f
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NUMB ER /I01--NE VI’
-1 r '
I’ O In I‘ RY-
OLD TO-.\'I-——TURN IIIM OUT'TU DIE-
Ay I turn him out to starve and die.
_ The old and crippled brute!
He lives too long-ii score of years
His leiigtliciicd days compute.‘
Yes, do your wilI—Iie has no voice
I 1 - — u
I 0 ask the reason why ,
Enough that he has lived so long-.
Go tnrii him out to die I
\Vlir.t care yo for the years of toil,
_ And svvt.-atiiig at the plow I
\\’h:it for the many races won--
I'Io cannot serve you now I
\Vl1at for his proud young forin and gait,
And l;oniity ofliis eye I .
Ilc’s old, li--.’s ugly, blind
Go turn him out; to die I
and lnmo——
\
No slicltc.i' from the piercing storms
(Iivc. to" the iiscless thing!
IIc'll fax your bounty long enough
\Vitlioiit‘ siicli conifortiiig.
And stall the otlici's,——fced them well,
And bed tlicin‘ wariil and dry ;
Old ’I‘oiii niay gi'ii7.o the bai'i'ou IlllIL3—-
(loturii him out to the!
Anti. should lie live till n:orrow’s dawn,
'I’o vex ye yet the more,
Be sure and treat the young lierd well,
'I’l1o old liorse as licfore.
Isle served you long and well, when poor,
To Iill your t:oIl’ci's dry ;
But. you are rich now he is old——
Go titrii him otit to die I
Ml;SC? liiil-L1}-NIYQI
-1-iii; iiiii i-;i:ii.t;i.; ”’C,Il«’:’1t'I"II«"’I’t)iiI’I‘I£.
'oncluiIciI.
r
‘»y the author of “The Grooinsinaii,” &c.
‘This is a sad dilemma in which we are
placed,’ coinmenced Fleming —— ‘as the
husband of your sister, M r. Harrison, I
deeply feel the injury of which you; broth-
cr has dotibtless been the catise. That
t’iat will is a falsification, I have not a
shadow of doubt. The legacy tlierciii
named to your sister and you is so trifling
that, compared with yoitr former ninnifi-
cent annuity, you will be destitute. As
for your sister, I have inysclfample means
to support her in suitable style. She
should not, however, be wronged of her
rights, and, as hci linsbiind,I sh:ill promptly
take measures to assert them. \Vill you
assist me I’
‘I arii willingl answered, not a little stir-
prised at the decisivcness of his nianni.-r.
‘You must of course be aware,’ said I,
‘how disagreeable to me innst be the ne-
cessity of proceeding in such a matter
against abrotlier.’
‘I feel it, sit‘, as closely in yourself——lie
is the brother of my wife. But is it not a
duty I’
‘I admit it. _ You perhaps, have grounds
upon which to commence an immediate
prosecution I’
‘Yes--I was formerly the intimate com-
_ panion of your brother, and thought very
liiflily of him, indeed-—so mtich so as to
t ust him with my unlimited confidence.
A sudden change has taken place in my
opinion of him —I believe him——but no—I
will not mention what. Wait fora few
days and I shall be prepared to act. In
the meantime, let not a word of suspicion
escape your lips. All I desire is_ your
active co operation when I call for it.’
‘You shall have it.’
In a day or two after this conversation
occurred, I returned to Barry Place. I
had already apprised M r. Barry and Louisa
of my father’s death, and stated in the let-
ter to them, that I should remain at Harri-
sonville until after the reading of the will.
I remember too, what my feelings were,
as getting into the chaise to return, I
tltoiiglit, if my brother succeeded in his
nefarious scheme, how I should be left
upon the world, without a trade, without
occupation and portionless.
With a heavy heart I arrived at Mr.
Barry’s, where I was fondly greeted by
Louisa. To Mr. Barry I at once revealed
all, and Iiaving related to him the affair in
relation to the will ‘I anticipated some
such machinations,’ said he—‘the other
day when you mentioned that Davis was
at your fathcr’s place, I expected it. Da-
vis is a wrctc-h~—a victim of that detesta-
ble vice, drunkcnness l’ V
‘But I, if my brother succeeds, will be
destitute,’ I exclaimed. ’
‘Let not that trouble yoti,’ rcjoine
Louisa, winding around me the arms of
afl’ection———‘shall not I be your wife I’
‘Yes,’ added Mr. Barry, ‘and the lius-I
band of Louisa shall never have cause to;
complain of fortune’s favors.’ ’
s
CIIAPTER. XII.
“But I10l‘0’S it parchinent: with the seal of Caesar;
I found it in his closet!—'tis his will."
The morning for my departure from
I-Iarrisonville, my brother-in-law proposed
that we should correspond, to which I as-
seated, and in about a week's time 1 1-3.
ccived a letter from him.
"I‘IAI‘.RISON\'ILLE, Sept. 1, 1834-.
Dear Sir,
“Your brother has taken posses-
sion of the estate and had his will re-
corded. We mtist dispossess him, if we
can.‘ Davis still hangs about the place. I
have learned that his residence is in Bris-
tol where your brother must doubtless
have become acquainted with the wretch
during our sojourn there for a few days at
the time I sent the challenge to Mr. Barry.
It is, Iassure you, a source of inexpressi-
ble satisfaction to me that a meeting of
hostility did not take place between that
Irentleman and myself—I did not wish to
demand it at the time, but was urged to it
Published Every tfifedzsestlity Itiorniug, by J.-LBIES l:§;‘._Ez), 3; Two Douals P0,. Anunm in Advance.
SERIES.
«xx/\ ’-\/\/\/\/\.r\.x\/\/\/~./\/\ r'\ "»/\"\/‘\/‘x/‘. /‘\/‘g/~._r\, ’\r‘\f~_ r\/\ir\/‘-1 \1\/\ »~\/\, \/\,\,\
NOI’tVI_7ALK, CT.
/'\/\/\r\A_/\/\/\/\/\/\ I-\/\,z\/\/x/\_\_,-‘f\_,-\/-\
VVEDNESDAY. JULY -21. I847.
I\/'\ *‘\/\/\/\f\/\/\/\/\/“s/V'\/\/\/\/\/\
\J‘\/\/\_/\/\/\
" ‘\’\’‘-/\-’‘~-’\/\ ''\'‘~ /'\ *‘~-’\.-‘~ —\z\ r\r~.-~r\/\/\/-~/\/\/'\/\r\/\/
VOLUME 30—NUMBER 29-.
friend, and who I thought could act upon
no other principles than those that were
-honorable. Of Mr. I3arry’s nnremitted
kindness to my poor mother during her
her death.
‘Lewis and liiiterchangeno civilities.
‘To-morrow Ellen and I leave for the
city, from whence I will immediately
write. I would advise _vou to drive over
to Bristol, ascertain Davis’ residence
there,and pay a visit to his wife. from
whom you may perhaps elicit some infor-
mation that will be of service to us.
“Yours siiicerly,
“Aiiriina Fi.i:i.iit\‘o.”
VVith this I hastened to Mr. Barry,
who, upon the perusal of it, directed
me to take the "advice therein, and repair
to Bristol without delay. ‘I will go with
you,’ said he, ‘and may be of benefit to
oti.’
I thankfully accepted liis'offer, and that
very afternoon we drove to Bristol.
We found two or three small children
playing in'the sunshine, before the door
of a small blue painted frame house, to
which we had been directed by some of
the neighbors as the dwelling of Davis;
and, wliile inquiring, Mr. Barry likewise
asked what was Davis’ occupation ?
‘Indeed, sir, that’s hard to tell,” said the
woman of whom he inquired.
‘He isn't at home now remarked
another woman——“Iie goes ofl‘, nobody
knows where, and stays for months at a
time.”
‘He leaves,’ continued Mr. Barry, inter-
rogatively, ‘sufliciciit to support his family
does he not'I’ ’
‘Not often, I guess,’ responded the
woman, ‘Susan has mostly to scratch along
the best way she can. She takes in plain
sewing. sir.’
at the door, upon the step of which the
children were at play, a female voice de-
sired us to “come in." There sat a we-
man, apparently froiii tliirty to thirty-five
years of age, sewing; upon our entrance
she rose, and at a glance recognised Mr.
Barry whom she had not seen for several
years. She appeared delighted to see her
former master, and her first inquiry was
concerning Louisa?
‘She must be a young woman grown by
this time I’ said she.
Mr. Barry answered aflirmativcly.
‘Is she married, sirI’
‘Not yet.’
‘How is your husband and your chil-
dren I you Iiavc more than
presume '! I saw two or three at the
door as I came in——are they yours?’
‘I have five,’ she answered. ‘My hus-
band is well, I believe, but of late, I see
so little} of him that I can scarcly
answer for his health when it _is inquired
after.’
‘How long madam,’
resided in Bristol?’
‘Not long, sir—not more than it year.’
‘When I saw you last, do you recol-
lect you mentioned the intention of your
husband to move to the \Vest I’ said Mr.
Barry.
‘Yes, sir,’ she replied, ‘but we could
never get enough together to bear expen-
ses.’ Here the tears stood .in her eyes,
and ‘oh sir,’ she exclaimed, ‘I am very
unhappy! my poor cliildren—what will
become of themI \’Villiani grows worse
and worse—he drinks more than ever, and
is frequently so abusive that it almost
breaks my licartl’ She ttirneil aside to
wipe the tears from her eyes. ‘liiit, sir,’
she resum-d, ‘how came éyou to know
where I lived”! I have long wished to
see:you. I have something in my posses-
sion thatl am anxious to give into your
hands.’
‘May I ask what it is? said he.
‘Your marriage certificate, sir.’
‘Is if possible I’ he exclaimed, ‘is it pos-
siblel My marriage ccrtificate——in your
.’possession I’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Where I produce it—qiiickI Give me
once more a'sight of it, and my immeasura-
ble gratitude shall be yours.’
‘Here it is’——said she, and drew from
«her person a paper which proved indispu-
said I, ‘have yoti
dltably to b'e the long lost certificate of
M r. Barry’s marriage with Theresa Flem-
ing.
IIis hand tre rnbledv as he took it, and he
was unable to find words adequate to ex-
press his joy except in tears‘!
Susan accounted for the certificate being
in her possession by stating that, at: the
time Mr. Barry broke up house keeping at
C—————, while packing away some papers
into a trunk, she accidentally happened to
take notice of this, and being called aside
at the moment, thrust it into her bosom to
further satisfy her curiosity at leistire.
‘Busily engaged with other matters,’ said
she, ‘I had no chance to examine it, and
neglected to replace it until it was too
late to do so without discovery. Had I
then suinmonedto my aid sufficient reso-
lution to restore it, I should have saved
myselffrom much uneasiness since.’ That
sense of shame, however, which is inevit-
ably generated in the human breast by the
consciousness 08 having acted imprudent-
ly, deterred her from it.
‘Do you know where your husband now
is I’ I inquired.
-‘No, sir; the last I saw ofhim was here
three weeks ago, when he was in compa-
ny with a well dressed gentleman who
looked enough like you, sir, to be your
l
I
I
I
I caving the group, and having knocked,
one I.
2
-’ning, not have I:-ccn Wiiliam since.’
I ‘You know nothing fnrtlicr'I’
‘No, sir; I heard none of their conver
last illness I have since learned front a,sation——tl'ieywere walking up and down;
domestic here by the name‘ of Catliarine, in front of’ the house, and when VVilliairi
who lived with my parent at the period of
‘came in to get his portmanteau, the gen-'
tleman waited for him at the gate. Thcv
then went over to the “Cross Keys” to-
gether, and presently, in company with
another person, I saw them get into an
open baroiiche and drive off.’
‘Take this, only as an earnest of my fu-
ture intentious,’ said Mr. Barry, presenting
Susan with a considerable sum of money,
and we left-he as happy with his new
found treasure as the discoverer of ti gold
mine, or Coliimbns' when the new world,
first dawned upon his sight.
I lost no time in comniiiiiicatiiig the re-
sult of our visit to Flcmiiig—as soon as
we reached home, I sat down and wrote-
to him, detailing it as I have already pre-
scnicd it to the reader. Here is an‘ ex-
tract of his letter in reply: “Yotir intelli-,
gence is entirely satisfactory upon that’
point, which was to me for" a long time al
matter of painful uncei'taint_v--—my sis-ter’s’
marriage. \’-Vould that my poor mother;
had been convinced of it before her death:
but I-Iis ways are inscrutable, and we are
taught to consider them for the best.”’
This letter was dated from the city, to
where he and Ellen had now removed.
My opinion of my brother in law was
now undergoing a rapid change. The last,
three weeks had presented l.ini to me in a’
new light-—he no longer_ appeared the
reckless victim of sensuality and unprin-
ciplcd being, which I had been accustomed
to consider him.
Our correspendence continued, and I
invariably showed his letters to l\Ir. Bar-
ry, who could not btit admire the getter-
ous tone of feeling that breathed tlirougli
his sentiments. He, too, confessed that
his opinion of the man was not the same
‘it had been, and finally requested me to
write an invitation on his part, for my sis-
ter and him to visit Barry Place.
This invitation was accepted, and on a
clear mild day, about the middle of Sep-
.tembet, the open carriage was at the door;
gllilr. Barry, Louisa, and I entered it, and
’.Iei'ome took the reins. ‘We drove down
the carriage way to the main road, enjoy-
ing the salubrity of the season and the
‘delightful prospects that variegated nature
spread on every side. Three words will
express our fcclings—we were happy!
The object of our present drive was to
meet Ellen and her litisband, whom we
expected, iind whom we encountered in a
chaise, on the road. It was not the first
ltiinc Louisa and Ellen had seen each oili-
er, and their meeting was necessarily ex-
empt from mtich of the formality that oc.
curs upon an introduction. Dinner was in
‘readiness when we reached the mansion;
and the ladies, who retired to dress, having
finished their toilet, we spent the remain-
der of the day in innocent recreations.
The afliiir of the rifle shot was yet a
vmystery, however, and at times I would
5tliink——revolting was the thought-could
'it he, could it be, that my brother was the
perpetrator ‘I What enmity had be against
ihlr. BarryI None—it could not be—Mr.
Fleming was the guilty one!
I But what a veil had been withdrawn
lfrom my brother’s character! His Ievity,
iliglit lieartedness and cnjotzement, as was
_now but too evident, had been assumed
5for sinster motives; and, instead of the
"Don Juan like aspect which it Ii-ad borne,
it now strongly resembled that ofa Shy-
Ilock or a Richard the Third—combining
‘the covetous disposition of the former,
with the heartlessness of both.
With respect to nflitirs at Harrisonville,
-my brother still resided there. He had
already commenced alterations in the pro-
perty. My mother remained with him:
but whether she looked upon the affair of
the will in the same light that we did, was
,not known; the probability was that she
-did not. Lewis had been the favorite of
-both parents, and her partiality towards
him would, as a matter ofcourse, be much
!in his favor. Fleming, Ellen, and myself,
had by no means lessened in our convic-
tion, that the will,wliich had been read to
us was a forgery. As yet though we had
not sufficiency of proof to safely com-
mence a prosecution with, but were daily
,in adticipation of some occurrence of
'which to make use. The lawyer Ardley,
who had been recommended to my father
in his last moments by Lewis as a suitable
|
I
miles and am quite tired.’
‘Perhaps you will accept of some re-
freshments I’
‘VVell, I don’t care if I do—-—I’ve rather
an appetite, and if it'll be no trouble——’
‘Not the least’—and a servant was call-
ed, who conducted Davis, staggering, to
the refcctory. VVe iinmediately returned
to the the drawing room and apprised Mr.
Barry of his being beneath the roof.
‘He is here for one purpose only then,’
said Mr. Barry to me—‘and that is to be-
tray your brother. Something has trans-
pired at I'Iarrisonville to offend him. At-
tentively hear what he has to disclose, and
we can then act accordingly.’
Davis having finished his ltinclieon and
returned from the refectory,I led off the
conversation by making an inquiry in re-
gard to my mother.
‘She is well, sir,’ he answered.
Inext asked, more for the sake of a
question than any thing else, ‘she still rc-
inains at I‘larrisonvillc——does she I’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘And my brother I-ewis’—~but at men-,
tion of my brother's name, Davis gritted
his teeth, his eyes flushed with demonglike
animation, and I heard him tnuttcr “damn
Iiitii.” -
‘Your brother, sir’ he vehemently coin-
menccd, ‘yotir brother, sir,’ and was
about to exclaim invectively, but with an
effort checked himself. With a suppres-
sod tone he continued, ‘I’ve been treated
like ii dog by him, but-—-' and he again
ciirbcd his vindictive feelings. ‘Yes, he
could not have used a dog worse,’ he re-
snmed, with a more moderate, but still
irritable tone—‘he cailcd me ‘drunl.'ard,’
‘sponge,’ ‘villain,’ aiid-bade me leave the
house. I did leave the liotise, and he shall
rue the hour I did so I’
I tlien asked him if he knew anything of
Christopher Ardley’s character.
‘Know liimI that Idol a greater villain
never stepped in shoe leather,’ he exclaim-
ed, in not very polished, but nevertheless
einpliatical language. ‘He it was that
persuaded your brother to forge the will I’
‘Ali,’ said I, aflecting surprise, ‘is it pos-
sible I’
‘Yes, you Mr Fleming here said it was
a forgery-—said so, in presence of us all,
the very day the will was read.’
‘But his saying so didn’t make it so,’ I
rejoined. ‘
‘It was so nevertheless,’ said be.
‘My suspicions then were just,’ remark-
ed Fleming. ‘You sir, perhaps can speak
positively in regard to this aflair I’
‘Yes, I signed my name as a witness to
both wills.
‘Both I‘ echoed Fleming.
‘Signed your name to both wills,’ said I.
were there two.’ ' -
‘Yes,’ he replied, ‘the genuine and the
spiirions. Before your father drew his
last breath I signed /its will, and the next
day put my natiie to another.’
‘Do you know,’ asked Fleming, ‘any-
thing in relation to where the figennine
will now is I’
‘Yes—if not destroyed it’s in the law-
yer’s possession. Your brother wislied to
retain it in his own hands—Ar(lley would
not consent tliotigli, and held on to it him-
self.’
In a further conversation with Davis,
we learned the cause of his leaving my
brother. From his language it was evi
dent that his demands on my brother for
money, who he said had promised to am-
ply stipport him throtigli life, had been re-
pi--ated and exorbitant. On the present
morning he had applied for cash and had
been refused. VVords, taunts, oaths and
threats had been interchanged, and Levi is
had ordered him to leave the lionse. He
did so, and came to Barry Place on foot.
‘Nor am I now,’ said he, ‘besides being a
greater villain than I was, one cent the bet-
ter ofi for having engaged in this affair;
that rogue of a lawyer though has got his
tlionsands by it.’
‘What, have you no money I’ I inquired.
‘This is all, sir’——putting his hand into his
pocket and producing a silver half dollar,
and three or four cents. ‘I want money
for my family, and shall have to depend‘
upon your kindiie in the present in-
stance.’
‘Ccrtainly,’ said I, but Fleming interriip-
ted me--
‘We must be careful not to be too has-
ty’ he observed, drawing me aside and
speaking in a wliisper—‘tliis is a man very
little to be relied upon. \Vcrc we to give
ss,
‘person to draw up the will, and VVilliatn
Davis, as was evident upon the face of the
matter, were his confederatcs. Our
hopes of discovering the truth depended
mainly upon him.
' CHAPTER xiii.
“Speak of me as I am; nothing extonuate,
Nor set down auglit in malice.”
OTIIELLO.
As we anticipated, so it liappened— Da-
vis betrayed his trust.
One evening a servant announced that
there was a person at the door who wish-
ed to see Mr. Fleming. Arthur went out,
but returning invited me ‘to follow him,
which I did, and in the reception room
found Davis. I saw that he was incbria-
ted ; he was not so stupefied however as
I had sometimes know him to be.
‘This is Mr. Harrison,’ said Fleming, as
we entered, speaking to Davis, who it ap-
peared had inquired for me.
‘Yes—-I see it is——_” hiccupped Davis-
“I have seen the gentleman before at his
late fatlier’s.”
‘VVill you take a seat, sir.’
by Lewis, who I then deemed my best
brother. I know not who the gentleman
‘Thank you-—y.es,’ bluntly but -with re-
him money and the subject be brought
;into court, as iinniatcrial as it may now
Iseein, it might there be made use of by
the opposing counsel and be so handled
as to prove of incalculable injury to our
cause.’ ‘
. ‘But vihat’s to be done with him,’ said
wife and children.’
‘\Vell, sir,’ said Fleming, speaking in
very plain terms, ‘from what I already
know of you I am by no means inclined
to believe that you are over anxious for a
sight of your family; your past neglect of,
your wife ahd children is an argiinient
that tells much to the contrary. If you
choose, you may remain, and money shall
be sent to your wife, otherwise no money
will you get.’
‘Why, do you mistrust me 'I’
‘Yes.’
‘For what reason I’
‘A very good onc—-‘your general char-
acter.’
‘And what is that, pray I explain I’
‘You have yourself cotifessed it.’
‘Confessed I what I’ '
‘That you are a vikiin.’
‘Thank you! an since yoti are not
aware of the courtesy which is‘ due from
one gentleman to another, why, I think
the best thing I can do is to take my leave.’
‘Not a step, sir I’ exclaimed Fleming,
imperatively. ‘You go not out of this
house until I see fit.’
‘Who’-ll stop me I who dares to I’ cried
be other starting to his feet.
‘I will I’
‘By what authority I’
‘By no authority—-by force I’
‘Hal’ _
The latter made a rush towards the
door but Arthur grasped him by the coat-
colliir mid with a jerk brought him to the
floor, at the same time calling to me for
assistance. Davis was muscular ; he
struggled violently and it was as much as
the two of us could accomplish to keep
him down. The noise of the scuffle, to-
gether with the loud, blasphemous
language of Davis, brought Mr. Barry,
Louisa, Ellen and all the servants in haste
and alarm to the spot. Mr. Barry imine
diately sent for legal assistance, which
was soon obtained and Davis delivered
into the hands of the proper authorities.
. The next day a suit was enacted against
my brother, Ardlcy and Davis—'-the latter
was nna'ole to get bail for the sum rcquir
ed and was consequently imprisoned till
the trial came on. Able counsel had been
secured on both sides. When Davis en-
tered the court I was astonished at his
altered appearance. Instead of the full,.
flushed countenance Iliad last seen him
with, he was now pale, his checks were
I
'Lewis to assassinate me
was; they went away together that eve-,spect, ‘I've walked something like twentylassure you I have some anxiety to see my . found stowed away amoncr OIIILI‘ papers
I ‘ = ’ .’
at the bottom of an iron chest which they
;had _forced open. It was shown to Davis
who instantly recognised it as the one
which he had first put his signature to as
a witness. Be-.i,des, the signature of my
father on this, compiired with that of the
other was a glaring proof of itsvaliditv
-—tlie forged one was but poorly executed.
Further investigation was useless-—the
counsel on otir part -closed. Enough had
been disclosed to establish the forgery.
Why were there iwo wills .7 The mere
fact of this other one being found where
it ’was, was sufficient to prove the guilt of
Lewis and his accomplices. So the judge
considered it; he did not even charge the
jury, who, without leaving the box, brought
in a verdict of guilty. -
Upon the following morning each stic-
cessively stood up in court to receive his
sentence—but one of the culprits was my
‘own brotlier—tlie tears fall upon the page
whilst I write, and here I ask permission
of the reader to draw a veil.
According to the genuine ‘will and tea-
tament of my father he had divided his
property equally between his children-
Elleu and Iconsequenily had our for-tunes
restored to us, but Lewis—-alas! he does
not, cannot enjoy his ! Bitter has been his
experience. ‘
Not long after this Louisa and I were
married. Ellen ofllciated as bridesmaid
and Arthur as groomsman. Iluring the
evening, as I was seated, two hours or so
after iiiai-riage, by the side of my wife, my
sister approached and winding her arms
around me, ‘oh brother!’ in the fullness of
her heart she exclaimed, ‘I am so happy I’
‘So could I be,‘ »I retnrncd—‘but—out‘
brother I’ '
‘Ali, you well may sigh !—In the excess
ofmy joy I had forgotten him—poor Lewis,
lie langiiislies in prison. I pity_,him.’ V
‘He suffers’ said I——‘Iie suffers the pun-
ishment of his crime.’
As regards the affair of the rifle-shot,
which as yet remained a mystery and sus-
picion l'€Stt.'(.I, on my brother-in-law, it was
not cleared up until ii year and better had
elapsed. It came out that Davis, not
Fleming, was tlie_ perpetrator. During
his imprisonment, fearing that he was
about to die, he made a confession of it,
acknowledging that he had been hired by
His statement
was as follows—-that while loitering about
the “Cross Keys” at the time Fleming and
sunken, his beard grown‘ and he presented
a very haggard aspect indeed. His former,
boldness and cffrontery had, as it scemed,l
deserted him; he appeared dejected and'
broken-spirited.
“’III10l]I_W{tSlIlIg time with a detail of
the trial it will be sufficient to state that
in the midst of the fourth day’s proceed-
ings, Davis, in a fit of remorse, rose from
his seat and in the open court confessed
his guilt and participation in the crime.
Instinctivcly I turned towards my brother
and encountered his half-averted gaze-
liis color had changed--he was evidently
pale with alarm. Ardley was seatcd near
him. He too changed color, and blank
was the stare of his astonishment—aston-
isliineut succeeded by a feerful anticipa-
tion of consequences.
‘So then’ observed the counsel on our
part, questioning Davis, ‘the wiil which
was read by Christopher Ardley in pres-
ence of the late Henry Harrison's family,
purporting to be the ‘ last will and testa-
ment,’ of the deceased, was a forgery,——
was it'l’
‘I was,’ replied Davis.
‘You witnessed it as siichI when you
placed your signature to it, you believed
it to be a forgery,—did you I’
‘Yes.’ .
‘But previous to this you witnessed a
will which was Iegal—onc which Iiad
been excuted in conformity with the desire
of the deceased I’
‘I did.’
‘VVlien you signed the forgery, you
were fully aware of it’s being such——were
you I’
‘It was.’
‘You know it to be a
matter 1.’
‘Yes.’
‘You were bribed into it, you say I’
‘I was.’
‘What was your agreement I what
were the stipulations into which you on-
tered I’ '
‘None particularly.’
‘Did he give you cash I’ .
‘No--he agreed to give me It mainten-
ance3
‘Your family inc‘adcd I’
‘I suppose so.’
‘Was iliere any specified amount men-
tioned and time set to pay it. I’
‘None.’ I-
preconccrtcd
I, ‘his object is money, and if not indulged
with it he may perhaps refuse to furnish.
us with evidence.’
‘Leave that'to me,-’ he replied. Turn-
ing to Davis, ‘your family I have tinder-
stood reside in Bristol I’
‘Yes.’
‘Is it your intention’ said Fleming, ‘to-
go there to night I’
‘Yes.’
‘VVould it not suit yoti equally as well
if we were to send money to your family
and you remained here during the night I’
‘Stay here to night! Why I’
‘VVe can start the sooner in the morn-
ing for the city’ said Fleming, ‘where I
presume you will not object to accompany
us in order to give your deposition before
a magistrate I’
‘You have received monies from Lewis
Harrison though —-hav’n‘t you I’
‘Yes, frequently—~bnt not enough-—the
amounts were too small.’
‘Do you know where the genuine will
is—in whose possession I’
‘If you get a search warrant out, I
think it’s very likeiy you will find it’——
pointing to Ardley—‘somewhere in his
keeping.’
Agreeable to this intimation the warrant
was procured and oflicers despatched to
search the luwyer’s residence. The court
then adjourned for that day.
The next morning, sure enough, apath-
er will was prodticcd in court, signed
“Henry Harrison,” which, as -Davis the
day previous predicted, the officers had
found in the house of the lawyer. Accor-
‘I have no objections,’ said lie, ‘but I can
ding to the statement they gave, it was
Lewis were there, an acquaintance was
formed between the latter and himself
who had bribed him to the commission of
the dced—that on an evening in the month
of August, which he specified, having been
furnished with a description of my person
from my brother, he took a rifle upon his
shoulder, went out by the back way from
his dwelling and managed‘ to get out of
the town without meeting a person——that,
instead of keeping the main road, he
jumped over into a field, and so, over fen-
ces, from field to field until he arrived in
Barry Place—_that seeing a light in the
second story, (the library, the reader will
recollect) he scrambled up among the
bonghs of a large oak tree and saw a man
seated at a table reading, at whom in the
hurry and fear of the moment he dischar-
ged his rifle—th-at instantly almost he saw
his mistake—that two young persons
rushed into the room, a male and female
the former of which answered precisely
the description given by Lewis of his
brother——that several others, of both sexes
now biirstcd into the room, who were ap-
parently servants employed about the
house and grounds, and, that, expecting a
search would be made for the offender,
he concluded it safest to remain where he
was and accordingly clomb higher among
the branches. There he remained con-
cealed while the search was going on.-—
After it was over, mid every‘ one about the
premises had retired ‘for the night, he
di-sccndcd and stole home by tliefsame
route he came.
This he revealed to a minister of the
Gospel, who Iiad called at his request to
visit him. The penitent wa_s not in such
immediate danger as be anticipated; he
survived his confession several months,
and when finally called away to “that
bourne from whence no traveller returns,”
the comforts of religion enabled him to
depart in peace. ‘ '
As regards the report which had been
circulated of my brother-in-law being a
gamester—-upon investigation, being tra-
ced to its source, it was found to be the
calumnious invention of one who was base
enough to resort to such despicable means
in order to accomplish an equally dishon-
orable object; his villainy reooiled upon
himself.
Mr. Barry humanely provided for Susan
and her children. She remained in a state
of widowhood about a twelvemonth and
then became the wife of an honest farmer
in the neighborhood, who had.been an ac-
quaintance of the family previous to her
liusband’s death and had since been an
anxious solicitor for her hand. Her days
glide by in happiness and peace.
But here let us close.
I am the father of “ii young boy, sweet
as his mother’s beauty.” Ellen is a parent
too—-she is the happy mother of a fair
haired little girl, with laughing eyes and
lisping tongue.
“Honesty is the best policy.” “Virtue
is its own reward.”
The city of New York actually pays
more for sweeping her streets annually,
than Connecticut does for the support of
her State Government——$900;000~
Norwalk Chronicler