The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1894-01-03

be mistaken-no-one in the center of
the head was missing.
Will you pardon me, Mr.. Grant2"
l asked, II" if take the liberty to admire
your ring? 1t is so much more effec.
tive than the ordinary close-coiled
make"
I" 1t was an idea of my own," he
said; 81 never saw one quite like it.
l will take 1t off, 80 that you may ex-
anime it closer"
"Thank you," replied, as received
it from him. ooh, what a pityl" l
exclaimed, "you have lost one of the
stones"
Yes; only few days ago. l have
not yet had time to have a new one
cut. YOU see the shape is uncommon"
I" / am afraid you will not find it easy
to MATCH" | remarked as | handed him
back the ring. " Perhaps, however, l
may be able to help YOU" Again l
caught the nervous contraction of his
eyes as / opened small silver box l
was wearing at my side. l paused a
moment, glanced at his face, which
seemed shade whiter, and then dropped
the missing tone into his hand.
shall never forget the look he gave
met was that of wild animal brought
to bay. Every feature of his face
seemed changed. 1t is impossible to
describe how i felt. l only know l
looked him quietly in the face with
cold smile and said in measured tones:
"You need not fear. l shall not
break my oath, can you not understand
that? But no; what can you know
about honor or the sanctity of an oath?
l have given to you my only proof to
your identity. AT least you can COM
prehend that?"
| paused, but he was still silent
There was no look of defiance in his
face; he was BUNDLED and abashed.
CIVIL you accept few words of ad-
vice from woman?" | asked at length.
He bowed his head in acquiescence and
| continued
." My oath was, never to try to
bring you to Justice, and never to in
form against you should we meet again.
Still l can easily put my friends upon
their guard without breaking my oath.
1t will be my duty to do so if you re-
main here. A word, look, smile
even, might sweep you from the false
position in society you have so easily
gained. / advise you to leave New
York and America at once. 1t will be
safer and wiser for you"
He looked at me for one long mo-
ment, and then rising, said:
am not worthy even to thank you
for the mercy you show me, the chance
you offer me. l will do as you request.
/ will leave America tomorrow. There
is but one way | can prove my gratitude
to you, but one way l can hope to make
you believe that this night has folded
down dark page in my life forever
and that is to leave with you proof of
my crime"
My hands were in my lap; he dropped
into one the ring, and, before l could
speak, he had muttered hurried
"Good BY" turned and left the room.
Two days later read his name in the
list of passengers on the Servia. Often
when l came across that snake c0iled
away in my jewel box l have wondered
what had become of its owner. Never
should have told this story had not
CHANGED on a paragraph in the last Lon
don Graphic. And even now | would
not tell it did it not point 80 we'll to the
old moral, alt is never too late to
mend"
The paragraph l refer to was in a
vivid description of one of the Afghan
skirmishes. The English loss had been
heavy. After an obituary notice of the
officers who had fallen, came upon the
name "John Grant Beauchamp." l
was struck by it, and read along
eagerly:
This young man, although but an
0rIn I'll 10
the eldest son of the Rev. John Beau
champ, vicar of Lawton-Valence, and
Lady Mary Salisbury, his wife. His
youth was wild, so wild that he dis
appeared for year, and is supposed to
have been in America under an as.
sumed name. The prodigal son re-
turned to England year ago and vol
unteered. His record was so good, his
duties 80 faithfully performed, that he
was soon appointed non-commissioned
officer. In this position-so unnatural
to one of his birth and breeding-he
was beloved by his companions and re-
spected by his superiors. His end was
noble and self-sacrifcing. Throwing
himself in front of his colonel, he re-
ceived in his own breast the weapon
aimed at his commandments life. Wher
his companions were about to prepare E
bundle of his effects to be sent to his
bereaved parents at Lawton-Valence
they could find little to send excepting
his watch and washeather bag, worn
about his neck. They opened the bag
and found within small triangular
turquoise. pa. H. Pickering, in Neu
York Advertiser.