Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1907-03-01

ing by. and hearing him, was neve
before uttered. Incoherent sometimes
and utterly wild, it was nevertheless!
full of touches Of sublime human feel
ing which characterized the holiest as
pirations of love, and which, while the!
warm and kindle, purify at the same
time, and nobly elevate. His prayer
was to his departed wife. He prayed
her forgiveness for a thousand un.
kindnesses-a thousand instances O.
neglect-a querulous rebuke-of posi-
tive injustice, with all which he Dit
terly reproached himself. Then fol.
lowed a tender and really exquisite de-
scription Of the humble and secre'
pleasures which they had known to.
gether-the joys of their childhood ant
Youth, and the enumeration Of many
| little incidents Of domestic occurrence
/ of which he now reminded the hover
| ing spirit Tears poured from him
freely as he repeated them, and, for g
| few moments, the wild man was abb
solutely softened into calm; but the
Change was terrific which described
her cruel murder; how, stricken down
BY the brutal soldiery, she lay tramp
led upon the floor. dying at last In tor
ture, with her infant, yet unborn, add
| ing it's prayers to that Of It's mother
for the vengeance to which he had
devoted himself.
This brought him to the point wher
the trial must come on with his victim
He started to his feet, and rushed
madly towards Hastings. The SER
geant, to whom the latter part Of the
prayer had taught his danger, pre-
pared to fly in terror. But the swift
foot Of the maniac was after him, and
his strong arm hurled him backward
upon the grave, over which the victim
stumbled headlong, sprawling hope
| lessly upon his face. His heart entire
ly failed for the moment He cried
out aloud in his desperation, as he be-
held the maniac bounding towards
him. He cried aloud, and the echoes
only replied; and a white owl that
hooted from the cypress over the
grave, moaned mockingly in answer to
his cry. The fierce executioner seiz-
ed him with a grasp which defied and
disdained all resistance. He dragged
him to the grave-stretched him out
upon 1t, placed his knee upon his
breast, and with that dreadful screech
which fifty, accompanied his move.
ments, he drew the always barred knife
from the belt which contained 1t.
Mercy! mercy!" implored the SER
geant, while his shout Of terror-a
voice beyond his own-rang wildly
through the swamp and forest, craving
1t in vain.
"You showed her none!-none! You
struck her down-your foot was upon
her. and she died under 1t. Come
comei"
The maniac was impatient for his
prey, and he yelled scornfully at the
impotent struggles of his victim. AT
calling to them from the swamp. The
wild man, with all the caprice of In
sanity, sprang to his feet as he heard
1t; and, seizing that moment OF re-
lease, the sergeant also started up, and
rushed away to the wood in the direc-
ton of the voice.
The maniac looked at the fugitive
scornfully. and for brief space did
not offer to pursue; but the delay was
only momentary. In another instant
Hastings heard the bounding tramp OF
his heavy feet-he heard the ominous
screech Of his enemy, speaking death
to his imagination; and q fresh speed
came to him from his renewed ter
rors. He shouted ever, as he flew, to
the approaching person, and had the
satisfaction to find that his cry was
responded to by the voice nearer al
hand. He rushed into the little wood
which separated him from the mire
through which he had groped his way
before with so much difficulty. The
wretch prayed as he ran-probably for
the first time in his life-and the colo
sweat trickled over his face as he ut
tered his first fervent appeal to his
God.
The prayer was unheard-certainly
unheeded. The maniac was upon him.
and the first bound which the fugitive
made into the mire Of the swamp, was
precipitated by the hand Of the aVen-
ger. Rushing into the mud after him.
the maniac grappled with him there
Though hopeless of his own strength
in the contest with one so far his su-
perior. and onlv desirous OF saving
himself unhurI until Davis-for 1t was
he who now approached them-should
come up to his relief, Hastings pre-
sented stout front, and resolutely en-
gagged in the conflict. He shouted all
the while the struggle was going on
and his shouts were chorused Dy the
dreadful yells of his murderer.
Come to me quickly, John Davis
uuickly-quickly-f Gods sake,
come, or am murdered"
Come! GOMEZ" cried the murderer
in mockery: and the sound OF his VIC
TINS voice died away in a hoarse CUR
thrust down the head Of the unhappy
| wretch deep into the mire, where he
held It as long as the body continued
to show signs of life. Davis at last
came up.
Where is the prisoner, Frampton?-
where is Hastings?"
"Ho! no! no! See you not-see you
| not?-he is here-look!" And he
pointed him to the legs Of the victim
which seemed to move still above the
mire.
"Great God! man, pull him out-pull
him out, for Heavens sake, F'ramp-
Creeker, Mortified by what he saw
bounded into the mire himself for the
extrication of the dying man. But, a,
his approach, the wild savage thrus,
the victim still more deeply into the
ooze, until II was evident, from the
quiet Of the body, long before Davis
could extricate him, that all life hao
departed.
"Why have you done this, Tramp
TOM cried the aroused and disap,
pointed partisan to the murderer; bu,
the maniac only replied by another OF
| his terrible screeches as, bounding
out Of the mire, he took his way back
to the grave where his wife lay buried
| The feelings of Davis were melancholy
and self-reproachful enough, as he re-
turned slowly to the encampment. He
felt, in some degree, as II he had beer
the murderer of the wretched captive
He was guilty, in one sense. and might
be severely punished for breach OF
trust and neglect of duty; but the Sc
cret of his error was pretty much his
own, and he had not the courage tc
confess it. The maniac was not the
rerson to reveal it. His insanity made
him needless of the offenses which he
had no motive himself to punish
Enough for him, that he had done
something more towards the satisfac'
ton of the one passion Of his life-the
avenging of his wife's murder.
CHAPTER XXXII.
"Oh thought may tread that lonely
/ wild,