Democratic messenger. [volume] (Snow Hill, Md.) 1869-1973, 1881-05-28

y
workhouse, and Tiburce Menseau, be-
fore entering, had his own little treasure
to cacher. He hid it high above door
jamb in the broken wall of the very
workhouse he slept in. The wall looked
on bare fields at the edge of the country
town, and the little treasure was nothing
but small bunch of skeleton keys,
necessary, perhaps, for some future
operation Tiburce may have had in
mind.
CHAPTER ".
When Tiburce Menseau opened the
stolen packet he found nothing but a
tiny key and little scrap of paper
folded round it. But the paper bore an
inscription
"My dear Nell--If Walter has been
true to you, you will know what to do
when you receive this package. The
key fits box. The box will be found
in the stable wall, five bricks from the
fireplace in the left side, and six bricks
from the floor. mean, of course, the
stable at Ashford Warren. If Walter
has been true, you can have my blessing
from the grave and marry him. am
dead more than fortnight when you
get this. Poverty is a great and true
touchstone. You will know your friends
by this time. I gave bill of sale to
test Walter. Your dead Uncle,
"JoHN LAUNcEsToN BARCLAY.
What romance beyond his ken lay here
troubled Tiburce Menseau little. He
could weave his own romance out of the
letter, and it even more than the key it
self. was the key to wealth. The pos
session of this scrap of paper and the
key put heart into his scoundrel body,
and he walked like new man. He be-
gan to make inquiries as to the where
abouts of Ashford Warren, but for a
week or two he wandered off ON false
scents, and being at last set on the right
track by passing drover, he struggled
on with his thievish fingers itching all
the way to be at the box of which he
held the key. John Jones's cry of rage
at losing the key had such tone of
misery and trouble in it that some men,
remembering it, might have found its
echoes vexing. Tiburce went untroubled
on that score.
Inquiries, carefully directed, led him
to Ashford Warren. Renewed inquir-
les, carefully directed, led him to the
fact that a Mr.. Barclay had died there
about month ago five weeks maybe
at lonely house long way from the
village. Other inquiries led him to the
house itself. He went by night with a
tallow candle and a box of matches in
his pocket. He had walked about the
lonely place by day and had ascertained
that it was untenanted, but to his dismay
had seen no sign of anything that looked
like stable. Now he prowled round
the place III the dark, and having tried
two doors and found them locked, he
pulled out from his pocket his little
rusted bundle of skeleton keys, and
stealthiiy went through the bare and
empty rooms. Coming on third door,
hitherto untried, he set his skeleton key
to the lock and entered. The air of the
room was damp and musty, and there
was scent of old straw in it. He
closed the door, Lit match, and looked
round. He saw brick floor and bare
walls, and ceiling with rough white
washed cross-beams. On one wall the
remnants of a rack and manger, a rusted
chain still trailing in broken bits of rot
ten straw, and facing these fragments a
wide fireplace without a CRATE. High
above the door was an unglaZed barred
window, covered by shutter which
closed from the outside. The thief lit
his candle, locked the door, and made
survey. It was easy to see that the wide
fireplace never held fire, for the white
wash on the bricks within its shaft bore
49,, &c 10 I.r1t
yellow with old rains. Looking up it
he could see the sky, almost light in con-
trast with the darkness of the chimney.
The shaft had been left uncompleted,
and rose to height of not more than
ten feet from the ground. A bar crossed
it near the top, looking thin and spidery
against the dull night sky. One glance
showed this way of escape in case of
any chance discovery. Tiburce was
coward, but he kept his wits about him
in spite of the awful beating of his
heart. "Five bricks from the fireplace
on the left side, and six bricks from the
floor" There was no mark of removal
there. The whitewash was old and
soiled, and seemed to have been undis-
turbed for at least year or two. To
the wooden trough, which had once
served as manger, hung scraps of
broken hoop-iron which had bound the
rough boards together. With one of
these scraps Tiburce went to work, and
bit by bit he scratched away the sandy,
yielding mortar until the brick was
loosened and could be drawn away. To
sharp wits like those of Tiburce Men
seau there were signs enough of former
removal when once the scratching had
carried him an inch deep. 1t was evl-
dent that the brick had not been built
into the wall as it then stood, and his
heart beat with a pulsation more and
more terrible as the obstacle yielded, and
he peered into the hollow. He pushed
in his hand almost as fearsomely as if he
had known of the presence of a rattle
snake there, and his fingers encountered
q cold, smooth surface. The Box.
His heart gave one awful leap, and
almost stopped. The sweat stood on
his forehead in great beads. He was
faint and giddy with excitement, but
recovering himself he began to tear
away the bricks surrounding the hollow
already made. They came down easily,
the sandy mortar having no cohesion in
it, and now he gripped the box and held
it with trembling hands upon the floor,
and with greedy eyes knelt over it, pant
ing and sweating and quaking, like the
triumphing, cowardly, hungry, way
worn thief he was. His hand shook SO
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