Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1881-02-24

was spoken, and made not the remotest al
lusion TO the affair of the watch and chain.
This was quite dlspleasmg TO Augusta
who determined to draw him out in private
as her questioning looks in public had fail
ed to produce any effect upon him. Sine
asken him to walk with her, and when they
were entirely alone began to question him.
"DId you bring back my watch and chain
Frankl" she asked.
"lour watch and chainl" was his sur
prised reply.
"'Yes, my watch and chain, which you
carried away the last time you spent the
night here
II dent know what you mean. have
not had your watch and chain. know
nothing about them."
1t was then the young lady's turn TO show
surprise and indignation.
"You surely cannot have forgotten, ]"
said she, ''that you took those articles from
the bureau in my room the last night you
staid at our house, and carried them away
with you"
''rhis is news to me, assure you.
'You had taken of your coat and boots,
sir, and doubtless supposed that you were
not observed, but | saw you plainly in the
moonlight" "
''Miss PenohYn, do you know what you
are saylnga You are accusing me of steal
ing"
81 did not believe that you meant to
steal them," she said, half sobblng. 81
supposed that you had only taken them for
joke, or perhaps for keepsake, and that
you would bring them back or make an eX
PLANTATION. But never thought that you
would deny taking them"
'Miss Penohyn, this is unbearable. To
be accused of theft, and by lady, at that,
is something new in my experience, de-
clare, upon my honor, that | did not take
your watch and chain, and that | was not
out of my room that night
"Do you really think that you can face
mo down in this waySn OHIO indignantly do
manded. / suppose you will also deny that
you came down slairs just before you took
the watch and chain, and came TO where l
was sitting on the porch, and said"
s'Some other crime" he said, perceiving
that she hesitated. 81 am not in the hui
NOR to listen to any more accusations.
Either there has been some monstrous mis-
take, or you are deliberately insulting
me-"
Cor the honor, of which you just spoke,
does not exist"
'lf you can speak to me in that strain,
Miss Penohyn, the sooner leave you the
better"
"Yes, indeed-before any more portable
property is missing"
They parted in anger, and that parting
| 81 fnlI har
mother and sister of her loss, and was at
first disposed to complain to the colonel of
Coulter's regiment, but was persuaded that
such course might bring the family into
trouble. and allowed the matter to drop.
The regiment wss soon ordered away, and she
saw no more of Frank Coulter.
1t was not until two years after the close
of the war that Frank Coulter returned to
| Virginia, aud then he came in a peaceful
capacity of an agent or drummer for a
| New York dry-goods house. The Peno-
hyns had become comparatively poor, and
the family mansion was turned into tav-
ern, which was kept by the son, Henry,
who had come out of the war with the loss
of an arm.
At the tavern Frank Coulter stopped to
pass the night. There was no other place
to 60 to, and perhaps he would not have
made another choice if he had had the
chance, as he was neither physical nor a
moral coward.
Augusta Penohyn had told her brother
the story of the loss of her watch and chain.
Henry informed her Of Coulter's arrival,
and she satisfied herself, without being seen
by him, that he was the same man who
had been so strangely proven unworthy Of
her love.
Then they consulted together to decide
upon what should be done. Henry was for
his immediate arrest, saying that he could
be punished for his crime, as he ought to
be under the laws Of Virginia; but Angus
ia, who had not quite list her love for the
recreant, was unwilling to go to that ex-
treme. Henry finally resolved that he
would have an interview with Coulter in
the morning, and press him closely on the
matter.
The brother and sister were still seated
on the porch, discussing this question,
when the man of whom they had been
speaking came down stairs. He had retir-
ed to his room at an early hour, and now
he came down bare-headed, in his shirt
sleeves and his stocking-feet, just as he had
done on the night which witnessed the cpl
sode of the watch and chain. The moon
shone just as it did then, its light filtered
through the vines that nearly enclosed the
porch.
''This is strange" said Henry, as Coul-
ter stepped off the porch. ''Stay where
you are, Augusta, and will follow him, D
Looking straight ahead, as if staring at
vacancy, Frank Coulter walked out into
the road, and turned down lane that led
to the stable, cautiously followed by Henry
PenohYn.
At the stable he stopped, and dug under
a corner. Then he returned to the house,
closely followed by Henry. AS he stepped
UP on the porch a watch and chain was
plainly visible in his hand.
Henry held up his hand warningly to
Augusta as she was about to rise from her
chair.
''Be quiet, he said, II understand il
now."