Hilarie was to appear II G
felon's dock. ana on the morning Of that
day Clara came to me with the old visit
ful tenderness of manner, and pressing
her cold white cheek to mine. SO that L
could not see her face, she said in a slow,
sad voice, Gerald, if Hilarie dies, what
will you do z"
"Hilarie l73tst not die" I exclaimed
passionately. Unheeding my words,
Clara continued
Gould you not love nae again then,
Gerald2"
F,erlaps ny silence answered her, for
with long, sobbing sigh she stopped
and kissed my hand, but when I would
have taken hers in mine she turned from
me swiftly and hurried f.om sue room,
never looked upon her living face
again. Late that nicbt tbav hra,,ob. bar