Northern Weekly Gazette. — 1908-06-27 (Stockton-on-Tees, Cleveland, England)

NORTHERN WEEKLY GAZETTE.  "I refuse to supply information to intending murderers," she said firmly. The eyes of the silver-haired woman blazed with fury._ "Think well, Madam, lest her fate be yours  also." "I have decided. I refuse once and for ever." Clearly the tones rang out in the vaulted room. A hurried consultation followed, and then a stern voice commanded: "Bring in the electric chair !" Almost before a finger could be raised in defence, the poor little woman—too weak to resist—had been strapped down and electricity had done its work. Nora Newton's brain worked rapidly now. She felt that in a few ,moments a similar fate might be hers. Even now a movement was being made in her direction. Instinctively she seized a chair and raised it high above her head. Acting on a half formed plan, she flung it with all her strength straight at the flaring lamp. Crash went the globe. The flame flickered for a brief moment showing a score of arms outstretched towards her—a shot from a revolver rang out— then darkness !  Feeling her way to the door, the brave girl dragged it open and slipped out, curses and oaths ringing in he ears. Quickly she darted along the corridor and up the flight of stairs she had descended so short a time ago. The yells of the baffled men as they fell over each other in the darkness reached her from below. Onward and upward ehe sped until she gained the attic, hurrying footsteps in hot pursuit. It was toe late to turn back now, the murderous mob were already at the foot of the stairs leading to the attic. Every moment she expected them to burst into the room. One, two, three more steps she took across the room, then flung herself in complete exhaustion on the floor, expecting every moment to be caught like a rat in a trap. Bang! Something gave way. She felt herself going down, down, down. It took away her breath. She had pressed a secret spring in the wall as she fell exhausted on the floor. Quick as thought she closed the door so providentially opened for her and bolted it on the inside, swooning away with the horrible maniacal yells still ringing in her ears. in a few moments she recovered and found to her horror that her pursuers were sounding the walls of the attic in order to discover her method of escape. Then, stretching out her hand, she touched the side of the narrow tunnel in which she found herself. On she sped in the darkness. On—on—no matter where, so long as went further away from those murdering fiends I She stumbled and fell, raised herself again, and sped away in the darkness. On—on—she knew not whither, expecting every step might be her last on earth. Half-choked with the evil odour of the tunnel, her strength was quickly ebbing away. On—on—and then a dim light glimmered in the distatce. Redoubling her efforts, she pressed forward until she reached the spot. Far away in the distance the tunnel was lighter still. She thanked God for her wonderful power of endurance as she drew yard by yard nearer to that welcome beam of light. It seemed hours before, dazed and more dead than alive, she came full up against a bank of loose earth in which the tunnel terminated. With her, hands she dug out the wet soil and at last crawled into the light of day and flung herself dead beat on to the bank of a tiny stream. And there they found her, lying soaked with rain. They carried her home, and though she informed the police, they never discovered the mysterious house which she described to them. Always when she reads of a foul murder or a daring robbery, her thoughts revert to the masked • youths gathered rotted the hexagonal table, and • to the poor misguided nephew who disappeared so • mysteriously a few days after her terrible adventures.  'The special, sole and deepest theme of the world's and man's history, whereto all other thomes ate suborndinatted, remaiins the a:lnflict of unhelid end Ix4if. All ecpcxhs Wherein belief prevails, under what form it may, are splendid, heart-elerating, fruitful far oontemporarics and posterity. All epochs, on the cantrazy, wherein linbelietf, under we farm soevter, maintains Its sorry vietery, should they eTen far a monvait glitter with a Sham splendour, vanish from the eyes of posterity; ben* no one &looses to burden himself with study of taro uathalitifFae—auchiss -...m