The Northern Guardian. — 1894-03-06 (Hartlepool, Cleveland, England)

SUPPOSED AGRARIAN OUTRAGE IN CORNWALL. , "On New Year's Eve the neighbourhood of the , little village of Polperro, Cornwall, was thrown into a state of the most terrible excitement by the perpetration of one of those apparently causeless murders, ; which have gained for the Sister Isle so unenviable , a notoriety, and are commonly to be traced to some ! dispute between landlord :Ind tenant, lint in this case such an explanation is hardly tenable, as the victim, although a land'ord, has lived at peace with his tenantry for many years, and appears to have been a universal favourite with all classes. "The murdered man is Mr. Herbert Temple, of ! Tregarthen House; and, what renders the occurrence more lamentable, it wa.s within a stone's throw of his own window that the crime was committed. It appears that Mr. Temple was sent for, late on the evening of the 31st December, to visit the dying bed of an old friend of his, who lived in the village, where he met the clergyman of the parish, who accompanied him back to his house, as far as the lodge gates, where they parted company—the Rev. Mr. Emt'erley returning to the vicarage, while Mr. Temple proceeded through the park. The unfortunate gentleman's family were feeling uneasy about his prolonged absence, when they were alarmed by a cry of distress from the grounds, and, going in search, they found Mr. Temple lying face downwards in the snow, which was crimson with the blood that proceeded from a fatal wound in his back. Mr. Lionel Temple. the deceased's younger brother, was the first to discover the dead body. "The shock has had a most dreadful effect upon both the dowager Mrs. Temple, and her widowed daughter-in-law, a lady always of most delicate health, and who is, at the time of our writing, in a state , which excites the liveliest apprehensions on the part of her medical attendants." "Temple, Temple! now where have I heard that same before ?" thought Mrs. Foote, as she laid the paper down. "Of course, I remember now," and she went to a side table, where amongst a number of old letters, envelopes, and cards, she found a piece of glazed pasteboard with the name of Herbert Temple" ! engraved upon it. "Yes," she went on, triumphantly. "I am sure of , "Sure of what ?" asked her husband, looking from , another paper he was reading. I "Why, I've just been reading the account of a murder in England, and the name struck me, that IS " What name ?" "Why, the murdered man's." Do you know him ?" "Not exactly—but it's the same name as that gentleman who came here last summer and wanted to see Amaranth; not Grant, you know, but the ether." "Nonsense," growled Mr. Foote; "you're always fancying something or other.'' "But here's the very name—Herbert Temple! "Well, I suppose there are more than one of the same name in the world. Look here! don't let Amaranth get hold of that paper." "Why not !" "Well, I don't think that it's good for her. Theatrical news always upsets her, particularly about children. You know she's got a craze about brats, and she's always worse when she gets hold of an English newspaper to read. "Very well; I won't let her have it," Mrs. Foote) replied, still wondering dreamily about the name of Temple, while her husband went upstairs to his own