Waterbury evening Democrat. [volume] (Waterbury, Conn.) 1887-1895, 1893-05-06
The MartlGt Seal.
By JEANETTE II. wALwoRTH.
CHAPTER XIV.

ID sloW-plooulng beast. l can head
him off, after consultation with law
yer, my dear"
She said it aloud, as if she would re-
assure the unresting spirit that was
forever goading her to fresh endeavor
In the direction of solving the Norcross
mystery.
If ever she felt tempted to give over
the hopeless task of unearthing her sis
ter's slayer there would come back to
her, with reproach in it's shadowy eyes,
vision of Amelia, not as she had seen
her in the Norcross mansion, ablaze
with jewels and flashing in yellow
satin, but Amelia in her peculiarly help
less, clinging childhood; Amelia in her
pure, happy girlhood; Amelia in her
winning, unsullied, budding woman
hood; the Amelia whom she had loved
and protected before that rash marriage
with Sibley Fairbanks, which had been
dissolved, as rashly, at the close of
three years.
OF that Amelia, and of none other,
would she permit herself to think. 1t
was that Amelia who was still appeal
ing to her for help. She raised her
arms despairingly.
In all this wide world, full of clear
heads, strong arms and tender hearts,
there was none to care, not one to
help her throw the light Of truth upon
that dark, dark spot in her memory
Perhaps it had been reserved for Dick
to help her. Perhaps the clew had been
put into his hands for her guidance.
No one could have had any motive
for that dastardly deed but Sibley Fair
banks. Amelia-the beautiful, willful
Amelia-had not made him a good wife.
She had heard only Mellies partial
statement; but it had been enough.
Sibley Fairbanks had the motive of
Jealous revenge to steel his arm; and
there was the witness of the seal of the
Fairbanks family.
81 will do it, my dear. will follow
this clew to its bitter end. Perhaps then
you will rest, and so will l."
Yes, steam is q slow plodding beast,
especially when every nerve In ones
body is aquiver with impatience
Sibley Fairbanks, steaming slowly up
the river in answer to Ida's telegram,
| was In just such a feverish state of an
rest, until, eagerly running across the
clumsy staging that was flung out for
his convenience at his own landing, he
saw two carriages waiting under the
| spreading sycamore trees. One was a
hackney coach occupied by two white
men.
Old Cato stood bareheaded by the
horses of the other. His withered
black face had beamed homely well
como to "his boy Sibley" long before the
| gangway had been adjusted. Sibley
had waved his hat cordially in return.
1t was towards Cato's vehicle that he
was hurrying, when a sober face and q
massive form were interposed between
| IL and him:
II am sorry, Mr.. Fairbanks, but-you
are my prisoner"
He rccoiled step and looked the man
Amazedly In the face.
| "Your prisoner"
| The man extended a folded piece of
paper. He declined touching it.
"Who arc you?"
Martin Hastings, sheriff of Dalton"
"But are you not making mistake,
Mr.. Sheriff.
mot unless the mistake lies In think
ing that you are the Sibley Fairbanks
herein described"
Again he offered the warrant for
perusal This time Sibley took it and
read 1t, standing there under the old
sycamore trees that stretched their
gnarly branches protectingly over him,
with Cato watching the whole strange
scene In throbbing anxiety.
Fairbanks grew CHASTITY white as he
read. The paper trembled in his grasp.
When he handed it back it fell between
him and Sheriff Hastings. He took out
his white silk handkerchief and wiped
the great beads from his forehead He
was afraid to trust himself to words.
At last:
docs that mean" he asked, huslzily,
that I must go with you-go back to
New OrleansP'
at does"
"Do you know what brought me
here?"
You are here to attend your fathers
funeral. We have thought of that, and
are disposed to mako 1t as easy ON you
as possible. My companion here-my
Ideputy-is entirely unknown in this
neighborhood. With your permission
he will drive to Glenburnie in tho same
carriage with you. would advise you
to go quietly. He can pass as friend
who came up with you, you know"
II suppose you mean to be kind, so
ought to thank You. do" said Sibley
with mechanical courtesy.
mo call for gratitude; only, YOU see
there's no use your kicking against the
Ipricks, and there's no use our making II
) any rougher on you than need be-"
"What is my friends name?" aslze
Fairbanks, smiling somewhat grimly
as the sheriff beckoned to his con
panion, aslight, boyish, beardless youn
man.
"Moore. As gentle as q girl, as lon
as you walk straight, but Old Nick hin
: self couldn't get away from him" Ii
. had caught and misread the wintr
smile on Fairbanks lips.
81 have no desire to try his patienc
In that direction" said his prisoner
walking haughtily away in the direC
ton of his own carriage. At its.step
he paused and courteously turned t
the officer of the law, with regal all
J Before me, Mr.. Moore"
Moore entered the vehicle. Sible
stepped in after him. Old Cato clam
1 harad to hia march IN fha hioh old 70 al