The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1893-07-27

tic house and her haste impressed me
as having positive terror in it.
Truly there was mystery in the sod
den air of that evening.
Jackson put his foot on the first step
and then recoiled with a low cry, his
hand pressed over his heart The ladies
became frightened and begged them to
retire, assuring them that it was moth
ing serious. When we were alone jack
son told me he had been taken SO sew
eral times and that it would soon pass
away. In few minutes he recovered
sufficiently to go to his room and left
me well pleased to he thrown on my
own resources for company.
Twas in the hopes of seeing Fred be-
fore went to bed. 1t was my first
visit in several months, and due more
to desire of seeing him than to my
anxiety concerning some property that
had not far away. l was a little an
noyed at not having been able to see
more of him, but could scarcely blame
him for devoting himself to Mabel. He
had been put to good deal Of pains to
secure her cociety. He first met her at
the house of his aunt in Chattanooga.
He made every effort to get his aunt to
come to his fathers house for a long
stay, and when he had succeeded pre-
vailed upon the aunt to invite Mabel.
After such generalship, l said to my
self, he deserves his reward.
1t was almost midnight and I was
getting ready to go to bed, when saw
Fred coming out of an avenue of low
bushes which led to the main road He
did not speak to me, but grasped my
hand with an earnestness that seemed
in some way intensely pathetic. Ny
lips were opened to question him. when
he turned and hurried through the open
door up the stairway.
"Jealous!" l exclaimed.
| My sleepiness forsook me, and l sat
thinking and smoking. heard a foot
step behind me, and looking around
saw the red fire of a lighted cigar. l
guessed at once that my visitor was
Randolph Jackson. from the pecul lar
way in which the cigar burned. 1t
glowed fiercely for little time and
then the light sank almost to invisible
ity. All this was with the slow regu-
larity of the ticking of a timepiece
Jackson was an inveterate smoker, and
he always pulled at his cigar in pre-
cisely this manner, lighting fresh one
as soon as one was consumed.
Gould you tell me-" he asked, ''how
1 can communicate with any of the
servants?"
Sc he lot I
out making any effort not to seem short.
Il realize that, but they have given
me such small pillows that l cannot
sleep. I wish to get some large ones. :"
l told him how to find the colored
houselSeeper's door, and reflected that
jackson was probably in dangerous
way. If had known him better and
liked him, would have felt sorry for
him. AS it was, l contented myself
with mental comment that when an
habitual tobacco consumer who had
sudden pains in the heart found him
self unable to sleep except with his
head high, it would be just as well for
him to be little careful. 1t didn't
concern me. however; the chances were
in favor of his living long time, and
if he didn't-there would he no excuse
for my putting on mourning.
In an instant / confessed to myself
that this cold philosophy was the
merest assumption. Jackson's appear
ance had startled me very much; it had
seemed in some way the consequence of
the thought had been bending myself
to. He had been the subject of every
mental effort that / could command;
memory, logic, even imagination.
felt sure had seen him elsewhere. 1t
could not have been in New Orleans,
for l had never visited that city. l had
tried to recall one by one all the people
l ever knew; the effort was as fruitlcss
as it was tatiguing. / repeated his
name Randolph jackson" over and
over. In some way it brought back an
encounter of good many years before
While l was a student of medicine
was witness in case which attract
ed great deal of attention for awhile.
l was going home from the college one
night, when heard shot. | pressed
forward with the crowd and entered
the house from which the sound had
proceeded. A demand for medical as
sistance brought me to the immediate
scene of what had undoubtedly been a
murder. 1t was the first time l had
ever come into contact with death in a
violent form, and all the circumstances
impressed themselves wildly upon my
! memory. A man was seated on chair,
his head thrown forward OH his arms,
which rested on the table before him.
When l made an examination a bullet
hole stared at me from the base of the
skull. He was past all assistance.
The room was very poorly furnished.
The walls had been newly white
washed, and a little sheet-iron stove
stood near the wall on the left. There
was SO little in the room that it had a
| distinct character, and every detail
| stood out in the memory like cameo.
\ The murdered man had been a good
| deal of a scapegrace; had made living
by odd jobs of writing for the news
papers, but was known to have re-
ceived large sum of money from an
inheritance. Only one man had been
known to visit him in this room. He
was known through some extensive
L