The county record. [volume] (Kingstree, S.C.) 1885-1975, 1904-06-23

actly alike. having scrutlnlZeu eacu
very carefully with the aid Of read
ing glass. 1 handed them back to my
father, who paused, as if expecting me
to make some comment, but remained
silent.
"Pierto Lando," said my father.
was Doge of Venice from 1888 to
1915: so you will agree with me that
abundance of sequins such as these
must have been in circulation in Ven
ice when your ancestor, Roger True
man, was there a century later"
Lrdded assent, and nv father con
tinued:
Il am informed by John Adams
(than whom a more faithful servant
never lived) that your uncle, on the
first day of his return here, seized
the opportunity while you and l were
preparing for dinner, to descend, unob-
served by us, into the crypt. 1t seems
he asked old John for lighted lamp;
and John, at loss to know what your
uncle wanted with it (for it was broad
daylight. as you know, with pardon
able curiosity, observed his move
ments, and was surprised to find that
he went boldly down into the crypt.
So little conscious was old John that
he was playing the part of a spy that
he soon afterwards followed your un-
Gle, and found him standing, lamp
in hand, in front Of the Abbot's Cell,
probing between the bricks with a
pocket knife. John asked your uncle
if he could assist him in any way, who
thereupon turned upon him in great
anger and alarm, cursing him for q
meddlesome old fool. A little later
your uncle gave old John two sover-
eigns, and told him not to think SER
iously of what he had said; that he
liked to express himself emphatically.
The incident impressed our old servant
as strange occurrence, but aroused in
him no suspicion of foul play. When,
however, on the occasion Of his visit
here with his, wife, your uncle was
observed to go down into the crypt
a second time, and to remain there the
greater part Of one night, old John
feared that some sinister design
against my interests must be afoot;
yet he dared not again follow him.
and refrained from reporting the cir
cumstance to me lest, my brother hav-
ing gone there with my permission,
l should resent the imputation which
the giving of such information would
necessarily imply"
Again my father paused, as If ex-
pecting me to remark upon his nara
tive: but l uttered no word, and he
went on:
"On visiting the crypt next morning
John found that sufficient bricks had
been removed to allow Of entrance
into the cell, and entering there him
self for the first time he observed
that the place contained several very
heavy chests. Concluding that it was
merely curiosity which had induced
your uncle to visit the crypt, John did
not go down there again until the day
before you went to London, when the
chests were all empty, and he picked
up two of these seQuins just outside
the CELL The third sequin was found
by a housemaid in the bed room oc-
cupied by your uncle and aunt, and
was brought by her to me.'
A long silence ensued, which 10Th
of us seemed unwilling to break. At
last l said
"And you are satisfied that uncle
Sam stole those sequins"
unfortunately, 1 am" he replied,
bowling his head. Il wish to Heaven
l could have arrived at some other
conclusion. But it was not possible;
the evidence was too clear and ad-
mitted of no alternative"
"The evidence is not clear to me.
Might it not be that some person other
than uncle Sam is the thief-old John
himself, for instance-and that he Is
diverting suspicion of the real thief
to your brother:'
"Ah. my boy, l have thought deeply
of all that" said my father, shaking
his head sadly. John Adams Is an
old man who believes he is without
a relation in the world. He was In
YOUR grandfather's service when he
was quite young boy, years before
| was born, and has always shown
himself truthful and honest. He does
not want for money, for not long ago
he told me that he had $500 in the
bank. the result of his lifelong econo-.
my and self-denial. Now that he is
old, and visibly nearing the close OF
his life, it is quite improbable that
he would 60 ont Of his way to rob
me of a large sum Of money which
could De of very small use to him.
Besides, he was always an admirer
of your uncle Sam; he frequently asked
me for news Of him, and expressed
much pleasure when Informed that
he was coming to England. And
these are the circumstances OF the