CHAPTER XIII.

Te Aroha News, Volume VI, Issue 275, 23 June 1888, Page 4

CHAPTER XIII.

Till. !\D <>> Till I>K\M\ — HOW lAMks I OLIUihNuNILSM I UMI lOK ITS KHUITIIL O\\ N 1 Ks. Tin. e\enttul day had ,ini\ed. The month ot giace that Mai> EKcy had stipulated lor had pa&^ed b\ , and the morning nt the da\ h.icl como that was to make her the wife ot John Cassidy. She had hoped that something would tianbpire that would lcleasc her ttom a tale that bhe (headed moie than death, but no hand had been extended to rescue her Her lather had really urged her to the marriage, and regarded it as a very proper tiling, and the only woid .she had had from Pollard was to theeflcct that she should cany out her agreement and depend upon him. Depend upon him tor what '. 11 she manied Cassidy what was thcie that he could rescue her fiom '.' 1 1 will do it,' she said to her&elt. ' But. thank (iod, 1 only agreed t--> marry him— l did not arrive to li\e. ' To put otl the dreaded moment a* long as possible, .she had stipulated that the eoiomon^ should be peifoimed at her own home, in the evening at eight o'clock. 1 Then we shall take the eight and «v hah train for the east,' said Cassidy. ' A.syou please, 1 was the only reply that with -ludible : but the thought passed through her mind : ' A leap from the train will do as well as poison.' Eight o'clock came. The hou&c was ero\s ded with guests, foi so John Cassidy dc-hed, and Mr and Mrs Elsey acquiescing, Mary oilered no opposition. Cassidy was anxious that the ailair should be ayS brilliant as possible, and, to that end, he had invited all the leading families of the country. He intended trom t.hit> time out to take a position socially in the community —to acquire a standing quite different from that of earlier years. In short, Mr Cassidy proposed to be the gieat man of that community, and the grandeur of his wedding was to be lirst step in that direction. At precisely eight o'clock, the bride and bridegroom made their appearance. Ca&sidy'& iace wore an expression of triumph which he did not attempt to conceal. This was the end ot years of scheming and plotting, and a glorious ending it was. lie had now all that he had played for. Mary Elsey his wife ; Elsoy Farm hers, only in name, for ho would control it ; beauty, grace, roh'nemont, and intelligence in a wile, wealth unlimited and social position assured ! John Cassidy was exultant, as he had a right to be. And he was not a little proud of the fact that he had won all this in the face of difliculties that, to anyone else, would have been insurmountable. Bates, James Pollard, Mary Elsey, all, all again&X him, and lie had met thena, oue by one, and conquered them. How he exulted as he thought of the trick by which he acquired possession as he thought of silencing his rival and his outwitting Pollard ! There was no man living who entertained so comfortable an opinion ot himself as did John Cassidy that night. Mary Elsey was on his arm. She shuddered at evory step she took, for there was something in the very touch of the man that shocked and disgusted her. ; A deathly pallor ovorspread her face, and there was a wildness in hor eyes that was j fearful to look upon. The pair, with the usual retinuo, approached the clergyman, who stood awaiting them. The questions wcrt asked, the responses made, and John Cassidy and Mary Elsey were man and wife, '

At this moment, the hall door was flung violently open, and two men, dirty and travel-stained, entered the room. John Cassidy started as though a ghost had appeared to him, and dropping the hand of his new wife, sprang backward with a wild, frightened look. JViary Elsey uttered a wild shriek, and fell fainting into the arms of Paul Bates, while Pollard, fixing hi& eyes on Cassidy, paused a moment. Cassidy became himself a moment, and stepping quickly to where Bates was supporting the inanimate form of Mary, he hor arm with the exclamation : ' Jb is my duty, sir, to care for this lady. She is my wife.' ' Wite or no wife,' exclaimed Bates, throwing him away from her, ' touch her at your peril. In the sight of heaven she is not your wife. Stand back, you scoundld — stand back 'I have something to say] to this man," os.clu.imcd Pollard deliberately. ' I desire all here to hear what 1 say, and note what L do. That scoundrel, that thief, that trickster, that despoiler of simple old men, i»d persecutor of helpless women, that — ' ' Have I no protection against these rufiians ?' shouted Cassidy, livid with passion, and with a etrange foreboding of impending danger. lAmlto be insulted on an occasion like this by a fugitive from justice T ' That, would-be-murderer,' resumed Pollard, ' has forced Mary Elsev into this mairia^e. He defrauded her father, as I well know, out of Elsey Farm. He hired a common cut-throat to kill the man she lover], he—' 'Take care, -)iin Pollard, take care,' hissed Cassidy. ' 1 shall tuke care. lam past fear of anything. 1 shall take care that you do not reap the bunch' t of your scoundrelism. 1 shall take cure that your iruifc turns to ashes. Listen, all. When this villain had, a^f he supposed, killed his rival, he followed the broken-hearted gill with threats of turning her mother and father, old and helpless as they are, into the streets — of taking- her bi others and sisters from where "he had placed them, and by such means compelled her to consent to marry him. I was her only help, and thiough his machinations and my own folly, I could not be near her. ' By this time, Alary had recovered, and was listening in a wild way to what Pollard was saying. 'I could only advise her. If she refused' to marry him he held the wealth of Elsey Farm — 1 knew Cassidy so well that I yen lured to advise her to marry him. ' 1 You ?' exclaimed Paul Bates. 'Yes, I. Nor did I lefc her know that you were living, lor had she known that, she nc\ei would have married him. But 1 told her to lecjuire of him, prior to the marriage, a deed ot ELsey Farm, which she did. Khey Farm belongs now to Mary Elsey, or Mary Casaidy." "To what end is this recital?' sneered Ca^sidv. 'Mary Eisoy is now Mary Cassidy — Elsey Farm, it i.- line, is hers, but — ' • I tell this story to explain what 1 made up my mind to do. When hunted and hounded by you, as \va& Mary Elsey, I became a desperate man. Mary Elsey ib jour wile, -John Cas&idy ; in one minute she will be jour widow !' And, with the.spiing of a tiger, Jamet Pollaid sprang at his thioat. Bates stai ted back. The reason for Pollard's action was plain to him. lie knew now why he had been detained — v>hy Pollard would nob let him go to Biov>nhelm till he could £>o with him — he saw why Pollard had so sonfidently assured him that he had it in his power to save Mary Else>, and the farm as well. There was the wildest confusion. Down upon the Hoor went Cassidy, witli PollardV sLiong hands encircling hi» throat. ' Let go my throat !' gasped Cassidy, ' you arc strangling me.' 1 Release him !' exclaimed Bates, seizing Pollaid. ' You shall not do this.' 'Do it ' Do it !' was the stern reply, 'a thousand men, each with the strength ot a Goliath, could nob tear this carrion from his gra^p. Stand back.' i He looked Herccly into the face of the man whose life he was pressing out. A score ol hands seized him, a score the body ot Cussidy, but they might as well have attempted to tear the oak from the roeks^ aiound which it had wound its roots. Finally, Pollard, by a mighty effort, threw oil the men who were upon him, and lifting the body of John Cassidy, dashed it I o the Hoor. ' Now, >ou may do what you will with me,' he said ; ' my v>ork is done.' ' My God, Pollard, what have done"." said Bates. ' 1 have put out ot the way the man who Liied to kill you, who would have killed me. I have made ib possible for you to marry the woman you love, and — ' A great sob choked his utterance — ' I have given happiness to the only woman I ever loved, or ever shall love. Don't speak to me. M ai y, I did this for you. You could not love me, but I never ceased to love you. You have now your own, and can marry the man you love. Marry him— he is worthy of \ ou. As for me, I shall bo hanged. Well, it is all lam good for, and 1 shall die with the consciousness of having done one good thing.' | Pollaid might have escaped, for no one made a movement to arrest him. He in- ; sisted upon having an officer sent for, to i whom he surrendered himself. Our story is well nigh ended. Some weeks a'ter the death "of Cassidy, Paul Bate-?" and Mary Elsey were married quietly, i and they immediately letb the country with the entire family. Everything connected with the locality was distasteful to them. James Pollard was tried for murder, and, of course, convicted. In fact, he made nodefence, for he seemed to desire to die During his trial Paul and Mary Bates were at his side all the time. By the intercession of these two friends, the sentence was commuted to imprisonment for life, andfafterwaids the two who owed him so much had the satisfaction ot taking to him a paadon in full. They had little trouble to get it. After Cassidy's death, the man's life becamo public property, and the community looked leniently upon the man who had removed so accomplished a villain. His attempt upon Batos's life weighed heavily upon tho Governor, and in pardoning Pollard he only met the views of Brownhelm, and th© men of the regiment in which Bates served. Indeed, the soldiers declared that if Pollard would always kill as judiciously, it would be a pity to restrain him. Pollard disappeared, and those who knew him in Pennsylvania knew him no more for I ever. But Paul Bates and his wife received letters regularly from a certain James Agnew, in the far West, who was a successful cattle raiser, and a daring and bold Indian lighter. And, as James Agnew used to insist upon having a photograph taken of James Pollard Bates, the oldest child of Paul and Mary, on c&cii birthday of that promising boy, and forwarded to him, ifc is probablo that James Agnew and James Pollard was one and the same person. Additional assurance of this identity could have been found in the letters written by Mary Bates to this James Agnew. For whenover sho spoko of her happiness* she always coupled ib with the declaration 'that sho owed it all to him, and that so. long aslife lnsLed, she would remember him as her preserver. Thus yras» Elsoy Farm lost, and thus wab it won. tiiis end