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     Vol. III. 1. a; 
     
    
   
   
    
     ‘”"‘t ~ @o l 
     
    
   
   
    
     (“PRINCE EDWARD I 
     
    
   
   
    
       
     
    
   
   
    
     t 
     
    
   
   
    
     M 
     
    
   
   
    
     SLAND ADVERTISE-R. 
     
    
   
   
    
       
     
    
   
   
    
       
     
    
   
   
    
       
     
    
   
   
    
     CHARLOTTETOWN, SATURDAY, (RUARY 8, 134.0. 
     
    
   
   
    
          
     
    
   
   
    
     t, t; 
     
     __,_._-- 3 
     
     [No. 132; 1,  
     
    
   
   
    
     1. 
     
    
   
   
    
       
     
    
   
   
    
       
     
    
   
   
    
     f 
     
    
   
   
    
       
     
    
   
   
    
          
     
    
   
   
    
       
     
    
   
   
    
     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- 
     
    
   
   
    
       
     
    
   
   
    
       
     
    
   
   
    
       
     
    
   
   
    
     a 
     
    
   
   
    
     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 
     
    
   
   
    
       
     
    
   
   
    
     #— 
     
    
   
   
    
     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, 
     
    
   
   
    
     1 
     
    
   
   
    
       
     
         
     
       
     
    
   
   
    
     ‘— 
     
    
   
   
    
         
     
            
     
        
     
    
   
   
    
     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 '  
     
    
   
   
    
     f 
     
     i 
     
    
   
   
    
     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 
     
    
   
   
    
       
     
    
   
   
    
     hands, or I will escape hence, but: itahall be 
     
     free from the stain of blood—His \vdl  done." 
     
     I felta confidence arising from this  
     
    
   
   
    
     o