The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1898-12-11


~ with ar utterly inconsequential remark.
Mr.. Helston's luggage had been brought
on from the station by fly, but Aunt Dor
cas- had been afraid to leave him alone
with Miriam to go and see to its unpacking
and the disposal of it's contents. She was
afraid lest by some accider tai word. some
slip en- Johns part, glimmering of the
truth should dawn upon the innocent girl
whom they had for so many years conspired
together to deceive.
Longing to have few words alone with
her brother, who seemed loath to part with
Miriam even for few minutes, Aunt Dor
cas- at last felt it time to assert her author
ity.
I'm tired tonight, Miriam, dear" she
said Wont you go and see to things for
me this evening? You know how careless
Anne is. See that the garden gate is locked
and look to the windows yourself, dear"
Miriam nodded and went off to take her
aunt's place and superintend the proceed
ings of Anne, the housemaid. whose care
lessness was a source of constant terror to
the nervous mistress of Laburnum Villa
John Helston and his sister were left
alone
When Miriam was out of hearing Aunt
Dorcas brought her chair close to where her
brother was sitting.
Il have kept it from her. John, all these
years. she said. Shall we be able to do
so still?"
Pray Cod we may" answered the man.
But the police will know: you have to
report yourself. Will it not get about SOON
er or later?'
Il have guarded against that. I am not
going to live here This will be your house:
l shall only be a visitor. l have taken
rooms for myself in London and that will
be my abode and so / shall not have to
report myself in this district at all. 1 can
be here great deal with you and Miriam
without running the risk of letting our
neighbors know that I am an ex-convict"
And this alias-this John Helston?- it
is found out may not that get you into
trouble?
Il am only John Helston to you and
Miriam-I have taken my rooms in London
in my own name"
ooh, John, my brother. how terribly you
have changed-how terribly you must have
sufferedv'
Yes; sometimes l thought that I should
never live to serve my sentence At first in
my mad rage / thought of finding a means
to kill myself. Then 1 thought of Miriam
and of you, and the hope that some day the
truth would be made known and my name
would be cleared from this infamy gave me
courage"
But it never can be now, John?"
There is more chance of it now that I
am free than there was while l was at Port
land. And l am rich now; the money that
came to us from our fathers brother four
years ago makes us independent We are
rich. Dorcas, with this twenty thousand
pounds. oh, what a mockery it seemed to
me when you came to me in prison and told
me. 1 was glad for your sake and Miriam 8.
but to mean innocent man in a prison cell
it seemed the crueest of mockeries All
If Lille had known that there was all this
money coming to me she might have
He stopped suddenly. and bent an eager
gaze on his sisters face
you have never heard OF her or from
her? You have never had the slightest clew
to where she is?' he asked
Never, John! When she went away
leaving her little one with me, she left only
those few lines had to send you when you
kept writing to her, and wondering why
you had no answer"
"Oh, it was cruel-cruel! NV wife-the
woman 1 trusted-the woman 1 would have
laid down my life for-to desert her child
within a few weeks of my unjust sentencer'
1T may have been the truth she told
John. We were all terribly poor then She
had an offer, she said. of going back to her
old profession as a governess in wealthy
family. She could not let it be known that
she was the wife of a convicted felon she
could not take her child with her-and
So"
'And so she deserted it and left it
burden on your hands Well, / mustn't
think about her. Thank God I have my
daughter-that must be my &C nsolation now
in what remains to me of life"
Aurt Doroas rose and went into the house.
and John Helston sat by the darkening river
and thought over the great tragedy that had
cut him off from all that made life worth
living in the days of his young manhood
Sixteen years ago he had been a clerk in
the office of an old-f fashioned solicitor who
carried on business as Ramsden & Co. in
enc of the side streets that run out of East
cheap down towards the Thames.
He had as his fellow-clerk smart, rack
city young fellow named Laxton. Jim Lax
ton was a single man and good-Iooking
and was very proud of the reputation he
had of being up to every game under the
sun" But he thought himself cleverer
imam he was. ana some OF the men ne met
in the haunts he frequented after office
hours got the better of him in betting and
gambling transactions to such an extent
that one fine day ne found himself in des-
perate straits for eco
He had already robbed his employer and
the sharks who were preying on him found
ii out, and used their knowledge to make
him their accomplish in a cleverly-planned
burglary. Old Mr.. Ramsden. among his
other eccentricities, was in the habit of
keeping large quantity of valuable jew
elry upon which he had advanced money to
clients Che was a money-lending soicitor)
in a safe in his office.
1t was arranged (the story came out when
one of the gang turned queens evidence)
that LaXton should pretend to leave one
night at O'clock as usual, and slip back
and conceal himself. Old Mr.. Ramsden al
ways left after his clerks, and locked every
thing up, and handed the keys to the house,
keeper, who lived at the top of the prem
ises. Late at night, when the place was en-
tirely deserted, Laxton was to open the
shutters and the window and lower rope
into the back yard. by means of which one
of the gang. an accomplished burglar, could
climb in. He would then force open the
safe and get the diamonds and the jewelry,
and he and Laxton. assisted by confeder-