Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1889-03-23
The Way 1f the W1Fl1.
CONCLUDED.


In the summer of 1857 all England was
plunged into the widest state of excitement
and alarm by the tidiugs that certain Sepoy
regiments had mutinied and our Indian en-
pire was in danger. There was only one
man in England, probably, to whom that
grievous disaster came as welcome news.
That man was Pierce Wharton, to whom,
indeed, the national calamity offered an un-
expected respite from the danger that
threatened. The -th, after receiving orders
to return home. had been detained to assist
in quelling the mutiny, and Wharton was
inclined to back out ofDr. Westlake's plan
for raising the wind, trusting to the chances
of war for escape. from his dilemma.
Lowndes might be shot; hundred things
might happen to give him final release from
the hateful presence of black care which oc-
cupied his waking thoughts and menaced
him in nightly visions.
But Westlake, for reasons best known to
himself, had grown too enamored of his
plan to withdraw from it at the last moment.
''Besides." A." he said to Wharton, "even if it
were safe to count on the chance of Lowndes
falling, he may make will. He has sis
ter, you know, married to Slingsby, tine
barrister, and tribe of nephews and nieces.
Suppose he leaves everything to Mrs.
Slingsby, or her children, who will be any
better off? Lowndes might show you some
mercy, but Slingsby wouldn't"
Wharton acknowledged that this reason
ing was irresistible And so the plan went
on.
Wharton was at Gorlington when the
news of the outbreak of the mutiny arrived,
and there this conversation took place. He
had gone down to Norfolk in accordance
with an agreement made on the occasion of
his visit there in March, taking with him
his wife and daughter.
Outside the grounds Of the Retreat. and
communicating with it by door through
the garden, there stands compactly built
cottage of six rooms. This cottage was part
of the Retreat estate, and stood facing the
sea. 1t had not been occupied since DR..
Westlake purchased the practice, but after
Wharton's visit in March the cottage was
put into repair and plainly furnished as a
summer residence for Mrs. Wharton, her
husband and little Marcia.
They had been down in Norfolk week,
and already the health-giving breezes that
blow in summer on that charming coast had
visibly improved Mrs. Wharton's health.
She spent most of her time in the garden
fronting the sea, reclining in an invalid
chair, employed upon her embroidery
while little Marcia, a child of 6, sat play
ing at her feet. A handsome woman was
Mrs. Wharton, as the rustics were heard to
say, who passed that way. She was
like her brother, with jet black hair, and
a fair complexion, with the faintest sus-
r
the sardonic expression which marred Mark
westlake's beauty was wholly absent from
her lovely face. Round her mouth rested
smile of winning sweetness, while her white
shapely hands were cast in a mold that
Canova would have delighted to model.
Her graceful shoulders and well-developed
figure, half revealed through the light airy
dress of gauzy texture that she wore during
those hot sunny days, were in keeping with
her regal style OF beauty. Like her brother,
she was q woman of almost iron will when
occasion arose for her to put forth her power
as the look of resolution in her gray eyes
denoted; endowed, too, with remarkable
self-possession. A woman to keep her own
confidence and endure bravely in spite of
moral racks and thumb-screws.
Was she in her husbands and brothers
condolences when the great scheme was.
afoot? Alice Wharton was the soul of
honor, and the plot that her husband and
brother were engaged in weaving was not of
nature that could safely be communicated
to woman like her. Though some nine years
younger than Westlake and Wharton, she
would have lashed both men with her fine
seorn and put them to confusion, if they
had dared to make her their confdante in
their guilty copfederacy. If the truth was
known Pierce Wharton stood in greater
dread of his wife coming to know the du-
plicity and fraud he had practiced on Major
LoWndes than of the prison bars that must
be his fate if ever the secret were dragged to
light.
The end of. July was come, and the time
drew near when the scheme resolved upon
was to be put into execution. 1t was
broiling hot day, just the day, Westlake
thought, for the business on which he was
bent. Mrs. Wharton was reclining as usual
in her invalid chair after lunch, in the cot
tage garden fronting the sea, chatting to the
two men in that 'soft voice" which seemed
to lend greater charm to her conversation,
and which Shakespeare tells us ''is an excel
lent thing in woman" when Howgate burst
in at the gate hastily and beckoned the doc
tor.
"what is the matter now?" the physician
said.
"There is something wrong with Mason,
sir" said Howgate, che appears to have a
kind of fit" Mason was one of the lunatic
patients, and DR.. Westlake hurried away
Immediately.
s'what harassing life Of it poor Mark
has" Mrs. Wharton remarked to her hus-
hand, rs the doctor went away. 1 often
wish he had chosen some other branch of
medical science for his speciality"
ssChacun son gout, remarked Wharton.
"It is not walk for a man whose nerves
are not of castiron; but for my part think
there is nothing more interesting than the
study of mental disease to a man who is cut
out for it.
,ras not lunaey doctor. 1t is very pleasant
here in this delightful summer weather;
bnt fancy. what it must be like to be shut
mn In that gloomy barracks through the
Ionc months of winter, with not living
souI near to communicate with, except those
moor Iunaties and their keepers. How the
wind must howl round the place, too.''
0Tt is not very cheerful, certainly" re-
marked Wharton. 81 don't think [ told
you, dear, that there was frlghtful storm
raging one night VIXEN was down here last
March. and. what with the bowling of the
wind outside and the mad yells of some CT
those Door vretches within, wink OF sleep
was not to be had; at least not by me. Next
morning Mark told me he hadn't heard
sound, which shows that use Is everything.
'aThere is something in that, no doubt,"
Mrs. Wharton answered. ''but it does not
touch my argument. 1t seems to me that
whatever be the destinations OF the lite to
man like Mark, that il requires the COM
pensation of cheerful society. Now there Is
no society in the place-unless you call
Howgate society. L mean the society of
cultured persons. Without that it appears
70 me that man must grow hard, If even