Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1886-08-31

afternoon, when he was discovered niolnS
In the wood five or six miles from the
barracks, with the sentry's gun IN MS
hand-stark mad There was trial,
which resulted in Capt. Mackenzle's de-
tention during her majesty's pleasure;
but he only lived little more than Q
year after his transference 70 the
county asylum, where Clare VS.
tied him every week. He never recovered
from that sLock and the exposure OF ina.
night He sunk in a state of melancholy
madness in which his nights were haunted
by horrible dreams-always acting over
again that struggle for the gun with the
sentry-always shooting him and seeing
him fall. shot through the brain-not one
sentry but 100 sentries-tin he woke in an
agony, STEPPED in cold sweat which he mis-
took for blood He used to tell Glare these
dreams-with an awfuIy graphic power
which tortured her. He became singulariy
mild in those days-driveling and imbecile
In his lunacy, save when he was excited oy
the thought of those nightly visions. Clare
asked his keeper if he had those dreadful
dreams every night, and the man told her
he had never known night to go by With
out his being awakened by that cry OF nor
ror-@the sentry" Death came at last, by
inches, a gradual extinction OF mind and
BODY. Dissolution in its most painful
form"
what martyrdom for wife!"
ayes, veritable martyrdom; but her
sorrows were not over. She was LETT
poorly off, with one child, her boy, her
comfort and consolation in the earlier
years of his life. but already, at syears
old, trouble and anxiety. The child was
rebellious, difficult, fltful, alarmingly like
his father in person and disposition.
Clare's mother was dead, and she stood
alone in the world She dropped the name
of Mackenzie, and called herself Stuart.
She went to quiet little inland watering
place in Mid-Wales, and devoted herself to
her boy. gave up her whole life to the task
of training him until it should be time Tor
him to go to public school. Her own
education had been carried farther than
the average standard by her conscientious
German governess, and she was able to
prepare her boy for Rugby. She made up
her mind that he should not be a soldier.
She wanted to shield him from the tempta-
lions of military life He went to Rugby.
she pinching herself to provide the ex-
penses of his maintenance there; and he
was expelled in the second year. That
was a crushing blow. Then he told her
set his heart upon being soldier, and she
had better send him to an army coach to
prepare for Woolwich. That profession,
and no other, would he work for. She
was firm, and the boy was sullen. If he
was not to go into the army, he would do
nothing He idied away his life in the lit
tie Welsh settlement, amusing himself
with any sport that came within his reach
fishing shooting a days hunting now
and again-always trouble and an ex-
pense a care and a grief to the poor
mother. But the worst was to come. Be-
fore his 18th birthday she had discovered
the hereditary faint. Her son was an In
cipient drunkard. She moved heaven and
earth to get him into new surroundings,
more active life. She was told by medt-
cal wiseacre that new country, an open
air life would cure him; and after infinite
trouble she shipped him off to Queensland,
with introductions which provided for his
being decently placed at a sheep-farmer's
when he got there. She heard from him
once after his arrival, letter written in
good spirits, full of sanguine ideas of sue
cess in his new career. And then followed
a silence which has never been broken;
but in the account of the wreck of the Fri
King, bound from Brisbane to London,
there was in the list of passengers lost
young man called Stuart, travelling alone,
whose description, obtained by Clare from
the Brisbane agent, corresponded very
fairly with that of her son, so it is more
than probable that the sea has closed over
Valentine Stuart"
"Let US hope it is So" said the colonel,
cheerily, "a young man with those pro-
clivities could never be anything but a
scourge to his mother. For your sake, and
for Lady Darnel's, hope the youth found
a watery grave. There is something very
terrible in the idea of death when il takes
away some one we love; but there is
something uncommonly comfortable in
the idea of death when it removes some
one we want to get rid of" added the colo
nel philosophically.
at was at Torquay that met my wife,"
continued Sir Allan. II went there after
month with the Exmoor hounds, for
few days visit to an old friend of my
fathers, vicar of one of the outlying par.
ishes, man who remembered Hurrell
Froude and the days of the Oxford Tracts
He had known Clare from her childhood,
had prepared her for confirmation, and
had married her to the man who blighted
her life. heard the sad story from him
and compassion prepared my heart for
loving her. In any case, l fell in love
with her at first sight; and l did not leave
Torquay till had won her I am bold
enough to believe that her heart was
mine almost from the beginning; but
she was constrained by unselfish fears for
my welfare and it was with difficulty !
obtained her consent to be my wife with
as little delay as possible. She feared the
scandal that might arise in my neighbor-
hood If once that terrible story of her first
husband got wind; she reminded me of the
uncertainty surrounding her sons fate,
and the possibility that he was still living,
and might be a burden and disgrace to me
in the future. told her that these things
were trities-feathers when weighed in the
scale against the gold of true love In a
word, l overruled all her objections,
laughed her fears to scorn and in six
weeks after our first meeting the dear old
vicar married u.s. and we started in the
dull gray November weather for our
honeymoon tour across the Cornish moors.
and along the wild sea coast from Tintagel
to the Lizard. Oh, those happy days in the
little inn at the Lands End beside the
roaring Atlanticl alone, remote from the
world and its ways. ] shall never forget
the sweetness, the perfect confidence and
love of that time. 1t has grown and
strengthened since then-it will go on in
creasing till die"
And there has been no cloud on your
happiness at Darnel''
"NOne, or only the slightest summer
clouds, hardly worth talking about. My