The Milan exchange. (Milan, Gibson County, Tenn.) 1874-1978, 1882-01-07

Il
sensible upon the ground. in the first
and only swoon that her vigorous ma
/ ture had ever known.
! We did not return to Ravenswood
that night, rs may well be imagined. \
detachment of the Waterdale police was
sent by the local authorities to take
charge of the house and its contents.
and also to superintend the removal of
the corpse of poor old Bridget. My
aunt and | took refuge at the Waterdale
| Hotel, where we remained to await the
response to the telegram that was at
once dispatched to her oldest son, who
was lawyer in extensive practice in
New York. But it was many days be,
fore her nerves had so far recovered
their tone as to permit of her giving mo
a detailed account of all that had taken
| place on that memorable evening. Her
story, when she did tell it, ran as fol-
| lows:
"When | left you, Lizzie, to 90 up
J stairs and make some changes in my
! dress, had no light, as you may r>mem-
! Der. When reached my dressing-room
l was unable to find the candle and
matches-some one had displaced them;
| but as the moon was shining very bright
| " l contrived to wash my hands and
change my collar without ringing for a
| light, as had at first intended. Then
| started to come down stairs, feeling
rather surprised at finding that Victor
had not lighted the hall lamp; but | at
tributed his negligence to the fact that
he had had SO much extra work to at
tend to. When l reached the foot OF
the stairs | became aware of voices in
the buffers pantry-the voices of sew
eral men, talking in a sort of half whis-
! per. l was startled, and | paused to
listen, struck at once with the idea that
thieves had gained admission to the
| house. Standing on the mat at the foot
of the staircase l could hear every word
that they said. They were completing
their arrangements to murder you and
me, Lizzie, and to carry off the silver.
| distinctly recognized Victor's voice,
and his peculiar foreign pronunciation.
His confederates (there were two of
them, so far as | could make out) were
anxious to finish up the job at once
as one of them phrased it; but Victor
opposed it, The house was too near
the road, he declared; there might be
screaming, and any unusual noise might
be heard by some passer-by. Best
wait till the women are sound asleep
he urged, in their bedrooms, and then
| the matter could be settled without any
cided, according to his suggestions.
AT this stage in their conference l
quilted my post and slipped noiselessly
upstairs, my intention being to awaken
Bridget, and to send her out of the
house through one of the front drawing
room windows, to go and seek for help,
while the villains were still plotting in
the pantry. l reached her room and
entered. Bridget said, softly. But
receiving no answer, 1 thought she was
still sleeping, and l approached the bed.
The moonlight, shining full upon the
pillow, revealed to me the face that rest
ed on tit was the face of a corpse.
"Why did not lose consciousness at
that dreadful sight 1 cannot compre-
bend; but Providence seemed to sustain
my strength then, as afterwards. Idrew
near and investigated the cause of the
poor creatures death. 1t was not far
to seek. Around her neck was tightly
twisted a gaily-colored silk handker-
chief, one of half-dozen that l had my
self given to Victor. stole from the
room, heart-sick, and well-nigh despair
ing. There we were, two helpless wom-
en-, shut up in the house with a band
of assassins, and with no avenue of
escape at hand; for, of course, our
movements would be'watched, and any
betrayal of our consciousness of dan
ger would be followed by our instant
murder.
"And then, Lizzie, as if by inspira-
ton, there flashed across my brain the
idea of the scheme that afterward so
fully succeeded-the story of Caroline
Vests purposed arrival with her cele-
brated diamonds. The bait proved ir-
resistible to the villains, or rather to
their master-spirit, Victor, as 1 had
hoped and intended. Only one more
4 woman to put to death. Jewels, valued
at over fifty thousand dollars, would be
the reward of that extra murder. But
can you realize what agony of mind
endured when you talked of refusing to
accompany me to the stationP"
My story is ended. Victor Ducange
was tried and condemned for the muir
der he had committed. His confeder-
ates escaped capture, having probably
been ON the watch for the return of the
carriage, and so were warned of the ap-
proach of the police.
! My aunt has sold Ravenswood, and
now lives in New York, with burglar
alarm in her bedroom and a brace of
! loaded revolvers always within her
reach. There are silver threads in her
thick, soft hair, that was so lately as
dark as ravens wing; and her once
strong nerves have never, l think, re-
gained their tone since those terrible
hours, from whose impending peril we