The Warwickshire Herald. — 1887-01-27 (Birmingham, West Midlands, England)

CHAPTER XXXV.  CHARLES HARRISON had been up to the Castle with a message from his father to the agent, and it was late before he got away on his return journey, for he was a great favourite with all the men about the place, and most of them wanted to have some talk with him. He had even engaged in a game of odd trick with the austere butler, and won some small portion of that functionary's hardearned wealth, He had been given more than one glass of cheering drink, and he set forth when the time came, eminently happy, if ' not contented. Not but what this was a very unusual thing for Charles ; his general habit of mind was sorrowful, for his was not of a nature to quickly change, if ever He had seen Polly Stobbs pining for his brother, as he well knew; and a dreadful suspicion crept in at last that there was only too good reason for it. If John would but marry her, Charles thought—though the bare idea was bitter anguish to him—all else would be well, but now—John had only recently come home, having grown more dissolute and revolutionary since his stay in town. and he showed not the slightest sign of interest in Polly, nor the smallest desire to help her. And on this night in question, we see Charles walking hastily, though Rot very steadily, home by the pathway across the fields. There is a moon, and it is easy enough to get along—you can even see the cattle dotted throughout the big pastures. and the great far-off hills loom blackly on from behind.  There on the right is the black plantation, still bearing about it something of the horror which the evil deeds of a few years back endued it with. There it is, the tall larch-trees springing up as if eager to touch the heavens, the soft whispering of the night wind lmong the branches, the dark undergrowth impenetrable to the eye Charles pauses a moment and looks down at the scene, shuddering a little as he calls to mind the dark deed done there, when the ‘Duke of Countyholme and Peter Stobbs were murdered. He is not by nature superstitious, but there are few people who would like to be aloae at night in such a place; and as the breeze comes soughing up a little stronger, with something like a melancholy howl, he starts with alarm and chill terror, for there on the outskirts of the wood he can see a moving form  _ Softly it seems to glide into the wood and is lost to sight. Charles is no coward, but the strong kink and the remembrance of the murder combine to make him superstitious and inclined to run; soon. however, common sense gains sway, and with heating heart he walks forward to investigate, just where old Peter Stobbs and his daughter had done tiw same thing on that fatal night never to be fortten.  " Some poachers, perhaps," thought Charles, and he tried to nerve himself to do his duty if he should be called on ; but now he, too, is on the outskirts of the wood, after tramping through the wet grass and marshy ground, and there by the very way where he had seen the figure disappear, he presses forward, not unalarmed.  There is a disturbance already among the pheasants, who are flackering off here and there, and rocketing away overhead to the quiet domicile of another cover. Forward goes Charles Harrison, until he suddenly trips over a hi it, and falls flat, not hurting himself, but in the nick of time to see without being seen.  (To be continued.)