The Indianapolis journal., 1885-06-14
/" Give me his kew ,

" tive me his. Key
at was found that he had taken his key; but
his room was opened with master key.
That is my friends dispatch box / said.
recognizing the property at once.
ut was locked The officer forced it. Joe's
letters, pocket book. Kates letters, paper knife,
writing pads. portraits 1t seemed to me that
Joe must be here. / could not realize when
looking at these familiar things. the possibility
OF the crime they now represented.
I'VE left the room; locked the door. The de-
tective posted himself in the room opposite.
loitered in the hail. My wife remained in her room.
The hotel clerk was to look straight at me when
twenty five came n Presently gentleman,
Joes height and build, came in. The clerk
looked at me. looked at the stranger. He
wore spectacles, and had long grey hair fol-
lowed him He went into No. %. | went into
the room opposite.
1T is wig then,' said the detective. You
bet the English papers have scared him. Come
follow me-
'.The detective took revolver from his pock-
ct, knocked at the door, walked in, quietly con-
fronted his man, and, presenting the revolver at
his head, said: John Needham, put up your
hands
''The wretched man was not afraid of death,
as was afterwards shown. But he die not put
up his hands. He staggered and clutched chair
for support In an instant the detective slipped
his hand beneath his coat and took away a re-
volver which he handed to me, and the next
moment he had passed his hand over all the
wretched creatures pockets.
"That's all right; don't want you to hurt
yourself; guess we've surprised you. Now. sir,
take off your wig so that your friend may recog-
nize you
'"The officer did not wait for his instructions
to be carried out-he removed the wig, and then,
oh, my dear Wood, it was my turn to stagger;
the man before me was cruel likeness of our
dear Joe. If he had not attempted to disguise
himself If we had met in the ordinary course of
events, / can imagine myself being deceived.
" is it Joseph NorburyP the detective asked.
% 1T is strangely like and unlike him., | said.
"As spoke the wretch seemed to pull himself
together, at which the detective moved towards
''Don't be afraid, SIR he said; Il am your
prisoner, and will not attempt to run away
1.-THE voice of our dear fellow-the voice, as
have heard it in sorrowful moments.
" I am John Needham, and am sorry you did
not shoot me. Let me make the last reparation
that is in my power-a full confession of my
guilt, the last confession of a miserably guilty
wretch
"tWel guess that will keep for the present,
said the detective. Come with me-
" Give me leave a moment he said rising; it
is the last favor | ask, and the information
can give you will save you trouble and further
sorrow.'
''The voice, the manner now that ne was
calm, almost the look of our dear joel
May / ask who this gentleman isY
81 am Richard Woodville,' said
HE shuddered
i'll your hands this locket, he said suddenly
thrusting his hand into his breast pocket and
doing so with an air of authority as the detec-
tive was about to interpose. But it was not
locket He had trpped his capitor The next
| moment he had rushed to the other end of the
room, and before the officer could seize him he
had gulped down carefully calculated dose of
prussc acid
I'VE took his dying deposition, and they
buried him with the ignominy that belongs to the
old English law The papers inclosed will give
you the details, and also send you two Canadian
journals that deal with the matter in extenso
"Kate bears up nobly, with womany fortitude,
and look to you, dear friend, to help me to give
her the consolation such it is, of the removal
of our dear beloved dead to the silent compan-
ionship of the woman he loved and mourned.
My dear Kate has been watching me with tear
full eyes while have been writing this terrible
| record, now and then gathering up to lay her
hand upon my head and to say, Poor Dick,
what trouble have brought upon you, as if she
blamed herself for being wiser than any of us.
Ii it We're not for keeping myself up to help her
to bear her woe, feel as if could fling myself
upon the floor and cry like a child.
"God bless you, my dear Wood, and believe
me to be, your devoted friend,
RICHARD WooDvILLE."
One soft, dreamy August day there was a
fresh smell of newly-turned turf in the little
church yard of Wyedale, and they laid the body
of Joseph Norbury by the side of his dead love.
The dews of heaven fell there, and the seasons
came and went, and the roses grew red and
white by the column upon which the two names
were inscribed. Time was very gentle with
everybody and with everything at Wyedale and
is to this day. The gray hairs of Kate and Dick
are but the first frosts OF hale and hearty win
ter, tempered with the sunny laugh of
youth and hope; for a cluster of boys and
girls gather about them, and call
them father and mother. The simple joys of
their children send their own thoughts back to
the springtime of life, before the shadow of
death had withered any of it's buds and bios
SONS. All Of the countryside knows of the
tragedy in their history. During several years
they only gave token of their knowledge by the
fresh flowers they laid upon the grave at the
foot of the white pillar; but now the old people
speak to Kate andNDick of the dear fellow they
lost so sadly, and sort of pious mystery and
awe in the general mind of the country folk at
taches to the gentle character of Mrs Joseph
Norbury, who saw visions that were true in the
days that are past and gone
THE END
A Meteor at Dusk.
Behold! one turns, with wind blown golden head,
backward glance to where the feasters stand