San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1886-07-06
Thus story was commenced June IBl
THE
Master of the Mine.
BY ROBERT BUCHANAN.


tire court. For myself, | felt all my being
flooded with great joy which carried me
along in fearless mood till the end of the
proceedings. After my darling's tender proc
lamation of her belief in my innocence,
cared not what other man or woman in the
world might believe me guilty; or, indeed,
what became of my life. | was Justified in
her sight, that was enough.
After a trial which lasted only the greater
part of one day, the judge Slammed up
stenly enough, thOught-and the jury re-
tired to consider their verdict. Now, for the
first time during the proceedings, realized
my position. My life hung in the balance,
and few minutes would decide whether
was to live or die
The jury returned into the box, and the
Judge also rcappeared in his place. The fore
man stood up, and replied, in answer to the
clerk of the courts question whether was
guilty or not guilty;
I'VE are agreed that there is not sufficient
evidence TO convict the prisoner"
That is no verdict at all" cried the Judge,
sharply. You must decide one way or an
Other-guilty or not guilty."
For moment the foreman seemed dubi-
Gus, and, STOPPING to his companions, spoke
to them in whisper. Then he said:
Not guilty, my lord"
was acquitted, but the manner of the ac-
quittal was cruel enough, leaving il clear
that the moral presumption was against me,
though the evidence was inadequate. did
not quite realize this at the time, but had
bitter cause to remember it artcrward.
A little Later was standing, a free man,
in the parlOr of a small inn, whittier had
been led by John Rudd. and where / found
my aunt and uncle waiting for me. | cannot
say that it was altogether joyful meeting.
The shadow OF death seemed still upon us
all. John Rudd alone was jubilant, and in
sisted on drinking healths all round. MY
uncle, usually an ahstemiOus man, drank
eagerly, but the drink, instead of cheering
him, seemed to make him glOOmier than
ever.
1t had been arranged that my aunt and
uncle were to return in the wagon that even
ing with John Rudd, who had postponed the
hour of his departure in order to await the
result of the trial, and they urged me eager
ly to accompany them. | was in no hurry,
however, to hasten back to st. GurlOtts My
plans, as far as | was yet able to shape them,
were to leave England, perhaps working out
my passage to the colonies on some outward
bound vessel
While we were sitting together, a waiting
girl beckOned Inc out; and following her in
to another room, found Madeline waiting
to speak to me. Directly our eyes met. she
held out both her hands, and | took them
eagerly in mine. Then, for the first time,
my emotion mastered me; and, fairly sob
bling, almost sank upon my knees before
her.
II was right you see, she said tenderly.
81 knew they would never condemn you"
II owe my life to yOu," answered, In
voice chOked with tears.
She smiled Sweetly, and shook her head.
Even if it were SO, it is only doing as
have been done by; but no one ever doubted
your innocence from the first. And now, tell
me, what are you going to do? OF course,
you are returning to st. GurlOtt's?'
IL cannot tell. God help me, | can hardly
realize it all yet! 1t will never be the same
place to me again
suppose" she said, looking at me Thought
fully, suppose could persuade my cousin
to reinstate You as Oyrrseer of the mine"
He would never do that. replied; land
even were he willing. ii would he impOSSi-
bic. 1t is like you, u is like your heavenly
goodness to think of it; but it is out of the
question. l think there is but one course for
me to adopt, and that iS-tO leave England"
You must notr she cried, quickly. "FOr
all our sakes! for miner
"For your sake?" returned.
ayes, surely"
"YOu-yOu would wish me to stayY
She looked embarrassed, but almost In
staIrly replied:
Il, a LII -, II hat ON
had been driven away. st. GurlOtt's is your
hOme-why should you quit itY'
could not answer her. l could not speak
to her again of my poverty, my want OF foot
hold in the world. | could not remind her
that all l cared for in England was her
friendship and sweet cOmpaniOnship, which
knew, alas! could not long be mine. But
as l looked into her face, and thought OF the
hopeless distance between u.s. there ran
through my brain the words of the beautiful
old song:
"Altho' thou maun never be mine,
Altho' even hope Is denied,
'Tis sweetcr for thee dcspuiring
Than aught in the world bCsideP
After little space she spoke again:
whether you return there or not, at least
you will let me help you"
Help me? Have you not done sO-ah,
far more than OBSERVER
But am rich, while you are poor"
mot so poor as that" answered, eagerly,
mot so poor that | wOsld take money even
from your hand. Aldo not ask me! To
deny you anything gives me pain, but let me
keep my independence-all that my ill-fort-
une has left me In the world"
promise me at least one thing"
yes"
Not to depart from England without let
ting me knOw-withOut seeing me again."
"I'll promise that freely. Then yOu-you
will permit me to see you once mOre?'
She smiled her answer. After few more
words, she held out her hand and said
Goodbye" walked with her to the inn
door.
my cousin is waiting for Inc in the mark
et-place," she said. "He is going to drive
me back to Redruth House."
As she spoke, George Redruth himself ap-
peared, turning the corner of the street in
by pair of fine bays. He came up at
walk, and directly his eyes fell upon US, his
face grew black as thunder.
He pulled up, while the groom sprung
down and went to the horses heads.
81 couldn't think where you'd got top he
cried. 81 have been waiting for the last half
hour"
81 came to speak to Mr.. Trelawney," re-
piled Madeline, quietly, land to congratulate
him on his acquittal."
80 it seems Well, we've long drive be-
fore us, and it's time we were off"
He did not even look at me until Just as /
had assisted Madeline to her place by his
side, when our eyes met and saw in his
face an expression of merciless jealousy and
H. \ he %