The news & observer. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1894-current, 1905-09-17
TIER BROTHERS REPENTANT
Ill SLAYER WON AND WED HER.
BY REV. r.. I'll. WHITAKER.

to be a new man and lead new life.
Father, how could you do it-for-
give the murderer of my dear broth
err" asked the thirteen year old
ished telling the story of his visit to
the prisoner. Il am sure | never can
forgive him. she continued.
Then my daughter" said the faith
er, you must not hope to be forgiven;
God will forgive us as We forgive 9TH
ers. The poor fellow did not know
what he was doing. He was drunk,
and therefore had no ~~,;Son. / be-
lieve he is heartily sorry for what he
did, and his intention is to lead
better life
But, papa, that does not bring my
brother back to me, nor your son to
you"
THAT is true, my daughter, but your
brother has gone up to receive his
crown, and is far happier than If he
were down here with us. If by his
death; the poor man, who fired the
shot that killed him, can be saved
it will. indeed, be victory for
heaven"
Your father is right, my daugh-
ter" said the mother. 1T will do no
good to bear malice against the poor
unfortunate young man. His mother
died of broken heart because of his
waywardness. She is in heaven, no
doubt, with our boy. Now, if we can
save her son, won't it be a joy in
heaven when we all are there?"
The girl said no more, and soon
other thoughts banished the whole
matter from her mind, for she was
TO leave her home very soon to go to
college.
Six years fed swiftly by, and the
girl was a woman just entering into
her twentieth year. She finished her
scollege course in her eighteenth year,
and had spent nearly year at home.
when she received a very pressing in
vitation from cousin, a girl of about
her age, living in a Western State, to
visit her. AS a family. her acquaint-
ance, were going to that State to re-
side. both father and mother were
anxious that their daughter should
make the trip with them. And she
did. She wrote them almost every
day, while Ell route, promising to
write them a long letter when the
journeys end had been reached. That
much desired and daily expected let
ter was not received until two weeks
had gone by; the father and mother,
in the meantime, being almost crazed
with anxiety. But, at last it came, and
this is how it commenced:
Dear Father and Mother: Since
our arrival in this delightful country
/ have been so constantly going l have
not had time to do anything but go!
Everything seems so strange to me in
these Western wildS and yet / could
not be more pleasantly situated. Uncle
lives in what they call a double log
house, but he has plenty of room, his
house is comfortably though not ele-
gantly furnished, and every thing
| 70 I'D hnt MI nv q
in all this western land.
cousin gave me a delightful recep-
ton two evenings after my arrived,
and / formed many pleasant acqualnt-
ances. Among the gentlemen whom
she invited 1 was much impressed with
one, whom cousin says, came from
the East some two or three years
ago, and about whom they seem to
know but little. Cousin says there
must be something in his past life
that people have not yet learned, for,
while he is refined and very gentle
manly, and shows by every word and
action that he has moved in the very
best circles, he does not seem to relish
the frivolties in which young people
| usually engage. He will not touch
wine nor strong drink, neither will he
play a game of cards. Yet he is very
attractive and makes one feel that
he is seriously in earnest in every
word he utters. Cousin thinks he
will be preacher some of these days.
I was very much interested in him.
and some of the girls tease me about
him, because when he was introduced
to me, and heard my name. they say
his face blanched and then blushed,
almost a scarlet. / noticed that, but
1 attributed it to the fact that / was
stranger and he thought, perhaps,
that 1 might be severe critic. The
name of the young man is Clarence
Winston, and he is engaged in very
lucrative business. Beyond that he is
but little known. Since writing
the above Cousin has come in and
informed me that Mr.. Winston wishes
me to take a ride with him. l have
asked aunt as to the propriety OF my
going and she says there can be no
objection; so I'm going out this after
noon.
Il have returned from the ride, apd
dear father. would you believe it,
my escort was no other than George
Williams, the slayer of my brother. l
never was so shocked as when, we
were well on the road, he turned to
me and said, Il know you hate me
and can never forgive me; but, L was
the drunken wretch who fired the shot
which killed your brother | could
not help it Shrieked. He did not
say a word but looking straight ahead.
seemed to be suffering great agony
At length he repeated: L know you
hate me, and it is but natural that
you should; but / felt that it was
my duty to let you know who l am
Since / have been in this State, among
these good people know ALL
like a Cain; and l have longed for
something to occur that would enable
me to throw off the mask. and let
these good people know all"
"'Oh,' l replied you don't mean
to say that you wish to let the people
know all about your past life?'
That's what / mean. / am tired
and ashamed of this false life. under
an assumed name. When l left the
prison and came out here / ought to
have told who and what / was-a
murderer and an outcast, but l was
ashamed to do that. But now, since
/ have seen you-the sister of the
man / killed, and remembering that
your good father promised to forgive
and pray for me, l intend to unmask.
mot yet awhile, l replied, not
knowing what 1 was saying.