"It would better befit you to be both still and humble," replied the magistrate. "I will be neither till I know who dares accuse me." "Miserable man, forbear! you shall both know and see your accuser; and turning to the servant, "Call in the witness," he said. Prime fixed his eyes on the door through which the witness was to enter, and, for the first time, some fading of color was evident through his dark, leathery skin. He did not speak. It did not seem to have occurred to him that nature demanded some expression of horror and surprise at hearing of the murder of his child. His heart had ossified under one indurating passion, and he had forgotten the ebb and flow of nature's current. Yet now the possibility of what might ensue to himself and his possessions thrilled through his frame; and while his eye was fixed with intense eagerness on the door, he vainly tried to subdue the throbbings of his heart with repeating mentally, "There was no witness!" The door was reopened. A witness did appear-his own son! It was at this moment that Daniel Prime's hair rose and stood like quills upon his head-so said my informant, and I believed her; for, though a woman, her observation and judgment were stronger than her imagination. The boy seemed inspired with supernatural strength and intrepidity. He bore, without flinching, the scowling brow and burning glance of his father. "One would have reckoned," said my eye-witness, "that he had grown ten years older in twenty-four hours." The usual preliminary forms over, Colonel Ashley asked, "Did your sister request you to accompany her on the Canaan road yesterday." "Yes, sir." "Did she give any reason for wishing your company?" "No, sir. She always loved to have me go with her, and I always loved to go." "How far did you go?" "To Pine Hill bridge, sir." The examination was for a moment interrupted by a convulsive cough from Prime. "Did your sister say anything by the way?" proceeded the magis trate. "Yes, sir. She asked me if I would not be afraid to go back through the woods alone. I told her, not a bit, and asked her if she was afraid; she said, not when I was with her. And then I told her I would go all the way; but she said she should not be afraid after she got over the bridge, and down to the mill, for the road beyond there was not so lonesome." "Did she say anything more?" "Yes, sir. She said she never should come home again, and she cried, and I told her I did not want to live at home when she was gone; and then she said she hoped, one of these days, mother and I would come and live with her and William; she said she was not coming to live in grandfather's house, but as soon as she was married she should move off somewhere." "Was anything more said?" "No, sir; only when we came near the bridge, she squeezed my hand so tight that I told her she hurt me. When we got over the bridge, she told me I must make haste home, and she bid me good-bye, and said I must be always very kind to mother-and these were the last words she spoke." "Go on, my child. What happened then?" "I knew there was a sassafras tree that grew on the bank just above, and I wanted some sassafras, so I got over the fence; and when I got up the hill, I thought I'd just go on to Deacon Sam's Rock, as they call it, and watch Sibyl till she got past the mill, and the minute I stepped on to it I saw him—' "Saw whom?" "Father." At this point of the testimony Prime's knees shook together, and he was obliged to support himself by leaning on the colonel's desk, against which he stood. "Go on, my poor child," said the good magistrate. "He had a club," continued the boy; "Sibyl had just come to the corner-she heard him, and looked back-he struck the club across her face!" The boy paused, and became intensely pale. Colonel Ashley passed his arm around him, and supported him. "And what then?" he asked. "Then," replied the boy, with a burst of tears and sobs, "then Sibyl fell back and-died-sir." "He lies! he lies!" cried Prime vehemently. Colonel Ashley commanded silence, soothed the boy, and bade him proceed. "Then, sir, he dragged her down the bank, and through that miry place where the trees are so thick, and he put her in the river, and put a stone on her head, and another on her feet." "Did he then come away?" "Yes, sir, a few steps; but he went back again, and got her purse out of her pocket, and put it inside his leather pocket-book." "Lord have mercy on us!" murmured Colonel Ashley. After a moment's pause of horror at this proof of the man's cupidity, he asked the boy "if he knew whether his sister had any money in her purse?" "Yes, sir, she had five gold pieces that grandfather gave her. She was showing them to mother only two days ago; and he took them, and chinked them in his hand." "Did your father then leave the spot?" "Yes, sir; he got over the fence, and went across the lots very fast." แ 'Why did you not scream when first you saw him?' "It was not half a minute, sir, before he struck, and I never thought of any harm till it was all done." "Why did you not then scream?" "I don't know, sir; I suppose I could not." "If you were so frightened, why did you not run away?" "I don't know, sir. After Sibyl fell dead, I can't remember about feeling afraid, or feeling anything. I only stood there and looked. After he was gone I began to think. I felt as if I could not go home and tell mother, then I thought I would stay in the woods till I died, and nobody would ever know he did it; and the night came-oh! such a long night! I did not sleep-I think I shall never sleep again. When daylight came I felt as if I should burst if I did not tell somebody. I thought of you, sir. I remembered mother telling me you never punished anybody more than you could help, and so I came here, sir." Here ended the poor boy's story, which hardly seemed to require the corroborating proof afterward derived, from finding Sibyl's purse within her father's pocket-book, and from ascertaining that he had informed himself of her intention of leaving home on that fatal afternoon. It is hardly necessary to add that Prime was committed for trial. After his trial and condemnation to death, he confessed he had made an attempt on his child's life on the day preceding the murder, and near the same place. He had been baffled by the sudden appearance of a horseman on the road. It appears that the boy's grief at the fatal result of his accusation of his father so moved Colonel Ashley's kind heart, that he accompanied the child to Boston, and seconded his affecting appeal to the governor in behalf of his parent. It was alleged that the man's mind was so clouded and diseased by the predominance of his ruling passion, that he might be regarded as insane. This consideration, combining with compassion for his unfortunate and respectable family, induced the governor to commute the sentence of death to banishment. Fitz-Greene Halleck. BORN in Guilford, Conn., 1790. DIED there, 1867. MARCO BOZZARIS. [The Poetical Writings of Fitz-Greene Halleck. Edited by James Grant Wilson. 1868.] An hour passed on-the Turk awoke; He woke to hear his sentries shriek, "To arms! they come! the Greek! the Greek!" "Strike-till the last armed foe expires; They fought-like brave men, long and well; 1 |