The Tragedy of Wild River Valley

by Martha Finley

  CHAPTER XV.

  The news of the arrest of O'Rourke, following upon his robbery ofHimes, more especially because one of the notes stolen from Lakesidewas found upon his person, was highly exasperating to Colonel Bangs. Hevisited the jail that same evening, and held a rather stormy interviewwith the prisoner, reminding him of his warning that it was a dangerousthing to carry that note about with him, and telling him passionatelythat he should have kept it carefully hidden in some safe place.

  "You've been a precious fool!" he concluded, "for who now will put anyfaith in the _alibi_ I swore to in your favor?"

  "If ye're the smart lawyer I take ye fer, ye kin git me out o' thisthrouble in spite o' that," returned Phelim, coolly; "an' ye'd bettherbe afther thryin' yer purtiest, or mabbe I moight be indooced to turnState's ividence agin ye in that matther o' the Lakeside burglary, tosay nothin' o' wan or two ither jobs o' the same sort."

  Bangs's face flushed hotly; he was furious at the implied threat, butfelt it his wisest course to conceal his anger and adopt a milder andmore conciliatory tone.

  "That would be very foolish, Phelim," he said, with a forced laugh;"for if you got me sent to prison, who would defend you in futurescrapes? I'll undertake your defence this time, as a matter of course,and never fear that I'll fail to clear you. I'd be willing to wager myhead that we'll come off with flying colors."

  "But I'll have to clear out o' this part o' the counthry; 'twouldn'tniver do to attimpt to ply me thrade round here no more."

  "It would be a great risk, certainly," returned Bangs. "But tell me, isthere any truth in Himes's story that his wife aided and abetted you?"

  "Av coorse not!" asserted Phelim; "what fer wad she be aftherpoverizin' hersilf? If the ould man's money was all gone, sure he'dhave none to use in buyin' victuals an' clo'es fer hissilf, let aloneher."

  "And you weren't intending to rob him of her as well as the money, eh?"queried Bangs, with a covert sneer.

  Phelim's only answer was a harsh laugh.

  Bangs did not press the question. "I must go now," he said, rising anddrawing out his watch. "Good-night; I'll be in again before long."

  The next morning, while Belinda sat in despairing wretchedness upon theraft, and Phelim, the hardened criminal, slept unconcernedly in hisprison cell, Bangs wended his way to the butcher's shop to secure forhis dinner the cut of beef most to his liking. He was early, but foundseveral customers there before him, among them Barney Nolan.

  "Out of my way, fellow!" growled Bangs, pushing rudely past Barney."There, Hicks," to the butcher, who was busily at work, saw in hand,over the dead animal, "that's the very cut I'm after."

  "Now, that's rather a pity, isn't it, colonel, seein' it's soldalready?" returned Hicks, in a slightly sarcastic tone, taking it upwith despatch, throwing it into the scales, then wrapping a piece ofbrown paper about it and bestowing it in Barney's basket.

  "Sir, I am not accustomed to such treatment!" cried Bangs, wrathfully."I spoke for that particular cut before you had it sawed off."

  "Just so," returned Hicks, with nonchalance; "but Nolan spoke for itfull five minutes sooner; and it's first come first served in thisshop."

  "An Irish laborer, with a family to support, has no business to bebuying the most expensive piece of beef in the market, when there'splenty of cheaper to be had," said Bangs, eyeing Barney with anger anddisdain.

  "Faix, sor, an' isn't it jist yersilf that wad betther be afthermoindin' yer own business, an' lavin' an honest man, that pays as goodmoney an' honest fer his mate as anny in yer purse, to moind hisn?"queried Barney, with air and tone of sturdy independence. "An' I'm nota sodger no longer, sor; nor is yersilf the colonel o' me rigiment, tohave it in yer power to thrate me loike a brute baste intirely, as yezdid in the war that's over an' done wid, thank the blissid Vargin an'all the howly saints."

  Bangs replied with a volley of oaths and curses, while Barney steppedleisurely past him to the outer door and into the street, as if heheeded them no more than the idle whistling of the wind.

  Bangs shook his fist after the retreating form, then turned and pouredout the vials of his wrath upon Hicks. He had never in all his lifebeen so shamefully treated! The idea of a man of his circumstances andstanding in society having his wishes set aside for the gratificationof those of a low-born foreigner; a fellow without means or brains!

  "I'll not stand it, sir," he concluded. "I'll take my custom elsewhere."

  "All right, Mr. Bangs; I'm able to do without it," returned Hicks, withcheerful indifference; "there's always a plenty of folks wantin' meatfor themselves and their families."

  "Of course, people must eat to live," remarked a bystander. "And hardwords are not the sort to win favors with," he added, with a meaningglance at Bangs--a glance that spoke ill-concealed contempt andaversion; for the latter--never a favorite with his neighbors andtownsmen--was growing more and more unpopular day by day; at least,with the better class.

  "I ask no favors from any man, but neither will I submit to injustice,"he retorted, stalking haughtily into the street and away.

  Meanwhile, Barney was hastening homeward, chuckling over Bangs'sdiscomfiture, which on his arrival he described with great glee to Noraand the children.

  Nora had cleaning to do at Lakeside that day, and an hour or two laterrehearsed the story in the ears of Mrs. Heath and Miriam.

  "Mr. Hicks was quite right," was the old lady's comment, and Miriamechoed it in her heart, though she said nothing.

  "And did yees know, Miss Miriam, that Phalim O'Rourke was the scoundrelthat robbed yees, afther all, jist as Barney said? wan o' thim notesbein' found on his person when they catched him."

  "Yes, I heard it; and the note was brought to me last night."

  "Indade, miss! an' sure I'm glad fer yees that ye've got it back; an'it's mesilf as hopes they'll all come back till ye--ivery wan o' thim;an' it's me that's glad intirely they've got that thafe of a villainan' murderer safe in jail. It's no thanks to him, the scoundrel, thatthe ould man--Farmer Himes--wasn't kilt intirely; an' for why shouldn'the swing for the wicked deed?"

  "The law doesn't hang men in this State," said Miriam; "besides,fortunately, Mr. Himes isn't dead, and the doctors, I believe, considerhim likely to recover."

  "An' sure, miss, wad the loike o' that be afther makin' anny differenceto the dirty rascal, Phalim O'Rourke?" asked Nora; "wad they be aftherlettin' him go?"

  "He'll be tried for his crime, and if found guilty will be sent to thepenitentiary for a term of years," answered Miriam.

  "An' Misther Bangs wull be afther clearin' av him, av coorse," remarkedNora, in extreme disgust.

  "I think it altogether likely he will try to do so," Miriam said.

  Before the day was over she had learned that her surmise was correct,and the tidings increased her already intense detestation of Bangs. Shecould see no redeeming trait in his character, and strongly suspectedhim of being in league with the band of burglars who had committed somany depredations in the valley for months past. Surely that _alibi_ hehad sworn to on Phelim's trial for the Lakeside burglary was a lie, andwhat motive could he have had for thus perjuring himself unless he werea party to the theft and a sharer in the spoils?

  She put that query to Ronald while having a little private chat withhim before they separated for the night.

  "It certainly looks very suspicious," he said in reply; "stillit is possible that some one else may have committed the robberyhere--another one of the gang, for instance--and passed off the noteupon O'Rourke afterward, and that Bangs had had no connection with thedeed or knowledge of it afterward."

  "Yes," returned Miriam, slowly and thoughtfully, "I suppose it ispossible, yet I cannot help feeling that my suspicion is just; I ammorally certain of it; and I shall find it difficult to treat Bangswith the barest civility should he ever call here again."

  "He will be here again; I haven't a doubt of it," Ronald said,laughingly. "It's plain that he comes a wooing, Mirry; but I warn youthat I
shall never give my consent to the match."

  "It will never be asked by me," she said, her eyes flashing and the hotblood surging over face and neck at the thought of the baseness of theman and the audacity of his pursuit of her. "Oh, Ronald, I would die athousand deaths rather than link my life with that of so sordid, cruel,haughty, and unprincipled a wretch!"

  "And I," said Ronald, dropping his bantering tone and speaking withemotion, "should even prefer to see my darling Sister Miriam sleepingpeacefully in her coffin; though what we should ever do without her Icannot tell."

  "I think you are not likely to find out very soon, Ron dear," she said,forcing a smile, for her heart was very heavy; "I'm strong and healthy,and hope to live till you are all ready to do without me."

  "In that case you certainly will not die young, sister mine," heresponded, with a look of strong, brotherly affection. "But you areworn out with the cares and labors of the day; so we'll say good-night;and don't, I beg of you, sit up to sew, or lie awake brooding overlosses and the perplexing problem how we are to pay off thattroublesome mortgage. It's a good omen that a part of the stolen moneyhas been recovered, and I do believe we'll be helped through the wholedifficulty. Just think what good Christians our father and mother were,and how many prayers they sent up for us, their loved children."

  "Yes; it is often the greatest comfort to me to think of that, and ofwhat the Bible says about a good man leaving an inheritance to hischildren's children," she said, smiling through tears.

  The next few weeks were a time of heavy trial to Miriam. Bangs besether at every turn, meeting her in her walks and rides, coming on herwhen she was in the field, and could not escape from him, and urginghis suit with persuasions, promises, and threats, determined to winher, in spite of the most firm and decided rejection repeated again andagain.

  And Warren Charlton, whose visits were always so welcome, stayed away.She would hardly own it to herself, but that was an added drop in hercup of bitterness, as she wondered vaguely what she could have said ordone to offend him.

  She did her best to hide her troubles from her grandmother and Ronald,assuming in their presence a cheerfulness and even gayety which she wasfar from feeling. The only friends in whom she felt ready to confide,and whose sympathy and advice would have been a help to her, were Dr.and Mrs. Jasper; but she had not the heart to ask it of them, apathetic note from Serena having acquainted her with the trial theywere passing through.

  Earthly helpers failed her; she seemed left to breast the storm alone,while the clouds grew darker day by day, as Bangs waxed more and morewroth at her steadfast refusal to bend to his will.

  Then she turned for help to the God of her fathers, crying to Him:"'Deliver me, oh, my God, out of the hand of the wicked, out of thehand of the unrighteous and cruel man.'"

  Meanwhile, Mr. Himes was recovering from his wounds much more rapidlythan had been supposed possible, and was gloating over the prospect ofbringing his intended murderer to trial. He held frequent interviewswith Charlton, and the latter was kept very busy in hunting up evidencein that and several important cases likely to be called up at the nextterm of court.

  It was this unusual pressure of important business which kept him awayfrom Lakeside, in spite of a strong desire to see his friendsthere--Miriam not less than other members of the family.

  Mr. Himes's condition had so greatly improved that he was no longerconfined to his room, but usually spent the greater part of the dayamong the loungers on the porch before the barroom door, andoccasionally walked a short distance up or down the street. He was anearly riser, and often came down-stairs long before the callto breakfast, eager to exchange the closeness and heat of hiscircumscribed bedroom for the fresh outside air of street or porch.

  "Strong," he asked, one evening as they sat smoking there together,"what's become o' that raft o' mine? d'ye know?"

  "I b'lieve it's lyin' moored just where ye left it," was the reply; "Iheard somebody say so a day or two since."

  "Well, I'm goin' to walk out there and see for myself."

  "I wouldn't try a walk o' that length yet awhile, if I was you, Himes,"returned Strong, with a look of surprise; "ye're weak yet and theweather's hot; the sun was scorching hot to-day."

  "Then I'll be up and off before sunrise; back again before yourbreakfast-bell rings. I'll try it to-morrow mornin'."

  "I wouldn't if I was you," repeated Strong; "you haven't got thestrength for it; besides," drawing closer to the old man and speakingin an undertone, "there's been two suspicious-looking fellows hanginground the town for the last day or two, and who knows but they maybelong to the gang that robbed and tried to murder you? They may bewatching an opportunity to finish up the job."

  "Nonsense! I won't have a cent about me, and, of course, it was themoney they was after then. Besides, the rascal that did the job is fastlocked up in jail now."

  "Yes; but they may be wantin' to put you out o' the way, so's you can'tgive evidence against him on the trial. I wouldn't trust 'em."

  "I'm not afeard," sneered the old man; "I never gave nobody no reasonto call me a coward, and I don't mean to, neither."

  "Common-sense prudence is not cowardice," returned the landlord; "inyour weak state you'd stand no chance against one strong man, let alonetwo."

  "It's all guesswork that those fellers belong to the gang and are afterme, and I don't believe a word of it," said Himes, testily.

  Strong was beginning a fresh expostulation when his wife interposed,"Oh, let him alone, John, do! If he's a mind to throw away his life,why need you worry yourself to prevent him?"

  "Well, now, that's not it," said Himes; "I've no mind to throw away mylife; not till I've seen Phelim O'Rourke brought to justice, anyhow; soI'll maybe put off goin' out o' town for a while; I'm gittin' strongerevery day." With that he knocked the ashes from his pipe, put it in hispocket, and with a gruff, "Good-night to ye, folks," started off forhis bedroom.

  The old man had a good deal of obstinacy and tenacity of purpose in hiscomposition, and waking early the next morning, he resolved to carryout his plan at once; for why should he care what Strong and his wifethought about it? he had as much sense as either of them, or bothtogether, for that matter.

  He hurried on his clothes and stole quietly from the house, for it washardly broad daylight, and no one, not even a servant, yet astir.

  An hour later a farmer driving into the town with a load of produce forthe market found him lying dead by the roadside, foully murdered; theassassins had done their work thoroughly this time, and life wasutterly extinct.

  The news flew like lightning, not through Fairfield only, but to theneighboring towns and all up and down the valley, being telegraphedfrom point to point.

  It caused great excitement, and increased the feeling of hotindignation against the leader of the gang, by whose orders, as almostevery one believed, this second and successful attempt had been madeupon the old man's life; and also the unpopularity of Bangs, who was todefend him on the approaching trial.

  Besides that, it set men to discussing the justice and righteousness ofthe law of the State, which ran counter to that law of God, "Whososheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed."

  The large majority felt and said that the death penalty was the onlyadequate punishment that could be inflicted upon O'Rourke and hisconfederates, who had finally accomplished the deed of blood attemptedby him, and them under his leadership.

  Miriam heard the news with a thrill of horror. "Had Bangs had anythingto do with the instigation of the atrocious crime?" she asked herself;"might he not be wicked enough to connive at such a deed, that thus theprincipal witness against his client should be prevented fromtestifying at the trial?"

  She shuddered at the thought, but could not banish it, and when, a fewdays later, he called to once more press his suit, she shrank from himin undisguised aversion.

  It roused him to fury, which he vainly endeavored to hide under anappearance of lover-like devotion. He had come to her in no amiablemood, f
or ever since the news of Himes's death had reached Prairievillehis fellow-townsmen had treated him to nothing but looks of coldness,scorn, and contempt. No one meeting him on the street or in the hauntsof business had a word of cordial greeting for him; each passed him bywith scarcely a nod of recognition, and their glances spoke onlydisapproval and suspicion. It maddened him; all the more because hisconscience was not clear; and he had been on the verge of a violentquarrel several times during the day.

  It was about the middle of the afternoon when he reached Lakeside, andfound Miriam alone in the shaded porch, resting and reading after manyhours of close attention to affairs indoors and out.

  Ignoring the coldness of her greeting, he took a seat close at herside, and pouring out a perfect torrent of protestations of admirationand love, repeated the offer of his hand and heart.

  Lifting her head proudly, and looking him full in the eye, "ColonelBangs," she said, "how often must I repeat my refusal before you willreceive it as final?"

  "Forever!" he cried, his eyes flashing with anger. "I tell you, girl, Iwill never give you up; marry me you shall! I have you in my power, andyou cannot escape me. I should much prefer to have you a willing bride,but--I'll even take you against your will rather than not have you atall."

  Miriam rose from her chair and stepped back a pace or two; thenconfronting him with pale but dauntless face, "What right have you toaddress such language to me, sir?" she asked, in freezing, haughtytones, holding her head proudly erect and gazing unflinchingly into hiseyes. "I am a free woman, living in a free land, and no one can compelme to marry against my inclination."

  "Even a free woman may find the compelling force of circumstances toostrong for her," he retorted; "and I think it will be so in your case,for only by consenting to become my wife can you save yourself andthose nearest and dearest to you from being turned out homeless intothe world."

  She had grown very pale while he spoke, but she answered in firm,though gentle tones, and with the same dauntless air with which she hadreplied to him at first, "To do as you wish would be a sin, because tolove, honor, or respect you would be impossible to me. I utterly refusecompliance, and putting my trust in God, my father's God, I defy you todo your worst!"

  "And I'll do it. I'll take steps for the foreclosing of that mortgagebefore I'm a day older," he said, in low tones of concentrated fury, ashe rose and bowed himself out.

  Turning on the threshold, "How happy you will feel when you have toleave this beautiful place, the comfortable home and the farm that hasbeen your means of support! How you will enjoy the distress of youraged grandmother and the little orphan brother and sister, knowing youcould have spared them all their pain and suffering!"

  An expression of anguish swept over her features, but was gone in amoment, while in a firm voice she answered, "I trust in Him of whom theBible tells me, 'He shall judge the poor of the people, He shall savethe children of the needy, and shall break in pieces the oppressor....He shall deliver the needy when he crieth; the poor, also, and him thathath no helper.'"

  He had heard enough, and hurried away with the words ringing in hisears, while Miriam sought the privacy of her own room, to pour out herdistresses and her cry for deliverance from the unrighteous and cruelman to Him who had declared Himself the "Father of the fatherless and ajudge of the widows" and "the hearer and answerer of prayer."

  Bangs had walked out from the town, and was now hurrying back to it,almost beside himself with rage, mortification, and disappointment. Hehad made sure that Miriam would yield to his demand rather than facethe alternative he set before her; and the estimate of his characterwhich she had given him was far from flattering to his self-love andconceit.

  There had been nothing of unselfish love in his passion for her, andnow it was turned to bitterest hate, so that he could have found afiendish delight in dealing her a death-blow; in fact, he was so fullof rage and hatred toward the whole human race, that he would have feltan inclination to attack almost any one who should cross his path.

  He met no one, however, till he had reached the principal businessstreet of the town; then, as he hurried along, catching the sound offootsteps in his rear, he turned about to find Barney Nolan comingtoward him at a pace nearly as rapid as his own.

  "What are you following me for, scoundrel?" he demanded, accompanyingthe query with a volley of oaths and curses.

  "It's mesilf as has as good a right to walk the strates o' the town asyou, sor," retorted Barney. "Go 'long wid yees, an' niver be aftherthryin' to kape Barney Nolan in order."

  "None of your impudence, sirrah!" growled Bangs, walking on, Barneystill keeping in his wake.

  In another minute he faced about upon the Irishman again, cryingfuriously, "I'll not be followed by you or anybody else, and I tell youif you don't stop it instantly it'll be the worse for you!"

  "I'm not followin' ye, but jist goin' about me own business, an' thatsame I'll continue to do," returned Barney, coolly.

  "Do it at your peril!" cried Bangs, grinding his teeth with rage.

  He walked on again a few paces, but still hearing the echoing footstepsin his rear, pulled out a pistol, and turning toward Barney for thethird time, fired, instantly killing the innocent object of hisunreasonable anger.

  Before the report had fairly died away people came rushing to the spotfrom all directions, so that in less than five minutes a mob ofinfuriated men had collected, and Bangs perceived at once that he wouldbe lynched unless he could save himself by flight.

  He darted down a side street and flew onward, the mob in hot pursuit.Panting, breathless, he gained a large distillery, and rushing in, hidbehind the casks of beer.

  But the mob were close at his heels; they instantly swarmed over thewhole building, hunting for him with yells and shouts of rage.

  "Where is he--the bloody assassin?" "Catch him!" "Hang him!" "Lynchhim!" "Don't wait for the law; that'll only send the wretch to Stateprison, though he's killed a better man than himself!"

  Bangs crouched in his hiding-place, shaking with terror. Presently thebarrels in front of him were violently shoved aside, a dozen handsseized him with no gentle grasp, and he was dragged out with exultantshouts of fury.

  "Here he is! we've got the double-dyed villain, the bloody-handedmurderer, and we'll deal out even-handed justice to him!"

  "That we will!" echoed a chorus of voices.

  "A rope! a rope!" was the next cry; "a rope round the murderer's neck,and off with him to the big oak-tree in front of Barton's."

  Hicks, the butcher, came pushing his way through the crowd with a stoutrope in his hands.

  "Here, boys, how'll this answer? It's what I brought that bull intotown with yesterday, and I reckon it's strong enough to hold this wildbeast. Hold him, and I'll put it round his neck!"

  Bangs's face was ashen, and he was trembling like an aspen leaf.

  "Friends, neighbors," he began, hoarsely, "will you murder me? Will yousend me into eternity without a moment's time to prepare?"

  "How many minutes did you give Barney Nolan?" asked a stern voice."'With what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again.'"

  "Yes, yes! Off with him! Off with him! That's right," as Hicks threwthe rope over the head of the trembling culprit, and drew it closeabout his neck.

  A shriek of mortal anguish went up from the pale lips quivering withfright: "The law! Let the law deal with me, and don't stain your handswith my blood!"

  "No, no! the law's too easy for a wretch like you!" they yelled in hisears, as they dragged him away out of the building, over the sidewalkto the middle of the street, and on, on, his head striking against thecobble-stones at every step.

  He was dead before they reached the tree where they meant to hang him,but they raised the lifeless body to one of its branches, and left itdangling there, all the same.