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Vol. III. 1. a;

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(“PRINCE EDWARD I

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SLAND ADVERTISE-R.

CHARLOTTETOWN, SATURDAY, (RUARY 8, 134.0.

t, t; __,_._-- 3 [No. 132; 1,

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3‘1? Pause: m was new? nrs-rornr or an inert coutv'rsss.

- (Concluded)

I joined my cousin Emily quite out of breath. I need not say that my head Was too full of other things to think much of drawing for that day. 1 im arted to her frankly the cause of my alarm, but, the same time, as gently asI could; and with tears she promised vigilance, and devotion, and love. I never had reason for a moment to repent the unreserved confidence which I then reposed in her. She was not less surprised thauI at the" unexpected appearance of Edward, whine departure, for France neither of us had for a moment doubted, but which was now proved by his actual presence to be nothing more than an imposture, practised, I feared, for no good end. The situation in which I had found my uncle had removed completely all my doubts as to his design. I magnified suspicions into certainties, and dreaded night after night that I should be murdered in my bed. The

' nervousness produced by sleepless nights and

days of anxious fears increased the horrors of my situation to such a degree, that I at length wrote a letter to a Mr. Jefferies, an old and faithful friend of my father’s, and perfectlv ac- quainted with all his afl'airs, praying him, for God’s sake, to relieve me from my present terrible situation, and communicating without reserva the nature and grounds of my suspicions. This detter I kept sealed and directed, for two orthree days, always about my person, for its discovery would have been ruinous, in expectation of any .opportunity which might be safely trusted, to «have it placed in the post-office; as neither 'Emily nor I was permitted to pass beyond the precincts of the demesne itself, which was sur- rounded by high walls, formed of dry stone, the difficulty of procuring such an opportunity was enhanced. At this time Emily had a short conversation with her father, which she reported to me instantly. After some indifi‘erent matter, he had asked her whether she and I were upon good terms, and whether I was unreserved in my disposition. She answered in the aflirmative: and he then inquired whether I,had been much surprised to find him in my chamber the other day. She answered,that I had been both sur- prised and amused. “ And what did she think of George Wilkin’s appearance I” “ Who I" inquired she. “ Oh the architect,” he answered, “ who is to contract for the repairs of the house, he is accounted a handsome fellow." " She could not see his face,” said Emily, “ and she was in such a hurry to escape that she scarcely noticed him.” Sir Arthur appeared satisfied, and the conversation ended.

This slight conversation, repeated accurately to me by Emily, had the effect of confirming, if indeed anything was required to do so, all that I had before believed as to Edward's actual pre- eence; and I naturally became, if possible, more anxious than ever to dispatch the letter to Mr. .Iefi'eries. An opportunity at length occurred. As Emily and I were walking one day near the gate of the demesne, a lad from the village happened to be passing down the avenue from the house; the spot was secluded, and as this person was not connected by service with those whose observation I dreaded, I committed the letter to his keeping, with strict injunctions that he should put it without delay into the receiver of the town post-office; at the same time I added a suitable gratuity, and the man having made many protestations of punctuality. was soon out of sight. He hadvhardly gone when I began to doubt my discretion in having trusted this per- son; but I had no better or safer means of dispatching the letter, and I was not'warranted in suspecting him of such wanton dishonesty as an inclination to tamper with it; but I could not be quite satisfied of its safety until I had received an answer, which could not arrive for a few days. Before I did, however, an event occurred which a little surprised]_me. I was fitting in my bedvroom early in the day, reading by myself, when I heard a knock at the door.— “ Come in.” said I, and my uncle entered the room. “ Will you excuse me,” said he; “ I unght you in the parlour, and thence I have come here. I desire to say a word with you.— I trust that you have hitherto found my conduct coyou‘such as that of a guardian towards his evard should be.” I dared not withhold my "rent. “And,” he continued, a“ I trust that

on hue not bond me harsh or unjust, and that on have perceived, my dear niece, that I have nought to make this poor place as agreeable to you as may be!” I assented again; and be

t his hand in his pocket, whence he drew a

ded paper, and dashing it upon the table with ctertlin emphasis, he said, “ Did you write that letter 1’ The sudden and fearful alteration of his voice, manner and face, but, more than all, the unexpected production of my letter to Mr.

.Jgfleries, which I at once recognised, so con-

founded and terrified” me, thatI felt almost ehoaking. I could not utter a word. “ Did you "he thatletter’l" be repeated, with slow and in...“ emphasis. " You did, liar and hypo- crite. You dared to write thiafoul and infamous jib“; but it shall be your last. Men will uni-

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versally‘believe you mad, ifI choose to call for an “Inquiry. I could make you appear so. The

’- suspicions expressed in this letter are the hallu-

cinations and alarms of moping lunacy. I have defeated your first attempt, madam; and if ever you make another, chains, straw, darkness and the keeper’s whip shall be your lasting portion.” With these astounding words he left the mom, leaving me almost fainting.

I was now almost reduced to despair—my last cast had failed—I had no course left, but that of eloping secretly from the castle, and placing myself under the protection of the nearest ma- gistrate. I felt if this were not done, and s ee- dily, that I should be murdered. No one, rom mere description, can have an idea of the unmi- tigated horror of my situation—a helpless, Weak, inexperienced girl, placed under the power, and wholly at the mercy of evil men, and feeling that she had it not in her power to escape for a moment from the malignant influence under which she was probably fated to fall—and with a consciousness that if violence, if murder, were designed, her dying shriek would be lost in vain space—no human being would be near to aid her—no human interposition could deliver her.

I had seen Edward but once during his visit, and as I did not meet with him again, I began to think that he must have taken his departure— a conviction which was to a degree satisfactory, and I regarded his absence as indicating the removal of immediate danger.

Emily arrived circuitously at the same con- clusron, and not without good grounds, for she managed indirectly to learn that Edward’s black horse had actually been for a day and a part of a night in the castle stables, just at the time of her brother’s supposed visit. The horse had gone, and, as she argued, the rider must have departed with it. This point being so far settled, I felta little less uncomfortable; when, being one day alone in my bed-room, I happened to look out frotn the window, and, to my unutterable horror, I beheld, peering through an opposite casement, my cousin Edward’s face—Had I seen the evil one himself in bodily shape, I could not have experienced a more sickening revulsion. I was too much appalled to move at once from the window, but I did so soon enough to avoid his eye. He was looking fixedly into the nar- row quadrangle upon which the window opened. I shrunk back unperceived, 'th pm the, rest of the day in terror and deépair; I went to my room early that night, but I was too miserable to sleep. At about twelve o’clock, feeling very nervous, I determined to call my cousin Emily, who slept, you will remember, in the next room, which communicated with mine by a second door.‘ By this private entrance I found my way into her chamber, and without difficulty por- suaded her to return to my room and sleep with me. We accordingly lay down together, she undressed, and I with my clothes on, for I was every moment walking up and down the room, and felt too nervous and miserable to think of rest and comfort. Emily was soon fast asleep, and I lay awake, fervently longing for the first pale gleam of morning, reckohing every stroke ofthe old clock with an impatience which made every hour appear like six. It must have been about one o’clock when I thought I heard a slight noise at the partition door between Emily’s room and mine. as if caused by somebody’s turn- ing the. key in the lock. I held my breath, and the same sound was repeated at the second door of my room—that which opened upon the lobby —the sound was here distinctly caused by the revolution of the bolt in the lock, and it was followed by a slight pressure upon the door itself, as if to ascertain the security of the lock. The person, whoever it might be, was probably satis- fied, for I heard the old boards ofthe lobby creak and strain, as if under the weight of somebody moving cautiously over them. My sense of hearing became unnaturally, almost painfully, acute. I suppose the imagination added dis- tinctness to sounds vague in themselves. I thought that I could actually hear the breathing, of the person who was slowly returning down the

lobby; at the head of the stair-case there ap-

peared to occur a pause; and I could distinctly hear two or three sentences hastily whispered; the steps then descended the stair with appa- rently less caution. I now ventured to walk quickly and lightly to the lobby door, and attempt- ed to open it; it was indeed fast looked upon the outside, as was also the other. I now felt that the dreadful hour was come; but one des- perate expedient remained—it was to awake Emily, and by our united strength, to attempt to force the partition door, which was slighter than the other, and through this to pass to the lower part of the house, whence it might be possible to escape to the grounds, and then to the village. I returned to the bed side and shook Emily, but in vain; nothing that I could do availed to pro- duce from her more that afew incoherent words —it was a death-like sleep. She had certainly drank of some narcotic, as had I probably also, spite of all the "caution with which I had ex- amined every thing presented to us to eat or drink. I now attempted, with as little noise as possible, to force first one door, and then the other—but all in vain, I believe no strength could have effected my object, for both doors

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opened inwfi‘i‘ds.—I therefore collected what movcables I?" uld carry thither, and piled them against the\ re, so as to assist me in whatever atlemptsI shtpld make to resist the entrance of those without,‘—I then returned to the bed, and endeavoureygain, but fruitlessly, to awaken my cousin. Itiirhs not sleep, it was torpor, lethargy, death. I k ' lt down and prayed with an agony of earnestnga; and then seating myself upon the bed, I awaited my fate with akind of terrible tranquillity. '

I heard a faint clanking sound from the nar-

' Laue already mentioned, as if r ,7, . ' .oleome iron instrument against stories? 'r lab. I at first determined not to‘distuii the calmness which I now felt, by uselesst wgching the proceedings of those who sought mfigife; but as the sounds continued, the horribleiuriosity which I felt overcame every other emotion, and I determined at all hazards to gratify iii?! therefore crawled upon my knees to the window, so as to let the smallest portion of my head swear above the sill. The moon was shining with an uncertain radiance upon M antique gray buildings, and obliquely upon the narrow court beneath, one side of which was therefore clearly illuminated, while I e other was lost in obscurity, the sharp outl'fné“ of the old gables, with their nodding clusters of ivy, being at tint visible.—Whoever or whatever occasioned .the noise that had excited my curi- osity, was ‘vconcealed under the shadow of the dark flde of the quadrangle. I placed my hands over my eyes to shade them from the moonlight, which was so bright as to be almost dazzling, and peeping into the darkness, Ifirst dimly, but afterwards gradually, almost with full distinctuess, beheld the form ofa man, engaged in digging what appeared to be a rude hole, close under the wall. Some implements, probably a shovel or pickaxe, lay beside him, and to these be every now and then applied himself as the nature of the ground required. He pursued- his task rapidly and with as little noise as possible. “ So," thought I, as shovel- ful after shovelful of the dislodged rubbish mounted into a heap, “ they are digging the grave in which, before two hours are past, I must lie, a cold mangled corpse; I am theirs-— [cannot esca e.” I felt as if my reason was leaving me; started to my feet, and in mere despai,r,L, plied myself .Igain to each of the two doors ~! strained 'every nerve and sinew, but I might as Well have attempted, with my strength, to force the building itself from its‘foundation. I threw myselfmadly upon the ground, and clasped my hands over my eyes as if to shut out the horrible images which crowded upon me. The paroxysm passed away. I prayed once more with the bitter, agonised fervour ofone who feels that the hour of death is present and inevitable. When I arose I went once more to the window and looked out, just in time to see avshadowy'fignre glide stealthily along the wall. The task was finished. The catastrophe of the tragedy must soon be accom- plished. I determined now to defend my life tothe last; and thatI might be able to do so with some effect, I searched the room for some- thing which might serve as a weapon; but either through accident, or from an anticipation of such a possibility,every thing which might have been made available for such a purpose had been carefully removed. I must then die tame- ly, and without an efi'ortrto defend myself.

A thought suddenly struck rue—might it not be possible to escape through the door, which the assassin must enter? I resolved to make the attempt. I felt assured that the door through which ingress to the room would be effected was that which opened upon the lobby. It was the more direct way, besides being, for obvious reasons, less liable to interruption than the other. -—I resolved, then, to place myself behind a projection of the wall, wlmse shadow would serve fully to conceal me, and when the door should be opened, before they could have discovered the identity of the occupant of the bed, to creep noiselessly from the room, and then to trust to Providence for escape. In order to facilitate this scheme, I removed all the lumber which I had heaped against the door; and I had nearly completed my arrangements, when I perceived the room suddenly darkened, by the close ap- proach of some shadowy object to the window. 0n turning my eyes in‘ that direction. Iobserved, at the top of the easement, as if suspended from above, first the feet, then the legs, then the be- dy, and at length the whole figure of a man presented itself. It. was Edward T—n. He appeared to beguiding his descent so new bring his feet upon the centre of the stone block which occupied the lower part of the window; and having secured his footing upon this, he kneeled down and began to gaze intothc room. As the moon \vas gleaming into the chamber, and the bed curtains were drawn, he was able to dis- tinguish the bed itself and its contents; He appeared satisfied with his scrutiny, for he looked up and made a sign with his hand, upon which a rope by which his descent had beenefi‘eaed was slackened, and he proceeded to disengage it from his waist; this accomplished, he applied his hands to the window frame, which must have been ingeniouin contrived for the purpose, for,

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with apparently no resistance, the whole frame ‘ , containing casement and all, slipped from it . position in the wall, and was by turn lowered into the room. The cold ni htwind waved t vi , bed curtains, and he pause for I moment-a was still again—and he stepped in upon the l of the room. He held in his hand what appear-1. ed to be a steel instrument. shaped something, . like a hammer, but larger and sharper at 3M1; j extremities. Thishe held rather behind him... * while with three long tip toe strides, he brought himself to the bed-side. I felt that. the discovery must now be maiden and held my breath in momentary expectation of - the execration which would betray hm. eur- . prise and disappointment. I closed my eyes , 4 ’ —-there was a pause—but it was a short pne. ‘ I heard two dull blows, given in rapid succession ; a quivering sigh, and the long-drawn, heavy: breathing of the sleeper was for ever suspended. I unclosed my eyes, and saw the murderer drug. the quilt news: the head of the victim; ,he then, with the instrument of death still .in his hand, proceeded to the lobby door—a quick step was then heard approaching, and a vorce whispered something from without -—Edward .answered, with a kind of chuckle, “ her ladyshtp ts past complaining; unloek the door in the —-—- name. unless you’re afraid to come in, and help me to lift the body out of the window." The key was turned in the lock—the door opened—and my uncle entered the room. I have told you already . , that I had placed myself under the shade of the l projection of a wall, close to the door. I had instinctively shrunk down, cowering towards the 4‘ ground, on the entrance of Edward through the ,, window. When my uncle entered the room, he and his son both stood so very close to me that his hand was every moment upon the point of touching my face. I held my breath, and w mained motionless as death.

“ You had no interruption room ’l” said my uncle.

“ No," was the brief reply.

“ Secure the jewels, Ned; the French harpy must not lay her class upon them. You’re I steady hand, by —; not much blood, eh‘l"

" Not twenty drops,” replied hi! eon, " and those on the quilt." v y a

“ I’m glad its over,” whispered my uncle .g again—we must lift the—the thing through the ‘ window, and lay the rubbish over it."

They then turned to the bedside, and, winding the bed clothes round the body, carried it be: tween them slowly to the window, and exchang- ing a few brief words with some one below, they shoved it over the window sill, and I heard it fall heavily on the ground underneath.

“ I’ll take the jewels," said my uncle; “ there are two caskets in the lower drawer.” I . 4

He proceeded, with an accuracy which, had I '

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from the next *,

been more at ease, would have furnished me with matter of astonishment, to lay his hand upon the spot where my jewels lay; and having ’

possessed himself of them, he called to his son—- ‘ “ Is the rope madefast’l" . y I, “ I’m not a fool—to be sure it is,” replied the.

They then lowered themselves from the window. I now rose'lightly and cautiously, scarcely darin 1 to breathe, from my place of concealment, and was creeping towards the door, when I heard my cousin’s voice, in a sharp whisper, exclaim, “ scramble up again; —— you, you’ve forgot to lock the room door ;” and I perceived, by the straining of the rope which hung from above that the mandate was instantly obeyed. Not a‘ second was to be lost, I passed through the door, which was only closed, and moved as rapidly as I could, consistently with stillness. along tho lobby. Before I had gone many yards I heard the door through which I had just passed, dou- ble locked on the inside. I glided down thi stairs in terror, least, at every corner, I should meet the murderer, or one of his accomplice; I reached the hall, and listened for a moment,“ ascertain whether all was silent around; 'no sound was audible; the parlour windows opened on the park, and through one of them I might, I“ thought, easily effect my escape. Accordingly, I hastily entered; but to my consternation, a candle was burning in the room, and by its light I saw efigure seated at thedinocr table, upon which lay glasses, bottles, and other accom- paniments ofa drinking party. Two or three chairs were placed about the table, irregularly, as if hastily abandoned by their occupants. A single glance satisfied me that the figure was that of my French attendant. She was fast asleep, having probably drank deeply. _There was something malignant and ghastly m the calm. ness ofthis bad Woman’s features, di-mly illumio noted as they were by the flickering blaze of tho candle. A knife lay upon the table, and thq terrible thought struck me--“ Should I, kill this sleeping accomplice in thegnilt of the murderer, and thus secure my retreat‘l’l— Nothing could be easier—it was but to draw the blade across her throne—the work of a couch .'-;‘-fs\in .histant'a pause, however, corrected mew—“No,” thought I, “ the God who has conducted rne "thus pr through the valley of the shadow of ARISE will not abandon me now. I Will fell,qu their