The clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1883-1888, 1886-09-08
CHAPTER xxi
MADELINE PROVES A FRIEND.

1 NuAkSd anu Stt&R hl TIE IWR police
men who had brought me over. They gave
me Observation-Disclosures. which did not
touch, and glass of wine, which drank of
eagerly.
| Ever since my arrival at the house. / had
been looking eagerly for some sign of Made
line Graham; but she had not Appeared
While / sat apart, however, George Redruth
entered the room, and after glancing at me
| with q thoughO a certain compassion. ad-
dressed me.
This is a bad business. Trelawney.'' he
said, looking very pale and agitated.
glanced at him. but made no reply.
Let me tell you, however" he continued.
''that ugly as the evidence looks against YOU.
l hope that you'll succeed in proving your
innocence at the trial haven't much cause
to love you, and poor johnson had still less:
but upon my word, l believe you incapable
! of such crime as this"
Thank you, sr," replied, trembling, for
could have borne his anger or indifference
better than his sympathy. You at least do
ne that justieev'
He nodded assent and was about to say
something more, when there was the rustic
of dress behind him. and with a quick start,
and sharp pain at the heart. saw Made
line standing in the room. The sight of her
was almost more than l could bear; l shook
like leaf, and my eyes filled with tears.
The next moment she stepped forward with
an eager cry of recognition, and both hands
outreaehing. Then, seeing that was hand
cutted she uttered another cry-of grief and
pain.
'Madeliner' cried her cousin, warningy;
| but she paid no attention. l had turned my
| head away. too ashamed to meet her gaze,
but felt rather than saw, that she was gaz-
ing tenderly into my face.
When she spoke, her voice was broken and
fearful.
MIR. Trelawneyl may | speak 10 youf
May tell you how my heart aches and
bleeds for you IN your great trouble? May
assure you how deeply l believe-as all who
know you must believe-in your innocence
of such a crime?'
/ turned my head and looked at her; my
head swan, and the tears so blinded me that
| | could not see her.
God bless you for saving thatr' l mur-
INJURED; and as | spoke she lifted my two
bound hands, and held them gently in her
own.
Il could not believe that any one would
| think it possible" she said Il would have
come before, but waited, expecting to see
| you set at liberty. But now | hear you are
TO be put upon your trial! An, do not fear
| Have couTagel Your innocence will be
| proved. and you will soon be a free man."
perhaps" | answered; but whether or
not, it is something to know that my inno-
| cence is believed IN by lJoltp'
How could l doubt il? Dear Mr.. Tire
| iawney, l know you better even than you
know yourself. No proof, however terrible,
| could shake my faith in one whom l know
to be the bravest and best of men; one who
is incapable of any baseneSs, one to whom,
/ remember, owe my life
She turned to Redruth, who was looking
on, ! thought, rather uneasily.
''And my cousin is equally certain that you
are falsely accused. George, speak to him!
| tell himp
l looked at George Redruth; his brow was
clouded, and his expression far less cordial
than it had previously been.
Il have already told Trelawney what i
| think on the subject Nevertheless the evil
dence is ugly, as he is aware"
But you k1lolO he is nnocentv cried Made
| line.
Il hope So Whoever took poor JOhnson's
life was miserable and ruffianly coward,
well deserving the gallows; and can't fancy
that Trelawney, in spite of his violent tenn
per- is anything of the kind"
There was something in his manner now,
which aroused all the angry blood within
me. His old superciliousness had returned,
and the compassion in his eyes had changed
to hard dislike and suspicion. l could not
trust myself to answer him, but turning TO
the police officers, who sat by, L cried:
''How long am to remain here? Take me
! awayI For Gods sake take me away.
"Au right" replied one Of them. ''The
, traps at the door"
rose to my feet and them setting my lips
firm to conquer my agitation, turned again
; to Madeline.
"Don't mind M, Miss Graham | shall
come through this trouble right enough, per-
haps; and whatever happens, sha'n't for
get your goodness. | cared for no ones
good opinionsbut yours. i am not the first
! innocent man, by many, who has had to face
an unjust accusation, and answer it with his
| life; and what you have said to me will give
| me courage, perhaps, to bear the sorrow
| that's to eomer'
Before | realized what she was doing, she
| had taken my hands again, had raised them
to her lips, and kissed them.
Don't! don'tr' L cried, half sobbing. 81
can't bear it, Here, lads. take me awayr'
use him kindly" she cried. weeping. and
addressing the officers Remember, he is a
gentleman, and falsely accused"
Don't be afraid my lady," said the man
VINO had previously spoken. 'We'll look
after him"
: think that though we part now, shall be
! idle. / am rich, remember, and whatever
! | money can do for your defense shall be done
. by me. 1t is poor return, indeed, for the
! life you gave me! Keep good heartl Think
that you have friends working for you, pray
ing for youi Think that the happy time will
come when you will be free again to return
!, to those you love, who love you, and who
: will love you the better for trouble bravely
borneF
: In rapture OF that moment, should have
. caught her in my arms, but was helpless,
> and perhaps it was better so. Gently, but
firmly, the officers led me from the room, and
' along the passage to the door, where the dog
{ cart was waiting. There was a crowd about
: the doOrsteps, and when / appeared there
was a sympathetic murmur
U The officers pushed me through the groups,
a and mounted TO my seat in the trap Then
/ heard a wild cry, and saw my aunt, who
I rushed forward reaching up her hands to
:; touch mine.
' Hugh my poor Hugh p she sobbed-
4 Don't cry, aunt" l said, forcing smile.
+ ''They don't hang innocent men in England
/ shall soon come back hoTne!"
n AT that there was faint hurrah, led by
g John Rudd. Several rough fellows from the
}, mine rushed forward, reached out their
II horny hands in honest sympathy.
1 Cheer mp, Measter Hugh, None o us be-
e lieves you killed 'uni Cheer up! Wen ha'
! you back in St Gurlott's soon"
''lss, that we willi' echoed John Rudd.
The officer had now mounted beside me;
4 and his companion, who was seated by the
e driver cried i'll a loud voice:
o ''Clear the way there Let go her head p
t The horse. freshened by rest and feed,
e bounded of, and / left the group of sympa.
e thizers behind-my poor aunt, half fainting
o supported by John Rudd. But on the door
q step under the porch stood two figures on
q which my eyes were riveted till the last
George Redruth and Madeline Graham
{, Madeline waved white handkerchief.
E. could make no sign in return, but watched
e her with streaming eyes till we entered the
u avenue, and the boughs Of the leaf1ess tree.
n blotted her from my view.
r OF that sad days business, only one mors
vivid memory remains to me. Slight anC
+ trivial as the circumstance seemed at ths
e time remembered h afterward with won
3 dering thrill.
It Our way back, like our way coming, La,
1 past the old cottage. Quitting the gates o
K the great house, and leaving the dark ave
nue. behind us, we ratified swiftly along tn
z country road. The horse, being homewarC
r bound. whirled us along at full speed; in
D, deed, as the poet has it:
"We seemed in running to devour the way
y As we approached the dear old cottage,
l craned my neck round to look at it; the mex
le moment we dashed past it; but in that me
h- ment cangtt the glimpse of a CHASTITY whit
E face looking out of one of the lower win
dows.
T 1t was the face of my uncle, John Per
d dragons As we passed, he seemed to give
y, wild start of recognition.