Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1882-01-24
mes. in their eyes, binding them to its

ness in their eyes, binding them 10 ITS
identity.
Young Lente leaves no stone unturned
to bring the murderer to his just deserts;
so at last Monroe finds himself in danger
of arrest. He consulis his lawyers. They
advise full and immediate confession.
Monroe refuses to follow their advice,
but prefers to trust to the uncertainty of
the law. and the law, handled by clever,
unprincipled men, proves wondrous mer-
ciful.
He is taken to the Tombs, confined in
narrow cell, and comforted by Ameri-
cans at large. Robert Monroe the MUIR
derer finds himself far greater person
age than Robert Monroe the quiet citizen.
His cell blooms with flowers men fur
nish him with the latest papers and the
best cigars women comfort him, and be-
moan his fate. All humanity seems
leagued against Justice. He finds him
self a hero, and rather likes the notori-
ETY..
The verdict first given is manslaugh-
ter in the second degree. Exceptions
are made to certain rulings by the judge.
Then follows a reprieve, and another
trial. MonIoe's lawyers are clever men
strangely clever men. They prove TO
the satisfaction of the jury that at the
time of the murder the accused was suf-
fering under temporary insanity.
The verdict is given in accordance with
the cunningly devised defence, and Mon
roe is SC, at liberty, and is free to become
temporarily insane again whenever he
may deem it best.
The verdict banged by the neck till
dead seems obsolete" exclaims young
Len'e, with righteous indignation, laying
aside the papers, in which Monroe's guilt
has been lessened step by step into inno-
cence. A man seems able to commit
any crime under our present management
and escape otfree. IL Is the fault OF
the law or the lawyers, or yet again Of
the people, that sin becomes innocence,
and crime virtue
cannot youch for the truth Of the
above. but tell the story as it was told
to me.
The haunted house still stands. Bats
and owls make their home beneath the
caves. and rats run riot everywhere but
the ghost Of to-day is a wreck from the
ghosts of the past.
Friends showed me through the haunt
ed house. Ny eyes filed as we watched
the young faced woman with snow-white
hair walk resilessly to and fro. Her
eyes looked through and beyond me, and
saw visions could no; see. Her hands
parted the long grass as she smiled down
at the face she imagined smiling up at
hers-the face that lay cold and silent in
the grave.
It was a strange, sad scene. The ce-
dar. walled in the night wind, the grass
rus,led ftfully, and the branches Of the
grand old elms sobbed dismally over her
head. Back and forth, back and forth,
she paced, mu,tering Clifford Landsmere
name.
saw her pause, place her hand above
her ear, and stand in an attitude of IN
tense expectation. Her eyes deepened,
darkened, frightened; a smile gradually
oyerspread her features, till her whole
face was radiant with a glory not Of
earth.
What do you hear asked her,
gently.
=" hear him. she answered, without
turning her head.
She heard the voice Of her lover calling
her from above.
To-day the bells are tolling in Lands
mere town-tolling May Goodwin $ hap
piness. A long procession is even now
winding among the hills, carrying May
Goodwin to the side of her lover and a
man who sold his soul to win her love
watches the coffin lowered out OF sight,
knowing his crime was useless. lie has
blackened his name for nothing. For
there is one Judge who outrules all Judges,
and that Judge has condemned Robert
Monroe.
The bells are tolling on earth, but |
think they must be ringing in heaven, for
May Goodwin and Clifford Landsmere
rest side by side.