Year: 1859

elm himself.


When at last he venturod, under COW
er of dark fir wood, TO stop his furious
course, he began to consider the best
means of avoiding discovery, with no
small anxiety as to the issue. His best
hope was in the fact, that none had been
present during the murder but the blind
girl, who could not identify him; and
that not a single inhabitant of Inverary
had seen him, except her dead father
himself He was now not very far from
the house of his kinsman, where he
originally intended to have passed the
night. The time he had spent so fatally
in the inn at Inverary had not extended
beyond an hour, and the rapid pace at
which he had traversed the last ten
miles had fully brought him to the time
when he would, according to his ordi.
nary style of travelling, have reached
his destination. lie therefore resolved
to proceed thither at once, as if he were
only arriving from the village where he
had left his servants, and to trust that
no one would ever suspect him of hav-
ing made his unfortunate detour into
the domain of his enemy. This plan
succeeded perfectly; he was expected by
his cousin, and next morning his SER
want Joined him, having left his COM
rade doing well; so that no doubt was
for moment entered that he had ever
deviated from the road he had been ex-
pected to take, and he had once more
started for Edinburgh before the news
of the murder had spread beyond Inve-
rary. Nevertheless, when the fact did
become known, it created great sen.
sation, chiefly owing to the peculiar cir.
cumstances Of the Casa murder com.
mi tted. by an unknown'Assassin in pres
eRad bfaOne sole witness, and that one
depsp2,a of the power of seeing the
murderer, was, even in those days of
bloodshed, striking event, and the mys
terious escape of the criminal seemed
altogether unaccountable.


The Marquis of Argyle, who was a
his castle on the fatal night, left NJ
stone unturned in his efforts to discove,
the perpetrator of the deed being stimu
lated to unusual activity in the search
by the strong suspicion he entertained
that the assassin was in some way con
nccted with the family of his foes, the
Ilamiltons. This he gathered from tht
conversation between the murderer anC
his victim, which Elspeth detailed wore
for word but it afforded no clue what
ever to the actual individual, and Ken
elm himself was never suspected.


After few weeks of useless investi
cation, the search was given up; but thu
details of the murder were carefully re
corded by the court of justice, and the
Lord of Argyle declared that if ever in
his lifetime the assassin were discover
ed, he would bring him to the scaffold
be the interval ever so long. Elspetf
found home in the Marquis's house
hold, after the good old fashion of those
times, which recognized a claim on the
part of all the helpless and afflicted of
the clan to find refuge with the family
of their chief, and Kenelm had, to all
appearance, escaped with perfect impu
nifty.


Yet he, gay and reckless as he seemed
was secretly haunted by one dark fore
boding, which never left him, night OF
day. Campbell was not the first man he
had slain in the course of his stormy
career; but he was the first he had n,ur.
dered; the first whose life he had taken
otherwise than in honorable warfare
and already the unfailing retribution of
actual crime had commenced in the
deep secret of his heart. Wherever he
went, alone or in crowds, from the hour
when the low solemn warning of the
blind girl came to him, as he stood with
his feet dabbling in the blood of her
father, he heard that voice ringing in
his ear, and telling him that vengeance
would surely find him yet, and the
sleepless justice of the Invisible track
him out when lest he looked for it. Not
even the joy bells, on his wedding morn
ing, could drown that ominous whisper
in his soul, nor the sweet tones of the
gentle Lady Ellen, while she murmur-
ed her bridal VOWS. Still was it sound
ing there, when the feeble cry of his
rst-born spoke of new ties to make life
sweet; aud, later still, he heard it through
the firing of the salutes that greeted
him as ambassador on a foreign shore.
Years passed on, most Of which were
spent at one Of the continental courts;
and when, at last, he returned with his
wife and family to Edinburgh, the mur-
der of the innkeeper had not been
thought of by any one for long time
past.


One day, about a month after his ar
rival in the Scottish capital, Hamilton
was walking along the most fashionable
part of the old town, where the houses
of the nobility were chiefly to be found,
when his attention was attracted by a
fray, which was going on in the streets
between two young men. Such a sight
was by no means uncommon in those
days; but the fury of the lads was so
great, that it was evident some serious
mischief would ensue if they were not
separated. Hamilton, whose rank in
the city entitled him to interfere, at once
rushed in between them, calling to them
in loud voice to desist Immediately
from further quarrelling, and with a
firm grasp of his strong hands on the
shoulder of each, he sent them reeling
to the opposite sides Of the street.


The affair had collected a considerable
crowd, and Hamilton's rank and posi-
ton were we'll known amongst them, SC