Waterbury evening Democrat., 1891-09-11
The Mystery
of the Towers

= By evening everything was fn readk Ress, save the shipping of few requisites for the sick girls comfort. These, how | ever, arrived just at dusk-the huge fat trunk conta ntng them--which one of the seamen said reminded him foroibly of a cofin-a rema which drew down . vol | lew of abuse from his companions-was hoisted on board, safely bestowed under | the doctors cure, in the big cabin. The | anchor weighed, and the little vessel danced out over the ocean. Before, how ever, she was out of sight of land tho storm, of which my reader already knows, broke, and those on board wished heartily land was still in sight. The men bound themselves to the maSts to keep themselves from being washed overheard, and down below in the oabin-ths doctor, all needless of the storm, bored over his books--forgetful, heed. eSs of all else but his study.
 By-and-by the storm passed over, tho sea has lashed out it's fury, and is calm as a lake again; the little bark rides like bird over it's oily surface. On deck the men gather together and speak in awe struck whispers of the terrors they have c-caped. Could they but peep into the cabin below they would no longer ask themselves what i'll fate has made such a storm arise.
 Here is the doctor, no longer boring over his books. What Is that white mass upon the table before him1 Is it a human formP Yes, surely. That of a yonng and beautiful girl, her fragile form wrapped in a coarse shroud, her fair dead face with its halo of golden hair, shown distinctly in the rays of the swinging lamp. Old Mat has done his work well. By and-by he may be able to make some thing out of the beautiful satin robe which, in fear of discovery, not in avarice, he has taken from the body he has "snatched" That course shroud hut i'll agrees with tho dainty under-clothes which 1t covers.
 But the doctor does not stay to think of such meters He has his work, and just now fortune favours him beyond what he dared to hope The yacht glides along without scarcely any rocking motion.
 The man of science has no thought upon the fair form, the angel face, and what they have been in life. He hastily clips the golden cuTAs from just where they will Interfere with his work, and scarcely Bhudders even, so abeorbed is he in his work, when the golden threads twine around his fingers. He lays them aside, appeals to some notes on the table beside him; a bright instrument flashes in his hand, Is buried in the pure white flesh. Then, with 8 oFy, he starts back and lets the insLrum ment fall.
 That cry of terror brings his son to his side, and together, terror-stricken, the two men gaze upon the dead, who is come to life and looks up with wild, unmeaning eyes in their awe-struCk faces.
 How that night passes they scarcely know, but through 1t and the next day they guard their secret, and helplessly ask each other what they shall do.
 Then on the morrow their destination is reached, and the doctor receives his -,.ild into his care, Is this the bonnie Alice Linden, this pale sad-faced girl whose every breath is anguish, in whose sunked eyes one reads the message of death?
 The doctor knows it. will not realize it Heart broken, he gazes at his dying child: while her nurse, a kind-hearted old sonl who had been in the family for at least two generations, weeps and prays the end may be soon.
 .'Take me home, father oh, take me home " is the sick girls cry. And he, to please her, calls upon the men to weigh anchor, and the vessel turns on its home ward way.
 But alasl scarcely is the harbor bar passed before Alice Linden is nearer 8 better then an earthly home.
 The sailors shiver when they know there will be death on board, and pro- phesy all sorts of fearful things.
 "We shall none of us live to sec th9 morning." they say.
 And they prophecy truly. Before dawn the little vessel strf6es.on 8 rock and sinkR and all on boerd sGE0 Gerald Linden and his sister go to answer for their last account
 Yes; strange as 1t may seem-she who naaraat death wRa Rayad A1ira Linden died-bUt Q new AlSCs LAndsn llved-one who wONh never have the power to de6an the hoEr0Es of that fear fearful night The chains of madness held her fast-a PriDonsr.
 Leaving his sister in saSe hands who | which she falls . victim, Gerald Linden went to the Ola honoa-nsw h4s hY hAs fathers death, Hn kAe pROPa0<T b SnAAnDd | and there hka ARsa Viatb iS to old MaehS cottage. He fs bot onO daW too hte. i Ouiy the morn before saw the old body. snatcher struck down by pa@alysaA and h the evening he had brSAthed his last Then to find out if on that night in the month of August any ohurchyard had been des- 1 ecrated but how can he trace mans puny handiWork amidst the great and many dsv astations of Gods mighty Wdllf
 The mighty storm had done it's work and destroyed all track
 Every clue to the mystery ts destroyed, for never once did tho gtrl thus strangely risen from the dead give any clue to her identity.
 When time after time they tried to find out her name, she would shake her head and laugh giaetuly.
 II am dead. Dead people have no names" That was her answer to all i'm quiEies.
 My reat r knows what followed. This stranger was given Alice Linden's place, and there was none to say it was not so till stood before Gerald Linden and knew her as she had loss so long.
 Suoh was the tale he told me, and when I spoke of claiming her saw his bosom heave, his hands clasp one over the other.
 'I acted for the best" he said "She has been we'll and happy with us. Why not leave herr"
 ''No, po," cry. ''She is mine. What
 there Is of my sweet Madeline let me have
 in my care"