Fort Worth daily gazette. (Fort Worth, Tex.) 1882-1891, 1890-06-08


poor child g supposed death. was placed
in the hearse and conveyed to the privat,
chapel attached to the house here, anC
was buried in the family vault, where
only the first Lord Gilmore then lay
though-now my husband
Here Lady Gilmore suddenly broke
/ down, and sobs she could not suppress.
burst from her trembling lips.
entreat you to compose yourself,
! said Father Hayward, earnestly. ICON
| slider, my daughter, that you alone can
repair the wrong You did, that without
| your evidence it never can be undone. -
81 will try, I" she wept; "but-but il
is all so bitter-to-think that the one
for whose sake 1 did it all-the son I
loved too we'll, too we'll, should-have
broken my hearth
Confessed and repented sins can be
blotted out, - said the father, gently.
"You wish now that right and Justice
should be done2'
81 do, do! I wish now that this
other son-the son I wronged-should
take his righlful name and plaes in the
world. That bitter birthright-his
poor crooked form-was no fault of his,
and Nurse Brewster tells me he has
grown up strong and well. -
"How has he been educated?" asked
the priest gravely.
''He has been well educated at
Catholic seminary, but his personal de-
feet stood in the way of his entering the
priesthood. He has always passed as
Nurse Brewster son, and about four
years ago-when he was twenty-one-I
advanced money to establish him on q
farm, situated close to Scarley, believe,
and his reputed mother lives with him
there
"And have you ever seen him since
you parted with him as babe?'
Eyes. but only rarely; was afraid to
for the others sake. l saw him last
when he was about fifteen, ten years ago
now
"And you are sure this woman has not
deceived you? That this young man is
actually your son?'
81 am as sure as that 1 am myself
alive. Father, it is a strange thing, but
this boy whom his father despised and
hated, has Inherited every feature of his
face. He is hunchback, and but for
that Nurse Brewster has often told me
that his likeness TO her late lord is some
thing marvellous.
Father Hayward was silent for few
moments; he stood with his eyes cast
down thinking what it was best to do.
"And this Nurse Brewster would give
direct evidence in the event of trial, 1
he said at last. ''She would |
speak the truth?''
"She dare do nothing else, - answered |
Lady Gilmore, a sudden flush rising to |
her pale face.
"We cannot tell; what other evidence |
could we bring forward?'
"What other evidence!' repeated |
Lady Gilmore passionateIy. "Is ny
word not enough? But if other evidence
5 wanted, let them go to the family
7ault, and open the little empty coffin
which lies there!'
THAT, no doubt, is strong point
tut my daughter you have borne enough
o-day-take some rest now, with this
onsolation to comfort you, that by this
onfession you have eased your soul of
eavy BURDEN
ga heavy burden too great almost for
le TO bear!' replied Lady Gilmore ex-
itedly. 81 bore it for his saAe-I
hould have died sileut-if he had not
cted as he has DONE
'Then let US be thankful that good
as come out of evil, and may this
tranger son prove the comfort and help
your declining days.
Other words he spoke to her which
eed not be written here; words of peace
nd pardon, for the good mans heart
proved for her, knowing well that the
lol of her life was shattered, and all her
arthly pride laid low. The world was [
othing to her now, she told him, aud
le one hope left to her was to cleanse {
er soul of this grievous sin. i
IAPTER xvII.-THE YOUNG FARMER. '
Three days later Oady Gilmore having
the meanwhile made deposition of +
n confession. before q magistrate),
ather Hayward started for the village T
: the northern seaboard, where the late
)rd Gilmore legitimate heir had been
dden away and reared. The father
as not only a good and pious man, but h
ardent and devoted upholder of the f
nets of his church, and the knowledge n
at this young man had been brought h
Roman Catholic, made him b
ubly anxious that his rights should be p
once fully established. The great I
'alth of the house of Gilmore was also N
esent in his. mind as he travelled h
and he was eager that its IL
wer and influence should be directed
what he naturally deemed the most is
;hteous channels. He went armed dt
tn letter to her son from Lady Gill to
re, and also one to Nurse Brewster, a
1 he reached Scarley on a bright
rning in the spring time, a pale. sv
lteflecked blue sky spanning the wide
zen rolling sea. 81.
IN old world place this, with the oil
lermen g cottages perched near the he
ye of the beetling crags towering sit
und the little bay. A quaint place,
cling of the sea and the sea-fish, with G.
great nets spread out to dry on the sh
en- banks, and the girls in their neat he
ut bedgowns, and short blue skirts al
tering about, jesting and sing tn
as they go. Here and there a ia
ter house-the parson g, the doctor's
ut for the most part the village is tn
de up of the humble dwellings of the of
II. Father Hayward walked on in
ring his way as he went of bronzed. tn,
wart men, the children of the sea, glf
, had been reared on its cliffs, and
ned their bread on its waters, and SIN
lmes found their graves in its silent aft
this.
Cragside farmbouse?'' one of them pc,
wered. in his broad Northern tongue nm
the fathers inquiries. 'fWhere the Z
ng hunchyback lives? Yon's the tai
Sc, over in the fields there;" and he lip
tied with his brown, strong hand to-
DIS some vide, green, spreading pas jok
$ and fields of sprouting corn. onI