Lancaster daily intelligencer. [volume] (Lancaster, Pa.) 1864-1928, 1888-03-21
ro,nna wnat naa become OF tnar conres-

rntfand wnat nad become OF tnar conres-
sion.
''Ida took possession Of It," he said,
"and have not seen it from that moment
to this.v
''why did you not come forward and
make this public'" cried.
Because" was his reply, 'Ida told me
that, II what we had done became known,
nothing could save us from the hangman
''Did she obtain possession Of the forged
ncceptances!''
''Ycs.n
''How was II that the tumbler from
which the fatal draught was taken was on
the mantel shelfr'
''Ida placed it there"
1t was enough. The entire facts Of this
mysterious case were clear to me. re-
quired nothing more to prove Edward
Layton's innocence that tho possession Of
the document written almost In her death
throes by the unhappy wife.
unlocked the door and called up Fow-
Ter. Briefly and swiftly I told him what
was necessary, and said It was not at all
improbable that this document was in Ida
scarcely uttered the words before rat
tat-tat came at the street door.
',It is shel'' cried Eastace.
"Whos' asked, In great excitement.
"Ida, he replied.
ut serves our turn exactly, SIR" NUT
tered Fowler to me, and then addressing
Eustace, he said: SIS that your bed.
roomr pointing to communicating
door.
"Yes,o
"We will 60 In there. Let the lady
come up"
We disappeared, leaving the communi-
eating door partially open, and the next
minute / heard Ida Whites voice.
"Cursed luckr' she cried. give lost
GSj to-day. 1 tell you whnt it is, Eus-
tace-if we can't wheedle your old gov
ernor into forgiving us after we are mar
fied, we shall have to turn bookmakers
ourselves. You shall take the bets, and I
will do the clerking. It will lp a novelty.
and we shall make pots of money"
Eustace did not reply.
"Why don't you speak," she continued,
"Are you struck dumbf'
Then came Eustace's voice, like the cry
OF despairing soul:
''You are devill Why have You
driven me to thisf ! hate you, hate you,
hate you! You fiend, you have killed my
sisterr'
Fowler did not wait for me to act. He
seized me by the arm and pulled me after
him into the room.
"What'' screamed Idas "you twor'
"Yes, said Fowler--and in the midst
OF my own excitement could not avoid
observing the expression Of calm satisfac-
tion on his face--'we two,"
What are you here for''
"For reasons, Ida White.n replied
Fowler, (which may or may not bo
fatal to yourself. Follow what I am
about to say. We have here q con-
iession from this young gentleman which,
II true-that Is, ifit can be proved by doc
umentary cvidence-wiu bring undoubted
disgrace upon You, but neither death by
the hangman's hands nor penal seryitudo
for life."
She recoiled, and echoed
death! Penal seryitude for life"
at Is exactly as have said. Death by
the hangmans hands or penal servitude
for life. All is known. Your theft of the
ulster at Prevosts restaurant, and every
thing else. Your liberty at this moment
rests upon a written document. If it
never existed, or if you have destroyed it,
you are doomed. If it exists you arc
saved.n
"You are madmanr' she cried, but
ner face was blanched and her figure ex-
pressed the most abject terror.
Il am an officer of the law" said Fow-
Ter. "Now do you understand? II the
confession written by Mrs. Edward lay
ton, and which, after her death, you took
from the table by her bedside, is in exist
ence, you have nothing to fear. II it is
not you are lost woman. No words, no
parleying! 1t is life or death for youi
The moment has come. Decide. Which
way'"
Utterly overpowered, Ida White replied
with hands tramblipUly rnisp1 nc If for