Waterbury evening Democrat., 1889-05-07
Richard Pardon s Peril.
BY E. l.. FARJEOS.

| ing which might be of importance to me. | "When I received it." she continued, "with the injunction to deliver 1t into your hands | directly you came home, I thought would | first see what 1t contained" "You infamous womanI"
 "I advise you to be polite. Therefore l | wont to my room and opened it. Shall tell you what it contained2"
 "I am listening to you"
 l "It is most considerate of you, seeing that | your life hangs upon thread which it is in | my power to cut. It contained letter ad- | dressed to you by the clergyman. I read it with great interest It contained also copy of Samuel Fleetwood's false confession. I | read that with greater interest. It contained also Q private letter to you from Samuel Fleetwood. I read that with even greater interest indeed-indeed, with so much inter- est that I retai ned it." You stole it, then?" "If you choose to put it in those words I am agreeable. I stole 1t. MT. Pardon, you arc not n young man; you must have had experiences and adventures you must know | something of men and life. I am younger l than you-much, very much younger-but l have had my experiences and adventures, and know something, too, of men and life. Just now, judging from your agitation. I am 1 the clear-headed of the two, and tell you l that never did man stand in such fearful l danger as you do at this moment dis graceful, an infamous grave is yawning wide for you, and alone can lead you from it to safe ground. But you shall buy your safety upon my terms"
 | looked helplessly around her words car- ried conviction with them. She wilfully mis- construed my distracted gaze.
 "I know why you are looking about. You are a strong, man am weak woman. Have you any intention of committing a second murder? Do not entertain it. beg; weak as am, shall be able to defend myself till I alarm the house. Then no power on earth can save you from your fate. was speaking of Samuel Fleetwood's private letter, and l | told you that I retained it. What is more, made copy of it. The original is put safely away; it is in the hands of one who will use | it if the need occurs. Samuel Fleetwood did 1 not murder MT. Wlmot, but he saw the dec | done.'
 ''He saw it done2" I gasped. 'sWho, then. | is the murderer?"
 s'What question! Who is the murderer? You! You, and no other man!' | You lie r 1 cried. "You lie!''
 II speak the truth and you know it. Sam- | uel Fleetwood's confession is false confess sion. made not so much to ss.ve you as to save your wife and daughter from indeliblo infamy. I told you I had read the comics sion, which, of course, you have also done. What do you think of that part of it which speaks of the cord with which the unfortun- ate gentleman was strangled? Do you know anything of that cord? Gould you produce l it if you were forced to do SOP" It did not seem to me that human being | was speaking. The words heard seemed to be uttered by some remorseless devil.
 ESQ much for the cord,' she said. 'There is another part of the confession which must have puzzled you-the ring with its remarka- ble diamond. What do you think of the description Samuel Fleetwood gives in his confession of having taken it off the dead mans finger? What do you think of the description he gives of having thrown ii into river? Shall I hazard a guess, and | declare that you, and no other man, know | where that ring is at this moment? Shall l hazard a guess, and declare that, if you were at this moment seized and searched, the ring which proclaims you thief and murderer would be discovered? Oblige me with an | answer to that"
 She paused, obviously with the intention of giving me time to reflect. But all power of logical thought had passed from me- All I could say was:
 1 "I must know more. Have you with you the copy of the private letter you say you made?"
 l 'I have it with me-"
 "Will you let me read it2"
 II brought it for you to read. Invite me to be seated.'
 "Be seated.''
 She laughed, and made me a mocking obeisance; then, seating herself, handed me the following document:
 "From SAMUKL FLEETWOOD, dead, to R1cHARr l PARDON, Esq, living.
 When this reaches your hands I shall be dead, lying in a dishonored grave. By man 1 shall be condemned, and in mans eyes my name will be infamous; but the Supreme, ] hope and believe, will forgive the sin it is my intention to commit. This contemplated sin will take the form of confession, in which shall declare myself to be guilty Of the awful l crime you committed. When you read these lines, you alone, of all men living, will know that 1 am innocent.
 s'It was an hour past midnight when I was awoke from my sleep by MT. Wilmots voice his room, and found him in deep slumber talking to himself He was talking of you and my honored and beloved mistress and daughter; and although, after I had con vinced myself that was not required, die not stop to listen, heard sufficient to sus pect that. unless you bent yourself to MT Wilmot's commands. 1t was his purpose te ruin and beggar you. Sad at heart, re turned to my room and sought my bed, anc presently fell asleep again. must have slept about two hours, when l started up il
 bed with an impression that some person be sides himself was in MT. Wilmot's apartment
 rose, and was about to ascertain if this was | so, when the door between his room ane
 shrank out of sight, and could not help see
 ing that your face was white and convulsed
 and that your limbs were bling violently Stepping very quietly, fearful of attracting notice, you left my room. Waiting little
 while to give you time to get clear away, l
 once more entered Mir. Wilmot's apartment
 and discovered, to my horror, that he hac l been murdered-by you!
 sWhat was I to do? To give the alarm
 and point to you as the murderer? In tha | case, indeed, Your ruin and digraca Wouls