Waterbury evening Democrat., 1889-08-17


 the complicated fastening and fluttered to his feet
 John picked it up at his masters bidding and gave 1t into the trembling. outstretched palm.
 CHAPTER XIV.
 Sir Rupert spread out its long-folded length on his hand, gazed intently at the chirography for some time, apparently try ing to decipher it's contents. Not making it out satisfactorily, he handed it to the sex ton who stood watching him, and said, hur- riedly: "Rcad it to mo, will youa''
 The quiet sexton, having an idea of some thing of its contents. took the paper re- luctantly and read in clear, modulated tones:
 April 1a ls- relative; even now I am talking to one who can make no response, as by these few lines I am saying farewell to my blessed dead-au have left to talk to. Mother, have been at Hentherleigh for the last time, think; gloom tly-desolated Heatherleighi l imagine up in the shining courts of your beautiful home you may still remember it, but certainly not for any good.
 'I havo forfeited all right to it's doors, mother. as you dreaded I would before you passed away, and the respect of its master, my father, has gone with it. In all this have not sinned, as God is my judGel
 ''The condemnation I have to bear havc not merited by word or deed, nevertheless have 1t to bear. Oh! that could have died with thee; then the heart aches and tears bitter cup to the brim.
 'Tcau return to the Hall mother if beg for forgiveness and ask pardon for the course l saw ht to take. but I, too, am Q Pcrcival, and will never humble myself enough to ask for Rdveness of one of my own kin simply to in- dulge that hated austerity that curses my house.
 "A few hours ago bade them all goodbye, and looked my last on the paternal face full of furious pride and naughty severity. Now r am here, mother, beside tho tomb of my cnces- tors; here where you arc resting. But shall not have the privilege of lying with you when the shadows fall across my sun. for even tho repose of my dead kindred is denied me. My lot has fallen with the dis.nherlted, ard brand cd as Cain seek the strangers homo ln 0 strange land.
 Rest vel darling mother. The boom of the seas will roll between us and you will no: know the fate of your heart-broken child, unless you can see from the reg:oa above tho stars and love and pity mo from tho gates to which trust to shortly como. Yot, mother. 1t is well. MIRIAM PERc1vAL FAIRFAX The sexton had finished reading tho strange, weird epistle, and in such place it seemed entirely in kee ping with the sad, soul-communion with the dead.
 Sir Rupert, who had kept his eyes riveted on the lips of the reader from tho beginning, with wild, unearthly stare and shriek staggered back into tho arms of the white-faced coachman and lay quite still for some moments, giving but little sign of consciousness.
 The frightened John held his master tcnderly in his arms, as if ho had been q sleeping child, while the sexton chafed tho withered hands and facc to hasten return ing animation.
 "I expected this," he said to the fearful servant. "I looked for him to find that let ter. Yes," he went on, IS John shot an in Quiring glance at him, 'I knew it was here. You see Mrs. Fairfax visited Oak lawn last spring. and she desired me to ac- company her in the grounds as she left tho boy outside with the carriage.
 "I accompanied her, of course, wondering why she wanted mo, but after l saw her write that letter there on the railing and deposit 1t in the bolt-casing, why, under stood. You sec she wanted me to know 1t was there and to look after 1t, which l havc done. I never read 1t until to-day, though, but I had m idea it was some thing awful-like. because she looked like death itself and said, low and solemn like, shaft for shaft;' and kinder thought she was driven at revenge on
 
 began to revive.
 Presently Sir Rupert opened his eyes with piteous, appealing look in them, and asked in whispered accents: "Where is tha. letter? Give it to mel It is all have left ot her-of Miriam"
 They gave him the fatal note, and he ca r. ressed it with kiss, and put it in his inner coat
 ''Now take mo home, to that desolato Heatherleigh, he said, wcarily. "And when ! come again I shall not know aught of earth and it's hard, hard waysp
 The men exchanged significant glances and helped him to the carriage. It was with difficulty that they managed to get him had accomplished it he was so exhausted in soul and body he seemed moro dead than alive.
 "You can't count on much speed" said the sexton, warningly, as John mounted the box, "but you must be as quick as you can under the circumstances, or-or yell have him to bring back here by tomorrow" They turned away from Oaklawn then, and the sexton shut the great doublo gates after them with an ominous clang. When they left the beautiful repose ot OAklawn behind them and turned into the highway, Sir Rupert revived enough to sit
 
 recollecting something quite forgotten, he drew from his pocket the fatal missive. Folding and unfolding the scrap of paper, as one might in a dream, he murmured in a vague, desperate way: "All have left, all have left of happiness Is deathl "Miriam is gonc-gone-gonel l had thought toto make amends, but 1t Is toe late; too iateg' And lowing his head upon his trembling hands, he sobbed like child | in his great grief
 The autumn breezes came softly over the sleepy world and gently famed the silky, gray hair on the aged crown; the sunset fire famed low on the hills, and, stealing 8 brightly across, kissed the bowed form, but | he needed 1t not. What was nature's sooth- l ing pity or loving favor to him! He, with his cross heavier than he could bear, was | at last succumbing to tho inevitable. Moving his lips as if in prayerful suppli- cation, he raised his head and sank back among the crimson cushions of his easy car- l riage.
 l Who wouls have dreamed of any thing but comfort snd luxury to have seen the T