Martinsburg independent. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1875-1900, 1886-02-06

las 1t something were calling me
over to that door. 1t seemed as If
all my bodily strength had left me,
and as if that thing which was call
ing me had given me superhuman
strength to obey it. rose up al
most without knowing it and glided
towards the door with feeling that
/ was being carried there. At the
door | stopped, and | think that
there one of the men came to lead
me away. But | did not see him !;
there was only one thing in the
room that | could discern That
was my poor father. He was lean
ing back in his chair, and over his
white jacket there seemed to be the
stain Of something red. Merciful
heaven. That something rel had
dripped down to the floor and form
ed little pool there. And then it
seemed that the power that had
brought me there forsook me, and |
knew no more.'
thought, when heard all about
the awful affair that day, that it was
a terrible time for poor Mercy Gray.
But it was not long before / found
there was something much worse
in store for her than that. Her IA
Their, sitting in his mill, with several
heaps of coin beside him, had been
foully murdered. From the appear
ance of the money it had not been
disturbed, and the murderer must
have escaped from the door, which
| he had locked behind him. And the
people of Briertown, finding not the
least clue to the murderer, actually
began to suspect Mercy Gray. An
angel from heaven would have done
such deed if she did it, but / don't
believe an angel could have viewed
with the calmness that she did two
things they had found in her bed
room, and which they showed to
her. One was blood-stained knife,
which had been flung under her bed
and the other the key of the door of
the old mill, which they found Sc
GREETED in her little bureau. But as
all reasonable people could see that
the murderer might have thrown
them there in order to attach the
blame to Mercy, they would never
have been enough to convict her.
1t was the testimony Of my own
daughter, Mary, and another woman
that brought along with the other
the terrible verdict of Guilty"
Oh, how shall / forget the moment
| when that awful verdict was render
ed ! The trial had been held in
larger and neighboring town, and
the court was crowed with sympa-
thetic people. / was in tears all
through it, and could see nobody in
the room but that sweet and heaven
ly face in the prisoners box, until
my daughter was brought upon the
witness-stand. Now, Mary was mar
ried and lived away from me, and it
happened that | had not heard that
she had any testimony to give. But
when / saw her there / was almost
sure that she was about to give some
! evidence in the prisoners favor.
She and Mercy had always been
great friends together. So | dried
my tears and listened to her; but
fate, it seemed, was swinging the
evidence all the other way.
81 give my testimony" said my
daughter, against my dear friend
Mercy Gray, with the fervent hope
that may have been dreaming or
out Of my mind when | saw what !
did; but although this is so, feel
as if, were / not to tell it, the ghost
of that old man would haunt me,
and / should ever feel guilty and
miserable. This is my testimony:
On the night of the murder, or rath-
er, in the early morning, / awoke
and found the bright moonbeams