Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1929-06-11

planned The circumstances now clearly
in evidence spread out the whole scene
| before us. Deep sleep had fallen on the
| destined victim. and on all beneath his
roof healthy old man. to whom
| sleep was sweet the first sound slumbers
of the night held him in their soft but
| strong embrace.
The assassin enters. through the win
| dow already prepared, into an unoccu-
| pied apartment. With noselesS foot
he PAGES the lonely hall, half-lighted by
| the moon; he winds up the ascent OF
| the stairs and reaches the door of the
chamber. OF this he moves the lock, by
soft and continued pressure, till 1t turns
on its hinges without noise, and he
enters and beholds his victim before
! him.
| The room Is uncommonly open to the
admission of light The face of the in
nocent sleeper is turned from the muir
derer, and the beams of the moon. rest
| ing on the gray locks OF his aged tenn
! pie, show him where to strike. The fatal
| blow is given! The victim passes, with
! out a struggle or q motion, from the
repose of sleep to the repose OF death!
1t Is the assassins purpose to make
sure work, and he plies the dagger,
though it is obvious that life had been
| destroyed by the blow of the bludgeon.
He even raises the aged arm that he
may not fail in his aim at the heart,
and replaces 1t again over the wounds
of the poniard! To finish the picture,
he explores the wrist for the pulse! He
| feels for 1t and ascertains that 1t beats
no longer! @
It is accomplished. The deed is done.
| He retreats, retraces his steps to the
window passes out through 1t asg he
came in and escapes. He has done the
| IL
| has heard him. The secret Is his own.
and it is safe!
All, gentlemen, that was q dreadful
mistake. Such a secret can he safe no.
where The whole creation OF God has
neither nook nor corner where the
guilty can bestow II and say 1t is safe.
Not to speak OF that Eye which pierces
through all DISCUSSES and beholds every
thing as In the splendor of noon, such
secrets of guilt are never safe from de-
lection, even by men.
True it is, generally speaking. that
murder will out" True it Is that Prov
idence hath so ordained, and doth so
govern things, that those who break the
great law of heaven by shedding mans
blood seldom succeed in avoiding dis
covery. Especially in case exciting so
much attention as this discovery must
come, and will come, sooner or later. A
thousand eyes turn at once to explore
every man, everything, every circum-
stance connected with the time and
place: a thousand ears catch every
whisper; thousand excited minds In
| tensely dwell on the scene, shedd ng all
| their light. and ready to kindle the
slightest circumstance into a blaze Of
discovery.
Meantime the guilty soul cannot keep
| its own secret. It is false to itself or
rather 1t feels an irresistible impulse OF
conscience to be true to itself. 1t labors
under it's guilty possession and knows
not what to do with It, The human
heart was not made for the residence Of
such an inhabitant. 1t finds itself
preyed on by torment which it dares
not acknowledge to God or man. A vul-
ture is devouring it and 1t can ask no
sympathy or assistance either from
| heaven or earth.
The secret which the murderer pos
! sesses soon comes to possess him, and