Waterbury evening Democrat., 1888-12-24

came even more wealthy than had been, and was looked up to and respected by-my fellow citizens. When my dear daughter Margaret was born, I felt that my cup of happiness was full, but suddenly received Q disagreeable reminder of the past. Rossana's mother made her appearance one day-a disreputable looking creature, smelling of gin, and in whom I could not recognize the respectfully dressed woman who used to ac- company Rossana to the theatre She had spent long ago all the money had given her, and sank lower and lower, until she now lived in a slum off Little Bourke street. I made inquiries after the child, and she told me it was dead Rosanna had not taken it to England with her, but had left it in her mothers charge, and, no doubt, neglect and want of proper nourish- ment was the cause of its death. There now seemed to be no link to bind me to the past with thaaexception of the old bag, who knew nothing about the marriage. I did not at tempt to undeceive her, but agreed to allow her enough to live on if she promised never to trouble mo again, and to keep quiet about everything which had reference to my con- nection with her daughter. She promised readily enough, and went back to her squalid dwelling in the sluns, where, for all I know, she still lives, as money has been paid to her regularly every month by my so- hcitors. I heard nothing more about the matter, and now felt quite satisfied that I had heard the last of Rosanna. AS years rolled on things prospered with me, and so fortunate was in all speculations that my luck became proverbial Then, alas! when all things seemed to smile upon me my wife died, and the world has never seemed the same to me since. l, however, had my dear daughter to console me, and in her love and affection became reconciled to the loss of my wife. A young Irish gentleman, called Brian Fitzgerald, came out to Australia and I soon saw that my daughter was in love with him, and that he reciprocated that af- lection, whereat was glad as I have always esteemed him highly I looked forward to their marriage, when suddenly 0 series of events occurred, which must be fresh to the memory of those who read these pages. MT.
 Oliver Whyte, a gentleman from London, called on me and startled me with the news that my first wife, Rosanna Moore, was still living, and that the story of her death had been an ingenious fabrication in order to de ceive me. She had met with an accident as stated in the newspaper, and had been taken to an hospital, where she recovered. The young doctor, who had sent the certificate of her death, had fallen in love with her and wanted to marry her, and had told me that she was dead in or der that her past life might be obliterated. The doctor. however, died before the mar riage and Rosanna did not trouble herself about undeceiving me- She was then acting on the burlesque stage under the name of 'Musettc,' and seemed to have gained an un- enviablo notoriety by her extravaganza and infamy. Whyte met her in London, and she became his mistress. He seemed to have f11 inf hoY. she told him all her past life and about her marriage with mo. Her popularity being on the wane in London, as she was now growing old, and had to make way for younger actresses, Whyte proposed that they sl ould come out to the colonies and extort money from me, and he had come to me for that purpose The villain told me all this in the coolest manner, and I, knowing he held the secret of my life, was unable to re- sentit. I refused to see Rosanna, but told Whyte l would agree to his terms, which were first, a large sum of money was to be paid to Rosanna, and secondly, Whyte wanted to marry my daughter I, at first, absolutely declined to sanction the latter proposal, but as he threatened to publish the story, and that meant the proclamation to the world of my daughters illegitimacy, at last agreed, and he began to pay his ad- dresses to Madge. She, however, re- fused to marry him and told mo she was engaged to Fitzgerald, so afterxa severe struggle with myself I told Whyte that I would not allow him to marry Madge, but would give him whatever sum he would like to name. On the night he was murdered he came to see me, and showed me the certifi- cate of marriage between myself and Ro- sanna Moore He refused to take sum of money, and said unless l consented to his marriage with Madge ho would publish the whole affair I implored him to give mo time to think, so he said he would give me two days, but no more, and left the house, taking the marriage certificate with him. I was in despair, and saw that the only way to save myself was to obtain possession of the marriage cer- tifcate and deny everything With this idea in my mind I followed him up town and saw him meet Moreland, and drink with him.
 They went into the hotelin Russell street, and when Whyte came out, at half past 12, he. was intoxicated 1 saw him go out along to the Scotch church, near the Burke and Wills monument, and cling to the lamp post at the corner I thought I would then be able to get the certificate from him, as he was drunk, when I saw a gentle man in a light coat-I did not know it was Fitzgerald-come up to him and hail O cab TOT hlm. l saw there was nothing more to be done at that time, so, in despair, went home and waited for the next day, in fear lest he should carry out his determination
 Nothing, however, turned up, and was be- ginning to think that Whyte had abandoned his purpose, when heard that he had been murdered in the hanson cab. I was in great fear lest the marriage certificate would be found on him, but as nothing was said about it I began to wonder I knew he had it on him, so came to the conclusion that the mur- derer, whoever he was, had taken it from the body, and would sooner or later come to me to extort money, knowing that+I dare not de nounce him. Fitzgerald was arrested, and afterwards acquitted, so I began to think that the certificate had been lost, and my troubles were at an end. However, was always haunted by dread that the sword was hanging over my head and would fall sooner or later. was right for two nights ago Roger Moreland, who was an intimate friend of Whyte's, called on me and pro- duced the marriage certificate, which he offered to sell to me for five thou sand pounds. In horror, accused him of murdering Whyte, which he de- nied at first, but> afterwards acknowl- edged, stating that I dare not betray him for my own sake. was nearly mad with the horror was placed in, either to de-
 nounce my daughter as illegitimate or let Q murderer c sSe the penalty of his crime.