lis leart's
Desire
Dy SIR WALTER BESANT
CHAPTER I.
"I will now," Mid the German, "read
your statement over, tod you caa lgn
It If you Ilk. Kemewber. however,
what your eignature may mean. Aa for
what I ahall da with it afterward de
panda on many thine."
"Do what you like with It." replied
th Englishman, alowly and huskily.
"Send it to the polio la London.-If you
Ilk. I don't car what become of It.
or of myaatf lthr. For I am tired of
It; I give In- No oa knowe what It la
lika until you actually com to fight
with It."
He did not explain what "It" waa: but
tha other seemed to understand what he
meant, and nodded hla head gravely,
though coldly.
The two men were a moet curioua
couple to look upon, aet among moat re
markable aurroundlnga. The acene waa.
If possible, more Interesting than the
couple in the foreground. For la front
there stretched the seashore, the little
wares lapping eoftly and creeping alow
ly over the level white coral aand; be
yond the smooth water lay the coral reef
with its breakers; at the back of the
eandy shores was a gentle rise of land,
covered with grovea of cocoa palms and
bananas; among them were clearings
planted with fields of sweet potatoes and
two or three huts were risible beneath
the tree. Again, beyond the level belt
rose a great green mountain, fire or all
thousand feet high. The time was about
an hour before aunset; the air waa warm
and soft; the sloping sunshine lay on
groTe and clearing, seashore and moun
tain aide, forest and green field, making
ererythlng glow with a splendid richness
and prodigality of color.
Aa one saw the place this evening one
might aee it every evening, for In New
Ireland there la neither summer nor win
ter, but always all the year round the
promise of spring, the heat of aummer
and the fruition of autumn; with no
winter at all, except the winter of death,
when the branches cease to put forth
learea and stretch out white arms, spec
tral and threatening, among their living
companions in the forest.
Oae of the men the German was of
colossal proportions, certainly six fe-t
In height. He was still quite young
well under thirty. Ilia hair was light
brown, short and curly; an Immense
brown beard covered his face and fell
over his chest. His eyes were blue and
prominent, and he wore spectacles. His
dress was modeled on the dress of the in
habitants of these islands. His only robe
was a great piece of Feeje'tapn cloth
white, decorated with black lotenge and
abrown edging; it was rolled once round
his waist, descending to his knees, and
waa then thrown over hia left shonlder.
leaving the right arm bare. The aun had
painted this limb a rich warm brown.
He wore a cap something like that In
vented, and patented for the use of soli
taires, by Robinson Crusoe; it waa coni
cal in ahape, and made of feathers
brightly colored. He had sandals of
thin bark tied to his feet by leather
thongs, and be wore a kind of leather
acarf, from which depended a revolver
case, a field glass, a case of instrument
and a large waterproof bag. These con
atituted his whole possessions, except a
thick cotton umorella. This he con
stantly carried open.
The other was an Englishman. The
rough flannel slnrt. which had lost all its
buttons and one of its rteeves; the coarse
canvas trousers; tlie old boots broken
down at heel all spoke of the soil. His
gait and carriage sung aloud of plowed
fields: his broad and ruddy cheeks, hia
reddish-brown hair and beard, spoke of
the south or west of England. His age
might be about six or eight-and-twenty.
His hair hung in masses over his shoul
ders, and bis beard was thicker than hi
companion's, though not o long. His
face, which had been once a square full
face, was drawn and haggard; his eyes.
which were meant to be frank, were trou
bled; and his carriage, which should
have been upright and brave, was heavy
and dejected. He seemed, aa he stood
before the other man, at ouce ashamed
and remorseful.
"Listen; I will read it carefully and
alowly," said the German. "Sit down
while I read it. If there is a single word
that is not true you can alter that word
before you sign."
The man sat down obediently ther
was a curious slowness about his move
ments as well as his speech while the
lierman reaa tne document, wnicn was
written very closely on two pages of a
notebook.
"Listen," he said again, "and correct
tne when I am wrong."
This was the paper which he read on
the shore of the Pacific ocean and on the
Island of New Ireland one evening In the
year 1884:
"I, David Lelghan, farmer, of Challa
comoe, uevonanire, Deing now on an
Island in the Pacific ocean, where I ex
pect to be shortly killed and eaten by
the cannibals, declare that the following
la the whole truth concerning the death
of my uncle, Daniel Lelghan.
"He Jockeyed mt out of my property
he kept on lending me money In large
aums and small sums, and making me
aien- paper In return, and never let me
know how much I owed him; he made
me mortgage my land to him; he encour
a eed me to drink, and to neglect my
farm. At last when I waa head over
ears in debt he suddenly brought down
the law upon me, foreclosed and took my
land. I stayed about tha place) till my
money waa nearly all gone. Then I
must either starve, or I must become a
laborer where I had been a master, or I
must go away and find work somewhere
else. I had but thirty pounds left In
the world, and I made up my mind to
go away. It waa a day In October of
the year 1880. I went to aee my uncle
and begged him to lend me thirty pounds
more to start me In Canada. Bald my
uncle I ahall not forget hla words
'Nephew David,' he said, grinning,
'you've been a fool and lost your money.
I ve been a wise man and kept mine.
Do you think I am going to give you
more money to fool away 7 f wonder I
did not kill him thea and there. He eat
In hla room at (5 rat nor, hla account books
before him, and he looked up and laugh
ed at me while he as Id It, Jingling the
money that was In his pocket. And I
waa hla nephew, and by hia art a and
practice he'd Jockeyed me out of a farm
of three hundred acre, moat of It good
land, with the brook runnlug through It
and a mill upon It.
"I remember very welt what I said to
him never mind what It waa but 1
warrant he laughed no longer, though
he kept up hia bullying to the end, and
told ine to go to destruction my owo
way, and the further from my native
parish the better.
"So I left him and walked away
through Watereourt to John Exon'a Inn,
where I aat all that day drinking. I
told nobody what had happened, but they
guessed very well that I'd had a quarrel
with my uncle, and all the world knew
by that time how he'd got my land Into
his own possession,
"About G o'clock In the evening Harry
Rabjahns, the blacksmith, came to the
Inn, and Grandfather Derge with him.
and they had a mug of cider apiece. And
then I began to talk to them about my
own affair. I said I should go away
that very evening. I ahould walk to
Bovey Tracey, I aald; I should take the
train to Newton-Abbot, and o to Bris
tol, where I should find a ship bound for
foreign parts. That was what I said,
and perhaps It waa lucky I aald ao much.
But I don't know, because the verdict of
the jury I never heard.
"We shook hands and I came away
Twaa then about eight, and there was
a half-moon. Aa I crossed the green the
thought came Into my bead that I was a
fool to go to Bristol when Plymouth and
Falmouth were nearer and would suit
my purpose better. I could walk to Ply
mouth easy, and ao save the railway
money. Therefore I revolved to change
my plan, and instead of turning to the
left I turned to the right and walked
across the church ysrd, and took the
road which goes to TYidilicombe.
"It waa only a chance, mark you, that
I took that road. I did not know, and
I did not suspect, that my uncle had
ridden over to Ashburton after I left
him. All a chance It was. I never
thought to meet him; and he might have
been living till now If It hadn't been for
that chance."
The man who was listening groaned
loud at thia point
Ibe first two miles or the road Is a
narrow lane between high hedges. Pre
ently I pawed through I ley tree Gate,
nd so out where the road runs over the
pen down, and here I began to think
what I would do if I had my uncle be
fore me; and the blood came Into my
eyes, and I clutched the cudgel hard
Who do you think put that thought into
my head? The evil one. Why did he
put that thought into my head? Because
the very man was riding along the road
on his way home, and because I waa go
ing to meet him in about ten minutes.
CHAPTER II.
I heard the footsteps of his pony
long way off. I was in the middle of the
open road when I saw him coming along
in the moonlight I stood still And wait
ed for him. 'Murder him! Murder him"
whispered a voice in my ear. Whose
voice was that? The evil one's voice,
"My stick was a thick, heavy cudgel
with a knob. I grasped It by the end
tr.d waited. He did not see me. He
was looking straight before him, think
ing, I suppose, how he had done well to
get the nephew ont of the way he had
robbed and ruined. So, as he came up
to n.a I lifted my arm and struck him
on the head once, saying, 'Give me back
my land, villain!' But I do not know
whether he heard me or saw me; for he
fell to the ground without a word or a
groan.
"He fell, I say, from his pony clean
on to the ground, his feet slipping away
from the stirrups. His face was white.
I stood beside him, waiting to see if he
would recover. I hoped he would, be
cause it is a dreadful thing to think that
you have murdered a man, even when
you are still hot with rage. If be would
only recover a little and sit np, I thought,
I should be a bappy man. But he did
not He lay quite still and cold.
Then I began to think that if I were
caught I should be hanged. Would they
suspect me? Fortunately, no one had
seen me take that road. I must go away
a quickly as I could, and leave no trace
or sign that would make them suspect
me.
"Then I thought that If I were to rob
him, people would be leas inclined to
think of me; because, though I might
murder the man who had ruined me.
they wonld never believe that I would
rob him.
"I felt la hla pocket. There waa his
watch; no, I would not touch his watch.
There waa some loose ailver, which I
left. There waa a bag contalulug money.
I know not how much, but It waa a light
bag. This I took. Also h had under
hla arm a good-elaed tin box In a blue
bag, such aa lawyer carry. Th box I
knew would contain hla paper, and his
paper were hla money. Ho 1 thought I
would do aa much anUchUf to hla prop
erty a I could, and 1 took that box.
Thea I went away, leaving him, ther.
Ita hla whit cheek and gray hair.
and hi eye wide open. I felt sick when
I looked at thoa eye, because they re
proached m. I reeled and daggered as
left him.
"I waa not going to walk along the
road. That would hav been a fool's
act I turned straight off and struck for
the open moor. Intending to make for
1 1 j mouth. And I remembered a place
where th box could be hidden away, a
safe place, where no on would ever
think of looking for It ao that everybody
ahould go on believing that th old man
had been robbed aa well aa murdered.
Thl place waa right over th down, and
on th other side.
1 climbed th hill Oa th way I
passed the Gray Wether Ston. and I
thought I would hid th bag of money
In a hoi I knew of at th foot of It.
Nobody would look for It ther. Not
twenty people In a year ever go near th
Gray Wether. Then I walked down the
hill on the other aide and got to Crime-
pound, wher I meant to hid th other
bag with the boi la It
"Tell them, If you over get away from
thia awful place, that the box lie on
th aid nearest Hamll, where three
atone piled one above th other make
sort of llttt cave. Th stone are In
the corner, and are th first you com to
on your way down. Ther I put th
box. I went on walking all the way
without stopping except to alt down
bit to Plymouth. There I got a newe-
paper, but I could read nothing of the
murder. Then I took the train to Fal
mouth, and waited ther for three days,
and bought a newspaper every day one
would surely think that a murder In a
quiet country place would be reported
bnt I could aot find a single word about
my murder.
"Then I was able to tak passage on
board a German ahlp bound for New
York, I got to New York and I stayed
there till my money was all gone, which
did not tak long. Ther 1 mad the
acquaintance of wait men, who told me
to go with them, for they were going
West They were all. I found, men who
had done something, and the police were
anxlona to tak them. I never told them
what I had done, but tbey knew It was
something, and when tbey found out that
I knew nothing about robbery and burg
lary and couldn't cheat at gambling and
the like, they set It down that It must be
murder. But they cared nothlug, aud I
went along with them."
"lour confession, my friend, aald the
German, stopping at this point, "of
what followed. the horse stealing adven
ture, your own escape, and the untimely
end of your companions; your honesty lu
California, and Its interruption; and your
experience of a Californian prison is
ail interesting, but I cannot waate paper
upou It. I return, therefore, to the ma
terial part of the con fission. And with
this I conclude."
"I desire to state that from the first
n.ght that I arrived la New York till
now I have every night been visited by
the ghost of the man I killed. My uncle
rtands beside the bed, whether it Is In
a bed In a crowded room, or on the
ground in the open, or In a cabin at sea,
or on the deck, he always comes every
night Ills face la white, and the wound
in his forehead Is bleeding. 'Come back
to England,' be says, 'and confess the
crime.'
"I must go back and give myself np
to Justice. I will make no more strug
gles against my fate. But because I
am uncertain whether I ahall lire to
get back, and because I know not how
to escape from this tsmnd, I wish to
have my confesnion witrrcn and algned,
ao that if I die the truth may be told."
Thus ended the paper.
"Ho, aald the big erman, "you ac
knowledge thia to be your full and true
confession T
"I do."
"Sign it, then." He produced from his
bag a pencil and gave It to the man, who
signed, In a trembling hand, "David
Leighan." Under the signature the Ger
man wrote, "Witnessed by me, Baron
Serglu von Holstein." This done, he
replaced the note book In bis wallet
"The reason why I wanted you to sign
the paper to-night," he aald, "is that
there seems as If theee might be a chance
of your getting away from th island,
"How?"
"Uok ont to sea."
They were almost at the extreme south
point of tbo Island the maps call It
St. George. In the west the shores of
New Britain could be seen, because the
aun was just sinking behind them; to th
south and the east there was open sea.
"I can see nothing.
"Look through my glass, then."
"I can see a ship a two-masted sail
Ing ahlp."
"She is In quest of blackbirds. She
will probably send a boat ashore. For
tunately for you, the people are all gone
off to fight You will, therefore, if she
does send a boat here, have a chance of
getting away. If she sails north, am
aends a boat ashore fifty mile or so fur
ther ud th coast that boat's crew will
be speared. Now, my friend, th auu
is about to aet In ten minute It will
be dark, and we have neither candle nor
matches. Go to your bed and await tha
further commands of the II err Ghost
your respectable uncle. On th eve of
rour departure, If you are to go to-mor
row, he will probably be mor peremp
tory and mor terrifying than usual. Go
to bad. David, and await th Hrr
Ghost"
(To b continued.)
rVYWW :. 5L In.
Tau about yer slmph'oy concerts, with
their furbelows aud frills.
An' yer recitals aa' yef prodigies, wtth
their quaver an their trills
Why, fer real soul stirring music, I'd
hav you uuderstand,
Thee pew-faugled doiu'a ain't a patch on
our old Malnevlll aUud.
That 'ere band has a history. Way back
In alxty-two
It marched away with bannera gay to
cheer the Bora la Blue,
Aa' when th war waa over aad back
they'd com to atay
Thar warn't aa many, not by half, as
when they marched away.
Ho w alboat had to mak th hull thing
over, so to speak,
Aa' w gathered U the school hous fer
to practice twice a week;
Aa' we'd pared on I coral loo Day,
when 'twas hot enough to br lie
But we didn't care, when the women
fotka 'ud war their hand and
anille.
iohn Clinton waa th leader (h was
Mayor of Malnavlll. too),
Aa' of you'd a bit of talent why, he'd
get It out o' you;
An' there waa Tufta an' Stevens, East
t man. Gilky. Oweoa, Shawan,
Legge and Cain,
Dwlnetl and Shields (the tuba player),
Develvua. Witham and McClaln.
Of course there's lots of others, their
sona and their grandsons
la all more'a three handred but them
ar th oldest ooe
That did th orgaolstn'; but Death' de
vastating hand
Uas only apared three feller from that
first old Malnevllle Band.
Aa' then our great band waggto 'twas
the regulstion kind
With the driver's seat high up In front
an' the drummer's up behind.
Aa' t'othsr seats sloped grajerly, and
well. I'M explain to you
By aaylu' they resembled jest a great,
big. shaller U.
Twas built right here In Malnevllle. an'
the blacksmith bossed the Job
His surname slips my mem'ry, but his
given nsuie was Bob
An' old "Daddy" Stearna he made the
wheela. so powerful, strong and fit
That, thou fir and forty years hav
passed, tbey re stroug and stlddy
Tit
A man la rich In proportion to tha
thing ha can afford to let alona. Tb
rean.
runnln' gear was raller, but th
waggta It was red,
Aa' feather pkinise. red, whit and blue,
adorned each horse's head.
Aa' wtth them sit horse prsnclu' with
all their might and main,
Hlch an Insplrln' spectacle I'll never ae
again.
They subscribed six hundred dollar fer
to fix ut thst old band,
But the bulldln' didn't coat much, fer
th hull town took a hand,
Aa' th Squlr au' th Mayor'd com la
whenever work was slack.
Aa' th minister 'ud oftea doff bU coal
aa' tak a whack.
W played or first engagement la th
year ef fiftr-aln.
Down to Mason, on July th Fourth, th
weather It was fin.
Aa' aa w started play In', with th drum
a goln thr-r-apl
That 'ere part of Warren county was a
credit to the map.
Onc't a week wo gav a concert ao th
Malnevllle folks could hesr,
An' we Wide a heap o' money at engage
ments fur an' near.
But at night when home returnlu' we'd
wake our kith an' kin,
An' rouse the eleepln' echoes with th
tralna of "Horn Aglu."
Well, the band got so famous they was
wanted everywhere,
To plar at celtbratlous, air, an' at th
County Fair.
Aa' at Ibanon an' Wilmington, an' aa
fur aa Murrowtown,
la fact from aeverat counties did glowla'
prals reeoun'.
But now the organtaatlon that was one
th city 'a pride
Is boated up, an' all the boys ar scat
tered fur and wide.
One' In th legislator, and one'a aa
actor great
An' one lu Congress represents thia dee
trlct of the Stat.
An' now the old band waggln. with all Ita
glory ahed,
Like a faded specter of the paat It stands
la Stephen's ahed.
An' sometime when children play In It
It heave a creaky algb,
Aa If longln' for Ita cronies, aud th day
that hav goo by.
But Ilk th old band waggln', I am
ahaky now and old,
An' I cal'lat soon to take a trip where
all th streets are gold.
Bat I feel sure thst some old romrad
will grasp m by the hand
An' aay, " 'Member how we used to play
In that Old Maloerllle Hand?"
St Loula Chronicle.
HONOR ETHAN ALLEN.
SCoaament Erected to the Memory of
'th Hero of Tlconderoge.
Thia year on tha holiday known In
Vermont aa Bennington Battle Day,
there waa dedicated on the farm at
one time owned by General Ethan Al
len, of Revolutionary fame, a tower In
memory of the hero of Tlconderoga.
.' jit I r a '.
mm
i . m-:
"if f-' '";..
KTKAN AlXKJf UEMOHIAL TOWKB.
Ethan Allen Hitchcock, Secretary of
the Interior and a direct descendant
of7 Ethan Allen, waa' present aa tht
official representative of Prealdent
Roosevelt
The farm, of 800 acre, la located
within the limit of the city of Bur
lington, about three miles from the
City HalL Before th time of tht
Revolution It waa owned by a atanch
Tot, who on account of hia dialoyalty
to the then embryo State of Vermont
waa forced to leave the country. Hla
eatate waa aubsequcntly confiscated by
the State of Vermont and the prop
erty turned over to the land commis
sioner of the State. By him It waa
aold to General Ethan Allen, and he
waa living upon It at the time of hla
death, In 1780.
In 1002 the farm wai purchased by
W. J. Van Patten, of Burlington, and
he presented that part of the farm
known aa Indian Rock, a bluff, from
the summit of which the Adlrondncka
and Green mountain are seen, to the
Vermont Society of the Son of the
American Revolution, on condition
that they take atcpe without delay to
erect on the rock a memorial tower to
Vermont' great hero, Ocnernl Ethan
Allen. The project wna puahed by tht
society with considerable enthusiasm
and the necessary funds secured.
The tower la of a bold military or
der. The dimensions are 40 feet high,
24 feet square at the base and 20 feet
at the narrow part, the battlementi
being wide enough no that the top coit
respond In alze with the bate.
Tht name Indian Rock has been giv
en to the spot by reason of tht legend,
which la aald to be well established,
that It was the point of outlook for tha
Indiana for long agea before tht whltt
man cam Into thia country. Tht rock
haa an elevation of nearly 200 feet and
afford an txtenalrt view in all directions.
Tht children art wearing tht kind
of aandala aeen on th feet of Justice
In tht picture.
t '
Wit, when wt amattura tngagt la It
la aomttlmta pretty gnaatl.