The Pontypridd Chronicle and Workman's News

DESPERATE STRUGGLE WITH AN A R ME Ik BURGLAR. At the Bradford Borough Police-court, a charge of burglary and attempted murder has been heard, against a man named David flaunt, who is 4o year*, of age, is kllown to the police by several aliases, illclllding that of "Mysterious Johnnie," and wiiO has only recently served a period of penal servi- tude. On the morning of dune 2o, about half-pastl three o'clock, Mr. Henry Jackson, son or Mr. G. T, eackson, of Easby-road. Bradford, heard a, creaking noise 011 the staircase. He got up au-| met the prisoner 011 the landing. Asked his out- ness, he assumed an intoxicated attitude, and ea«d he had got into the wrong house. Mr. Jackson, however, sprang upon him and shouted for iieip. His father and brother-in-law at once came to his assistance, and overpowered the prisoner. Tee latter a¡;k:>d them not to hurt him and promised ll) be quiet. They therefore relaxed their hold of him, whereupon lie suddenly pulled out a revolver, which it was found was loaded with ball cartridges in five chambers, and exclaimed, I will shoot you all dead! Fortunataly his action was observed 11\ time, and the weapon was wrenched from his pos- sesion. A desperate struggle then ensued, but ultimately the burglar was overpowered, and hi, legs t.iod with a clothes-line. The police a'so ;tr, rived, and HII searching the prisoner a quantity- of silver-goods and other property, as well as ;t trk lantern ail 1 a burglar's kit, were lound upon him. The proceeds of several robherles in the county- w-Te also found upon him, and other charges of burglary are to be preferred against him. I'll» pn^ soner was committed to the assizes for trial.

BURIED ALIVE. My AXtm JJBMfcius (MM. Znmm Cw -1. CHAPTER V.—Continued. r;o it Is written that .Lsay Jbrancftf—war aanrcrea to excessive indulgence in iilcolipl, which has ter- minated in heari-flii-HMise and death, that her hus- band and nurse have tried in vain to resirain her, ■ind that they are both above suspicion in the mat- li-r. After this, the insurance company pays Mr. Hessliiigton the five thousand pounds for which he has insured her life, without a murmur; and there -is mi end of the matter. But in my heart I know that she has been murdered I The funeral is a very grim affair. Frank Wilton stands aloof from his stepfather at the grave, and contemptuously rejects the hand which that gentle- man holds out to him before the assembled multi- tude. Bravo, Frank I you are more my hero than ever, when I hear you have done this. From the day of Lady Frances's death, I refuse to address Mr. Hesslington as "uncle," or to treat him in any way save as one who has power over me. At first lie complains about, and seems inclined to resent, this change in my demeanour, but after a very short time he bears it philosophically, and seems to regard it as of little or no importance whe- ther or not my relations with him are friendly, And when I find that he treats me with this abso- lute contempt. I get frightened, and the loneliness of the llurst is more appalling to me than ever. For it is perfect, not comparative loneliness now. !'l»e servants are a darked-faced crew, sullen and reserved in manner towards me, and noisily and re-served in manner towards me, and noisily and arsely jocular in the house. Mr. Hesslington makes no effort to restrain my movements any lon- •-er, but he keeps me short of pocket-money, declar- ing that it is his duty, as my guardian, to check my hereditary tendency to extravagance. My mourn- ing is getting very shabby; the crape is so rusty that I can no longer be said to wear black. But I have no spirit now to demand and order lIew dresses. Once he forces me to go to afternoon tea with him at the Vicarage, when the Misses Grey treat him as," such a dear, nice man," and tioiic me pointedly. I find that under their genial jiiiiuence he can m- sume geniality also. He gives them the pounds to- wards the school-feast when they biv ik un at Mid- Minimeiv aiitPten pounds towards doing sonietiiin, iiiike the organ a less- unbearable instrumen Ilitn it is at present. Altogether, he is in the odou; »f sanetity with the Greys, and I am cvideiulj iooked upon as-thatgirl who ran after Mr. Wilton so indiscreetly. I see them whispering to my guar- dian about nje; Thought cannot hear what they s«y, I know that tItescwinsonM, phre-hearted girls "e coiiipjetely taken in by the false, and have 110 sympathy with the true. As we are driving home tI!IS day, Mr. Hesslington says, with repulsive vivaeity— We shall be having Arthur home next wee k you must have some new dresses, Florence, to deck your beauty properly in hts artistic eyes." "Black will be my only wear till I leave tlu Hurst and you ait behind me." I say, emphatically; ;,nd he gives me a dark loplc^which makes me wish with all my heart that it was not upon the cards that my death will be of benefit to him CHAPTER VI. THE REVELATION OF THE NOTE-BOOK. The news that Arthur is coming home so soon to vaUnt his "success," as lie -calls it (lie has got a picture hung on the line at: the Royal Academy), and to claim my interest in his abominable work, and my promise to listen to him, puts "a sorrow's crown of sorrow" on my head. My uncle has iso- lated me so completely from .the neighbouring fami- lies, and lias so brought pver tlie Chcistiau charity of the Vicarage by his,subscriptions to their school and diseased organ fund, that I have literally no one to whom to appeal. My aunts, the Misses Bab- t'ingtnn,' have made ho sign Frank Wilton has de- parted without a thought of me I am altogether friendless. I haven't even a' faithful servant, for Dawson has an aim in view which renders service-, even of the light kind demanded by me, insufferable to her. I am absolutely alone aud helpless, and this because I haven't the moral courage to walk to the nearest police-station and declare Mr. Hessling- ton tmbe the murderously-inclined old villain I be- lieve him to be. Can itny one who reads this comprehend at all thfe strength of the fetters which are binding me ? I am alone, understand and understand further, that 1 have been alone for nearly seven months, and before I came here I never had to take thonglU for myself in any matter, small or great. I am quite alone. I know that if I oppose my uncle he can prove that he found me running off surreptitiously to see a young man, with whom he had forbidden me to hold intercourse—and, after all, of what can I make a definite complaint ? All 1 can say is that I am miserable, that my aunt died suddenly in a way which shocked me, that my guardian is unsympathetic and harsh in his method, that I am kept out of the society in which I have a right to be, and that I am filled with a dread, which is beyond expression and past relief, on account of a foolish promise I once made to my cousin Arthur. (Oh, Frank! as I think of this coming Arthur, how I long to hear your voice assuring me that you can avert from me the frightful fate of being married to my more than disliked cousin.) One morning, in despair, I make my way to My Lady's Garden; the housekeeper loves Frank, and will be my friend. But the garden is neglected. the cottage is shut up, and the housekeeper is gone Saddened and disappointed, I turn away, and once again in that weird little wood I meet my cousin Arthur, scuffling away in that smooth, Oriental way of his. He is dressed in the best fashion of the day. he looks like a bridegroom going forth to meet his bride I His mahogany-coloured eyes are fnll of fire and fervour, and I know the man is going to pro- claim himself my lover, and claim my promise to listen to him. Bah! I would rather listen to the advances of a rattlesnake I I have brought you all the press notices of m y jezeb lie says, turning over a lot of news- paper slips with his thick, fleshy fingers there are crowds before her all day she's the thing in the Academy. Millais told a friend of mine that lie" 1 have given half his life to have painted her, and the President says I'm the coming man. What, more do you want, Florence ? "A few words of truth from you," I cry, in a rage that makes me regardless of all consequences. "Go and brag about, yourself and your 111 iserabie successes to some happier girl, who may be con- science-free to listen to such rubbish. I have lived a tragedy since you left-and a romance, too I add, defiantly rearing my head up as high as it wiii go, and thinking of that one walk with Frank Wii. ton. lIe drops his voice then, and suavely filters forth a few sentences about his stepmother's death, ana then just as 1 am congratulating myself upon hi* mind being diverted from the dangerous subject, Ju? breaks out with— u You and I must come to a clear understanding to-morrow, Florence. I don't like leaving you ho; any longer. I believe you'll die if you don't get a change." (My own feai about myself, put into words by one I regard as an enemy.) During the remainder of the walk home he ah stained from discussing the home rule, aud talks ,f foreign politics. Arthur is unquestionably (. ir i nicer or wiser than when he left us in the e;Hy spring. He does not quite succeed, but he does try to keep the big 'I 'out of the conversation, while I listen to him only. I tolerate him, but when f steal a look at his dusky visage, and tawny eye: and slippery, slouching gait, the ensemble is tl") much for me, and I long to get away from him. quite away, where I shall never even hear of him again. We three, Mr. Hesslington, his promising l'()11 and heir, and my miserable self, sit down to dinner together this night, and again Mr. Hesstingt, i broaches the subject of my dress. "It's a bad sign when a young girl is reganDe- of her personal appearance," lie says, frowllil at me, and Arthnr looks at me critically, says— "m design a dress for you, Florence. Ur, Jezebel's costume, modified, will be the very tli to snit you; there's a rich purple scarf, ana ju-t little touch of gold in it, that will go wonderiui well with your auburn hair." "Thank you," I say, curtly, but I shall we: r black while I remain here. me fatTTer a~ncf SOTT wtcumigq giniieee met SMRRCE full of hateful meaning, and then Mr. Hesslington says, with a forced laugh— ,-It strikes me that before long you will wear what Arthur please* "If my taste i* -aj|>"ilted, you certainly will not wear black," A drawls ont, in his mono- tonously soft voi, Black makes you look like a shop-girl." I The blood ruah^ ef to my cheeks, but I do not deign any reply. Not but what some of the girls in Jay's and Peter Robinson's are deuced good-loooking, but J want you to take the shine out of some of the best- dressed women in London next year, and you'll never do that in black." "I shall not be in London next year," I say, as firmly as my indignation will allow me to speak. "As soon as I am of age I shall go to my aUlas, the Misses Babbington, in Warwickshire." "That I'll be sworn you won't," Arthur says, rudely, looking at his father, and my hatelul guar dian smiles maliciously, as lie says- Our dear Florence has still to learn that obedience is the best and only quality a woman can and need have. We'll commence teaching her without delay. Now, Florence, a milliner from York will be here to-morrow to take your pattern and receive my orders for some of her most fashion- able dresses." •' My mother has not been dead eight monthr yet," I cry out. I will not wear a co!«it.u-.j:.| dress." You will wear what I order you to wear, foot." Mr. Hessliiigton shouts at. me, striking the j;i] with such vehemence that the glasses dance ay-.u". and the servants, who are waiting, g%g!e at iv abasement and discomfiture. I feel nervous, broken, and shattered, a-iei f cannot even fly to my mini for peace, for there is Dawson to watch me with her lowering looks It is so to-night, for when, baffled, taunted, ;ul insulted beyond endurance, I escape from nr. 1: dian and his son, I find Dawson in posseMsio:- j my room. She has evidently been reading-, tV.r „e shuffles a black leather-bound book hastily int.. r pocket as I approach, and mutters something .(ii- ut having been busy arranging my jewellery.7, < r- tainly my jewel-case is wide-open, hut its'nnii look to me, as I cast a hasty glr.eee round I'. in greater disorder than usual. My h !,gM 0 alone is so great that I give a more .>c: order than I have ever exerted myself to givi before. Go now, Dawson. I wish to be alone.' :0 You're sure to want me for something befon you go to bed, Miss Babbington, and I shall be runt; for just as I've settled to my work or my book in my own room." "Go now!" I repeat authoritatively and, with a muttered protest about my "tantrums," she goe- out of the rooms, and in a moment, I have locked the door behind her." It is a lovely summer's night, and for a long tim I sit by the open window, and" think" by the soft moonlight. But when I hear the clocks striking ihe half-hour after ten, I draw down my blinds, and light my caudles, and as 1 am moving about else room doing this, I stumble over something. I piet the something up, and find it to be the black leather bound liook which 1 had seen Dawson shuffle into her pocket. "Her note-book, evidently," I think; and as I fling it down on the table, it flutters open, and I see and recognise my guardian's hand- writing, What can lie have been writing in Dawson's note- look ? I scent danger in the air, and self-preserva- :ion being the first law, I obey it now, and rewl •vhas I fed concerns me. It is dated April 10th, 1*77 (just a week or two after his poor wife's mys- terious death), and runs as follows:- 1, Thomas Hesslington, promise to marry you, 31«ry Dawson, within one month after the death of my ward, Florence Habbington, on condition that sfie dies, or disappears safely for ever, before she attains the age of twenty-one, and provided no question concerning her deatii or disappearance arises to throw suspicion on either of us." I tremble as one over whom the shadow of death :ias already fallen, as I read these precious words; but a minute after I regain my composure, and set :¡¡y'eH to seriously and deliberately consider how I nay escape being killed like a rat in a cage. At any moment this desperate, vile woman may creep MI upon me, and give me a poisoned draught, c poisoned food; or she may suffocate me in my •!o«-p; or cut. my throat, and arrange things so a,. to make it appear that I have committed suicide. I must escape from this place- disappear," with out her fell ngeney I But how ? As I am deliberating, she knocks sharply at tin- door, aud turns the lian(ile-evidetitly she has missed her book. For half a moment I think of con- fronting her with the written record of their guilty scheme but another half second's reflection con »iiiees me that this would be madness she is a des- perate woman, and if I defy her, she is quite capable of strangling me on the spot: At any rate, 111." excited imagination pictures her as quite capable of perpetrating this enormity. Accordingly, "What do you want, Dawson ?" I say, drowsily, carefully placing the pocket-book on the floor where I had found it. Then 1 leisurely go over to the door, un- lock, and open it, and Dawson bouncejjj^ii, looking much flurried. I came back to see if you didn't want me after all, Miss Babbington," she begins, her restless eyes searching the floor rigorously the while. She sees the criminating book directly,'and, with an excla- mation of relief, bears down upon it, and gathers it. up closely and safely. A lit tie washing account- book. I must have slipped it out of my pocket before I left the room, Miss Babbington," she says, holding her recovered treasure up for me to see that -he is speaking words of truth and soberness. Then, still holding her little washing-account book firmly, she proceeds to offer me assistance, which I promptly decline. Let me brush your hair out, .Miss Babbington." No; my head aches to-night, Dawson, and will "Illy submit to being handled by myself," I say. sneaking sleepily and sol after making one or two f;;int offers of assistance, and directing one or ".vo glances at me, that seem to penetrate into mv jinermost thoughts, my estimable serving-woman takes her final leave of me for this night. So, this is their plan, is it ? 1, the unfortunate neiress, am to die or disappear, and my fortune is to fail unquestioned into the hands of my vile, untrustworthy guardian, who is to reward the in- strument that is to work his will with his dis- honoured name, share in his wealth and social status, and his blood-stained hand. But this crowning wickedness shall not come to pass I am young, and the love of life is strong within me I I dress myself warmly and comfortably, and ran- sack my jewel-case for all my most valuable orna- ments. I clasp all the necklaces and bracelets I value most round my neck and arms, and put as many rings on as my fingers will hold; the rest I ie,ive for the disappointed Dawson. Then, when lead sleep seems to be the pervading spirit oi the house, I will make my first attempt to stc-ai away. Both my bed and dressing-room doors are fastened ecurely on the olitsi(le. In fact, 1 am a prisoner, II 1 Dawson is my gaoler For another hour I sit Junking of all manner of means by which I may effect my escape from this den of iniquity, goading myself into desperation by conjuring up all kinds of tortures to which Dawson may subject me in attaining her end. At the end of that hour I have made up my mind to get down from my window Oil to the terrace by means of the ivy, and jasimine, and rose-bushes, with which the front ot the house is covered. The clinging branches fall away from the walls of the irouso tinder my weight. The thorns of the rose-bushes tear and mutilate my hands and face rightfully :'s I slide down. But never mim)! I 4'iuo the terrace in safety, though I come down with a scuffle that sends the gravel flying from -iii(lei- me. I With a heart lightened of its heaviest burden— the dread of a violent death—1 am lightly tripping along past the study window in order to get as speedily as possible into the high-road, when my name is shouted out, and my odious cousin Arthur lounges through the open study window, cigar in mouth, and a glass of brandy-and-soda in his hand. "What are you up to?" he asks, jeeriugly. I've been standing here watching you come down. You climb like a cat! I say, it's lucky for you that the governor is gone to bed. If he knew of this he'd clap you into a lunatic asylum—he would, on my word. Go back quietly to your room now, and if you listen to reason from me in the morning, I'll say nothing about it; if you're obstinate, you'll suffer." — —————— ou can t want nie to niarrv Voir vt>an «, «» ho. I-Jidik. v„u,. I ^Te.Si.Sv" rejlk^ "ir «'»" im&ubl Don t care a bit about your dislike, my dear • oo many women are wiklabont me, for ine to wani > Ik> bt.red with your tepid love; but I mean j larry you, for all. that" 1 ffiu" ( To be ccitinue l.

A PERILOUS ADVENTURE. Two young eaglets have been captured from a nes £ by a youllg cragsmen at Ness Shetland Rocke. which are nearly 500ft high. The young man was let over the precipice with a rope 115ft. long, but. it was found too short. He divested himsetf of the rope, and, after clambering over some dangerous rocks, he came on the nest, containing two birds, which .were about a month old. When he attempted to take them the largest one fixed its talous in his arms, tearing the flesh; they were put in his jersey. Taking the burden in his teeth, he secured the rope round him once more, and arrived safely at the top, after an arduous climb of fully an hour and a half. The birds were safely brought to town, and appearedt to be vigorous and thriving.

BURGLARY AT WOODGREEN. At the E-imontoir Petty Sessions, before Messrs. Latham ansi Doe, divisional justices, Arthur* Wiikins. (."• ;), described :'3 a waiter, of (j. Thornton- terri?ce, Denmark-street. Barking, charged with burglariously breaking into and entering Norfolk House, Lord ship-lane Woodgreen, and stealing therefrom ii. number of articles, the property of John Bragg. Prisoner, it appeared, entered the house by clijitbitig over Llit- bitrs of tite breakfast-ro(on win- dow. He was mvt by Police-constable 154 N. carrying the articles, and was apprehended. Pri- soner, who admitted his guilt, and said he had been working i-n a st'Uieyard for seven months to supports his wife (Hid seven children, was committed for trial.

TERRIBLE CHIME IN ROME. A correspondent in Rome telegraphs:—A terrible crime has been committed here. An old maa wlitk. kfpt a smali shop in the square of the Ponte SL Angelo was to have been imprisoned for sellings obscene photographs. Tlie other morning smoke was seen to issue from the shop, and, on it being broken open his corpse and that of his wife were found in the dingy back premises which served as the dwell- ing of the couple, cut about the throat and half- burn. to ashes. As soon as the fire was extinguished thfe bodies wire dragged out into the square and covered with a blanker. Pending the judical inquiry, it is suspected that the man, who was nearly twice as old as his wife; and frequently taxed her with infi- delity, murdered her and burnt her body, aDd tbeik cut his own throat and set the shop on fire.

ATTEMPTED MURDER AT OXFORD. The other afternoon an attempted double murder took place in Dover's-row, an outlying part of Sa. Clement's, Oxford. It appears that a man, narnett Hiram Bowell, has had his suspicions aroused through the constant visits of another man, named Simmonds, formerly the landlord of the Old White House, on the Abingdon-road, close to Oxford, to,, his house during his absence at work, and he was informed by a relative that Simmonds was at the house. He immediately left his work, and on find- ing Simmonds there he snatched up a well-worn bread-knife and attacked him. After wounding Simmonds in the tliroat and hand, the handle of the knife came off in the struggle, and this undoubtedly. saved Simmonds from further injury. He got- away, and then Bowell attacked his wife with his pocket-knife, and so severely cut her throat in two places that lie left her for dead. On quitting the house he was followed by Simmonds, who informed Police-sergeant Keen, and he was arrested, admit- ting having committed the deed. Both the wounded* persons were removed to the Radcliffe Infirmary, where their injuries were attended to. The woman, lies in a precarious state.

DISTURBANCES IN SERVIA. Telegrams reporting revolutionary riets at Bel- grade, and serious disturbances all over Servia, has reached Vienna. The increase of taxes rendered necessary by the late war seems to have proroked much discontent, and in districts where the pea- santry are very poor the tax collectors have been badly received, and in some cases have undergone rough treatment. The Prince of Montenegro, how- mer, denies that these agitations have been instiga- ted. in any way by his son-in-law, Peter Karageor- gevics. Prince Nicholas is now staying at Baden, near Vienna. It is stated that he has given satis- factory assurances at the Foreign Office with regard to Karageorgevics' pretended complicity in th- Servian disturbances. He is, indeed, understood to, have negotiated a loan for public works in Monte- negro with one of the leading banks at Vienna. Had his assurances at the Foreign Office not been trusted such a loan could not possibly have been raised. Despatches from Semlin state that in many country districts the peasantry are refusing to pay taxes. This movement is being stimulated by M* icistics and his supporters. Cheers for Karageor- gevics are being raised by some of the malcontents. ->

A DASTARDLY ASSAULT. At the Birmingham Sessions, Thomas Cox (31). polisher, has been indicted on two counts, charging him with unlawfully assaulting and beating Ev, Itust and Annie Higget Mr. Hopkins prosecuted, and the prisoner was defended by Mr. Fitzgerald. According to the evidence of Mrs. Higget, who with the other prosecutrix lives in a house in one of the courts it, Sun Street, she was awakened out of her sleep late 011 the night of April 3 by a violent knocking at the door. She took 110 notice of it then, but on hearing the door burst open went downstairs, and there met the prisoner, who wa& alleged to have "something shining" in his hainl. she shouted for assistance. Mrs. Rust came to hep* aid, whereupon the prisoner turned his attention t K her and struck her. Mrs. Higget's arm was bruised, and Urs. Hust sustained an injury on tlve leg, whiyl^ it was suggested, was caused by a knife. The. medical witness stated, however, that the injury must have been inflicted with a poker or some other blunt instrument, or by a fall. When arresteil the mall admitted that he went to the house to give Mrs. Higget a thrashing. — Mr. Fitzgerald, in ad- dressing the jury, said of course he could nofcx justify such a proceeding as that, but he denied, on behalf of the prisoner, that he used any weapon at ail. As the injury to Mrs. llust was not cau?ei 1 by a knife, and there was no proof of the priso ier- having any other weapon, counsel argued that it; must have been the result of a fall.-Tlll) uiry found the prisoner guilty only of a common assau.t on Mrs. Higget.—The Deputy Recorder sai,l the*, assault was a most brutal one, especially so as th^ prisoner went to the prosecutrix's house in the deal* of the night to commit it He would be sentenced to twelve iijon tljs' iijjprisonnieti t, with hard labour.