The Potteries Examiner : — 1880-02-14 (Stoke-on-Trent, Staffordshire, England)

TORNETNI REPORT.  The engagement between Sybil Wadley/ and Septimus Randle was kept a profound secret. The squire, hitherto a hearty, open man, oppressed by misfortune, fell readily into secret ways—to Mrs. Winnow it was nothing new. Septimus came to the Hall but rarely, and then after the era of his betrothment he did not stay to dinner. His presence would have been unbearable to the miserable familiar family, so they found an excuse that, as the marriage was to be in secret, it was better not to throw any light upon the betrothment, which the too frequent presence of the accepted lover would assuredly do. Clouds of trouble seemed to be gathering thicker around the Wadlows. Herbert's disfigurement (so said the qualified physician who was called in`, would last for life; the beauty of which he was so vain, and his mother so proud, was for evermore s°The story of the fall from the tree was accepted by his medical attendants. It was no business of theirs, the man had been bruised and beaten, and he laid it to no man, why, therefore, should they proclaim the truth 1 'lt mattered little to then: how the delicate features of the squire's son became so bruised and battered. For four days Herbert lay in bed, and during this time, Sybil seldom left his side. Sybil loved her brother, and had been proud of him; the handmarks af Mark Ransom had reused her fury, and M the deep resentment she felt her own miserable position was almost forgotten. "Patience!" she said. "When Clarence is dead, NVe will think of the lower knaves." 'You will be away then," rejoined Herbert, "with —your husband." "My absence will be short," replied Sybil, meaningly. "Will you leave your husband abroad i" "I hope so." They were silent for a time, and then Herbert spoke again "Is there no other way out of our misery—no other means of pacifying this man but by sacrificing you ? " "None," was the calm reply. He is merciless; , lore 'rules him, and who would be mad enough to , reason with a man who talks of love? I will marry him, Herbert; he shall gain the prize he seeks; then snack what follows!" . Sybil spoke with an intensity that alarmed Herbert VA'adlow ; he knew her fiery nature well, and , many gloomy doubts which he had of late been re. veining in his mind returned with redoubled force. , He was no coward, but he lacked the bold, reckless ,spirit, so apparent in his sister. , "Sybil," he whispered, "you will to nothing rash. , A crime cannot save you, or us." " Whatever I do," she answered, "I will do , well:" and she would say nothing more. • • • •  "Where's Nelly ?" asked Mark, hoarsely. "She be gone to her room," replied the farmer ; "She came in awhile ago, and went atraight up stairs." 'Keep her there, then," said Mark, "for Glendown bean't safe for her." "Where have you been, Mach f" asked Mrs. Ransom. "Whet is the meaning of your blooding face and torn cloting ?" "Mother," replied Mark, with a big sob, " I were a comb' through the rood, when I saw our Nelly iso the grasp of young Mr. Herbert; and I heerd such words as set my blood on fire. He meant foul play, but I stopped him." •• And what did you do?" asked the farmer, his strong frame convulsed with rage. •• I murdered him," cried Mark; and a silence followed. 1 It IVICS broken by a low wail from Mrs. Ransom, who rank into a chair and buried her face in her hands. I meant but to beat him," pursued Mark; "but he fought well and manfully-1:U my that of him— although he was a moment before acting like a dastard." 'Mork" se'd the farmer, sternly, "ye slid well. I'd ha' Salad Dim mysel'_. I stand by you to the arms who comes to take you must not stand afore the Inu.irle of my Kiln." "Are you mad, too !" cried