Year: 1878

resolutely determined to carry out the project,
risking failure or success. II succeeded. The
night was intensely dark, n storm was raging,
the muttcr of thunder drowned the noise made
in removing the stones. A break was made
in the wall. | and my companion, who had
long before opened communication with me
! through the thin compartment dividing the
cells, passed through: we were free.
''The rest was not difficult The night was
so dark that we left the city without being OBJ
served but with morning would come light
and our parti-colorcd prison garb would be-
tray us. My companion re-assured me on
this point Ten miles from the city, in an OBJ
scure swamp, he had friend on whom he
could rely, he said. and we reached this mans
cabin before day light On the next night,
| wearing a suit of his cast-of clothes, set out
for home. l remember well my feeling rs /
| approached. / had Travelled on foot, and
| came in sight of the familiar fields the grove,
and the house peeping from foliage, just at
nightfall. My heart throbbed. poor con-
vict, degraded by vile punishment, was
about to hold in my arms, clasped to my rags
| Annie!


at was only long after dark that dared to
steal from the woods into the house by side
door. All had retired. 1 ascended the broad
staircase with its carved mahogany baluster,
! in sort of dream. | opened the door of
! Annies chamber, in which night lamp was
burning dimly. She was sleeping uneasily,
and | heard her sigh but an object by the
bedside suddenly arrested my attention. 1t
was n cradle in which a little rosy-faced babe
was asleep, tapped in lace. At this sight
| thrill passed through me, and felt the blood
rush to my face. / stopped and caught the
child to my heart At the same instant Annie
woke with start recognized me, chung TO
me with sobs of joy, aud | clasped mother
Cnd baby in my arms, close to my breast, COW
ering them with kisses, and crying like n
| child.


Before morning l had left home far be-
! hind and reaching n wayside railway station
about sunrise. took the northward bound train
which stopped in passing for II moment. 1
had no apprehensions. In the well-dressed
gentleman, with glossy travelling satchel and
| clean shayen face, no one was likely TO recog-
nize the escaped convict. All had been ar
ranged | would find safe retreat write in
due time to Annie. and she was to dispose of
my estate privately in the manner l indicated,
90 to New Orleans, take the steamer 10 Hava-
ma and thence TO New York and rejoin me-
During my imprisonment she had adopted the
little son of a poor half brother of mine who
| had died recently, and this child was to ac-
company her you know him as my nephew
Charles The baby was my little Annie. 1
need only add that in due time every arrange
ment was carried out. purchased this small
cottage in what l supposed to be an undscov-
cradle nook Annie came we have lived
TRANQUILITY but some evil fate has betrayed
me. My retreat has been discoved. l hoped
TO spend my last days here with my dear
! Annie and my children, but Providence has
1 otherwise decreed. | am once more in the
clutch Of the law, but, thank God. the degrad-
ing dress and life of prisoner cannot degrade
an honest man


He stopped suddenly and listened. Through
the little window I saw Mrs. Manthorpe and
Annie entering the gate in the paling fence
Charles following with the baby on his shoul
der. All were laughing and Annie was clap
ping her hands to amuse the cEild, who crow
ed delghtedly, while the fond mother turned
her head and looked at the little group with n
smile of happiness. | shudered. AT the
same moment, heavy tramp! tramp tramp.
came up the staircase. 1t was the police of
ticer coming TO end my interview with Man
| thorpe


The key was inserted in the lock. it turned
and the door opened


Come on-time's up" said the brutal
voice.


From below came the sound of footballs
and laughter. A chill passed through me as l
heard little Annie exclaiming:


Papa papa where are You, papa Oh!
we have had such happy day"


looked at Mnnthorpe. He was as pale as
death, but advancing toward the police officer,
said in a firm voice,


Ready"


These scenes took place in the month of
September. Early in November after an ex-
tended hunting excursion in the Alleghanies,
l WAS back at my friend B-'s, and one
morning set out with heavy heart to visit the
bereayed family


Il was never more depressed; indeed, the
hunting excursion spoken of had been made
to distract my thoughts, if possible from the
last scene which had not the heart to speak
of further. l remember signing YEARLY as
rode toward the small mountain cottage,
thinking that a world in which such events as
this occurred. must be "out of joint :" and
the bleak November day was in unison with
my musings. l reached the cottage and dis
mounted. The trees We're bare, and the vine
covering the porch leafless all was desolate.
The place seemed deserted. The gate swung
mournfully upon its hinges in a light breeze
that was blowing As l dragged my feet
toward the house, the dead leaves rustled un-
der my tread. l reached the porch, crossed
it, and with shrinking heart knocked at the
door


Come in :" said a calm and cheerful voice,
which made me start, sending the blood to
my heart. Steps were heard in the familiar
sitting-room, the door opened, and Manthorpe
stood before me-


must have given way to wild ebullition
of Joy. l caught both Manthorpes hands and
exclaimed,


You"


A calm smile came to his face rs he drew
me in.


YES. | am home once more, my dear
friend, and have no longer anything to fear, q"


All the little family were assembled in the
cheerful room, before the blazing fire. They
greeted me with affectionate warmth, and
then heard Manthorpes story, which may
be summed up in a very few words. He had
been conducted to the State Prison from
which he had escaped, but instead of being
confined in a cell, he was ushered into the of
flee of The Superintendent, who. without
speaking, held out to him an official paper. He
took it and glanced at it, found it was par
don from the Executive, and handed it back


Il will not accept n pardon; l am inno-
cent, he said.


Read it," said the tacturn official.


Manthorpe read it, and found that the par
don was based upon the statement under oath,
by Miss Rurick that in the encounter with
Girardet he had simply defended himself, and
that the deceased had come TO his death by
falling and striking his head upon a sharp
flint in the road. When Miss Rurick made
this statement she was dying of yellow fever
1t was the last cry of guilty conscience seek
ing relief from remorse. Written down and
officially certified to, the statement had been
forwarded to the Executive, prompt pardon
was sent to await Manthorpe if arrested; he
was free. His first step was TO return TO the
parish in which he had been convicted, and
visit the Circuit Judge then holding court.
Three days after he went to the Court House,
entered the prisoners dock, and saw in front
of him the same jury which had tried him,
the Judge having summoned them at his re-
quest 10 these the Judge presented the
statement of Miss Ru. 'ek, and without retir-
ing from their seats the J~-y rendered a YER
dict, Not Guilty A week afterwards Man
thorpe was back at his home in the Virginia
mountains, where he made his appearance in
the midst of his little family ike one risen