The Wilmington daily Republican. (Wilmington, Del.) 1890-1902, 1897-05-10
A MISSING M"

One Saturday morning was sitting at
my desk opening my correspondence when
I came across letter which conveyed to
me news that considerably shocked me.
My old friend and client, Sir Douglas Rem
wood, was dead, and the letter announcing
the sad intelligence was from his nephew
and ran thus:
COTTAGE, 6taines, June l.
DEAR Mr.. GEARY-I have to inform you Of
the sad death Of my uncle. He passed away at
10 o'clock last night. 1t was all terribly sud
den. He caught o violent chill last week,
which developed into inflammation Of tho
lungs. We sent for DR.. Holmes, the leading
doctor here, but he could do no good, and the
end came last evening.
Iwrite to you because l think 1t desirable
that you as the family advisor should come
down here at once to arrange for the funeral,
and also to go into other matters connected
with my poor uncle's estate. Yours faithfully,
MARK REDWOOD.
"Ahai' said l to myself as concluded
the reading of the letter. "The other mat
ters which Mr.. Mark refers to are closely
connected with himself He Is the next of
kin. Sir Douglas died unmarried. This
means 100000 year for my young
friend"
I then proceeded to continue my work
Of opening the morning letters, and find
ing that there was nothing of urgent i'm
portance therein I determined to act on
Mark Renwoods suggestion and go down
to Staines without delay.
sent to my head clerk and told him Of
my intention, bidding him also to find out
when there was train from Paddington
He soon returned with tho information
that could catch good one at 80, and
accordingly drove to Kensington and col
leoted what required for my journey, and
an hour later was seated In a first class
carriage on my way to Staines.
l had announced my coming by tele-
graph from Paddlngton, and was there
fore not surprised to find young Renwood
waiting for me when alighted.
He was tall, thin young man, with
strong, aquiline features and small, gray
eyes had known him since ho was at
Elton, and he held out his hand to me with
q cordial SMILE
II am delighted to see you come so soon,
Mr.. Geary," he said, speaking in hearty
tone, "but wish you had come on more
joyous business. This is sad affair in
decd"
"Sad enough" rejoined, land yet we
must oil die some day or other-clse where
would the young ones come imp
The cottage was about half mile from
tho station, and our journey took us along
the river bank. AS we passed the boat
house on the slope be said in low voice:
'This is the spot where my poor uncle
contracted the chill which caused his end.
He and were walking along this path ono
evening when We heard cry for help,
and the next moment child's head ap-
peared above the water. /, of course,
would have plunged in, but us you have
perhaps noticed am suffering from tenn
porary sprain, and I could not swim an
inch. My uncle, knowing this, threw off
his coat, and swimming to the spot where
the child was fast sinking rescued it just
as tho youngster came up for the third
time
"A heroic action indeed, considering his
time of life," I said.
sit was heroic action, but 1t cost him
his life. I begged him directly we reached
home to go to bed, but he refused saying
that he would simply change his clothes
ard have bath, and then he as fit as pos
Eible Alas, he was mistaken. Next morn
ing he said no had caught cold and in tho
evening he was so shaky that went for
the doctor. Then followed inflammation
of the lungs-and then-death.
''This DR.. Holmes" queried, "is he
a really good mann"
II believe he is the best doctor in these
parts. Had known things were so seri-
Gus I would have wired to town for our
own man, but never dreamed that such
was the cnse"
Poor old gentleman" said. And
he was to have been married soon, was he
notP'
Eyes. That is tho saddcst part of tho
business. He looked forward so much to
giving up the state of bachelordom in
which he had lived, and now-well, it's
no use talking of the past"
GAN the same" could not help re-
marking dryly, at is not such terrible
thing for you that this marriage did not
take place. Had it done 20 there might
have been an heir to the estate who would
have cut you out most completely"
He looked up with hasty glance.
"Oh, Mr. Geary," he said, II cannot
think of things like that at time like
this. My uncle was father to me, and
better than many fathers. am well nigh
stunned by the blow. Money matters just
now seem to me very small indeed"
"Well, well, said somewhat testify,
1--WE cannot do without money, whether
we think of it or not. But here we are ut
- Cottage, for I suppose this is the
place"
"This is the place." he answered.
"Come in"
followed him into the cottage and up
the stairs until we came to the room where
the dead baronet lay.
went slowly toward the bed on which
my poor old friend and client rested, and
drawing aside the sheet which covered tho
dead face took a last, long look on the fea-
lures l knew 50 well.
was reused from my reflections by the
entrance Of young Renwood, who came up
to the bedside and pulled out his cigar case,
several papers dropping from his pocket
ut the time.
Have a cigar" he said as I stopped to
pick up the papers. And then seeing u
shade of annoyance that l could not con-
ceal cross my face at tho thought of smok
Ing at such a time and in such place he
said hastily: Perhaps we'd letter not