Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1896-08-01

bO" IoFtl OlCC-tkySy anu 1uNo
her as much still, God help me!
How can go on leading this exist
enco? How is it all to end-this living
death, this self inflicted expiation Of a
crime? often wonder. Yet here have
dragged out three horrible, weary years
three years that have seemed to me
like an eternity.
One day i'll my lonely wanderings
came upon a spot where some tourists
had been lunching. They had left a
newspaper behind them. Mechanically I
took it up. 1t was London daily, now
some three or four weeks old. With
eager longing read the news. 1t was
the first had seen of the old home land
i'll three long, weary years. That jour
nal falling in my way was one of those
strokes Of chance which we call improb-
able in fiction, but which in reality di-
rect the destinies Of our lives. Suddenly
1 started back as short paragraph met
my gaze:
ut is expected that the trial will
take place about the 18th prox., at the
central criminal ourt of Clement Grim.
ston, now under arrest for the murder
of Mr.. Lesson at Rotherhithe about
three years ago."
Oh, God! This was what dreaded.
An innocent man was about to suffer for
my crime, and that man the very one
who had saved me-who had screened
me from justicel
Without moments pause I quilted
my Alpine retreat. I had plenty Of
money still.
Oh, that horrible journey through the
continent of Europe. The rattling, roar
ing of the trains sounded like the voices
of demons rushing through my brain.
So slow, so slowl Should l ever reach
there?
All! Paris at last, the gay city that
had once so dearly loved, but the looks
Of all things were changed to me now.
was speeding Onto my death
The channel, Dover, London; bus
other spot fraught with pleasant men,
ories.
Eyes, cabman, the Old Bailey! Drive
like wildfire, and you shall have SOW
ereign"
rush wildly into the gloomy, sol
emn old court, where the sensation low
ing crowd are gazing at the prisoner,
whom they think the guilty one. And
now that have come to the end of my
fearful journey l feel sick, dizzy; the
place, the sea Of faces swim round about
me-
What shall do? What shall say? If
I come forward and tell my strange
story, shall surely be put down as a
madman, but it must be done. Sudden
ly my attention is arrested by the man
in the witness box. He Is short, thick
set fellow, with a cunning fuce I fancy
/ remember dimly to have seen him
somewhere before. He is answering
questions, making statement, and his
evidence is creating profound sensa-
tion. Of SO much am conscious.
my name is Ebenezer Startup," he
is saying. II was publican by trade
and kept the Fighting Cocks at Rother
hithc. l have known the prisoner for
some time, and he knowed my 'ist'ry.
remember Mr. Leeson too. He were
young gent in some sorter trouble. His
right name was Clayton" started.
This was my wifes maiden name
prisoner came one night with another
gent, Mr.. Lestrange, who was mad
drunk. They was in the clubroom. Then
Mr.. Lesson comes, and there was Ugh
words tween i'm aud Mr.. Lestrange-
leastways Mr.. Lestrange did most O. the
talk. T'other one seemed surprised like
<11 ~, I,,%
was a 'ole in the door for Buff meetin's.
and saw all that passed Prisoner knows
did and paid me to keep quiet, but oof
became Irregular, and my conscience
prompted ME to turn queen S evidence.
was heyewitness O the crime. Pris-
oner KEEP in the background and 'ardly
opened his mouth, but he showed barker
into Lestrange's and, and Lestrange
didn't use it. b lieve g were too drunk
and too wild with passion to notice, and
Grimston fired it over his shoulder and
shot Locson dead -
What happened after this l cannot
tell. / was innocent, thank God, innO-
cent, and so overwhelming was the JOY
that swooned.
When l returned to consciousness,
found myself i'll strange room, being
watched over by-my own wife, who
gazed down anxiously and tenderly into
my face. 1t was as though the last three
years had never been and that we had
simply taken up again the broken
threads of our lives.
There were yet more discoveries i'll
store for me. My suspicious of my wife
had been utterly groundless. The hap
less Lesson, or Clayton. was her own
brother, who, fleeing from justice for
forgery, believe. had sought for help
from his sister.
Clement Grimston had been an arch
enemy from the first under the guise of
friendship. There had been some old
family quarrel between him and Clay
ton and while numbering him he had
made me the victim of his crime.
"Oh, Adela," said, chow have
wronged you! Will you ever forgive
me? Toward you l aln guilty
But knew | was already forgiven.
My wrongs and suiferings had pleaded
for me, and the past was wiped out. -
Buffalo Times.