The Gilded Age - Mark Twain and Charles Dudley Warner (romantic love story reading .TXT) 📗

that she made a request to the servants that she might not be disturbed.

The Senator was astounded. Philip thought at once of Col. Selby. Could Laura have run away with him? The Senator thought not. In fact it could not be. Gen. Leffenwell, the member from New Orleans, had casually told him at the house last night that Selby and his family went to New York yesterday morning and were to sail for Europe to-day.

Philip had another idea which, he did not mention. He seized his hat, and saying that he would go and see what he could learn, ran to the lodgings of Harry; whom he had not seen since yesterday afternoon, when he left him to go to the House.

Harry was not in. He had gone out with a hand-bag before six o'clock yesterday, saying that he had to go to New York, but should return next day. In Harry's-room on the table Philip found this note:

"Dear Mr. Brierly:Can you meet me at the six o'clock train,
and be my escort to New York? I have to go about this
University bill, the vote of an absent member we must have
here, Senator Dilworthy cannot go.
Yours, L. H."

"Confound it," said Phillip, "the noodle has fallen into her trap. And she promised she would let him alone."

He only stopped to send a note to Senator Dilworthy, telling him what he had found, and that he should go at once to New York, and then hastened to the railway station. He had to wait an hour for a train, and when it did start it seemed to go at a snail's pace.

Philip was devoured with anxiety. Where could they, have gone? What was Laura's object in taking Harry? Had the flight anything to do with Selby? Would Harry be such a fool as to be dragged into some public scandal?

It seemed as if the train would never reach Baltimore. Then there was a long delay at Havre de Grace. A hot box had to be cooled at Wilmington. Would it never get on? Only in passing around the city of Philadelphia did the train not seem to go slow. Philip stood upon the platform and watched for the Boltons' house, fancied he could distinguish its roof among the trees, and wondered how Ruth would feel if she knew he was so near her.

Then came Jersey, everlasting Jersey, stupid irritating Jersey, where the passengers are always asking which line they are on, and where they are to come out, and whether they have yet reached Elizabeth. Launched into Jersey, one has a vague notion that he is on many lines and no one in particular, and that he is liable at any moment to come to Elizabeth. He has no notion what Elizabeth is, and always resolves that the next time he goes that way, he will look out of the window and see what it is like; but he never does. Or if he does, he probably finds that it is Princeton or something of that sort. He gets annoyed, and never can see the use of having different names for stations in Jersey. By and by. there is Newark, three or four Newarks apparently; then marshes; then long rock cuttings devoted to the advertisements of 'patent medicines and ready-made, clothing, and New York tonics for Jersey agues, and Jersey City is reached.

On the ferry-boat Philip bought an evening paper from a boy crying "'Ere's the Evening Gram, all about the murder," and with breathless hasteran his eyes over the following:

SHOCKING MURDER!!!

TRAGEDY IN HIGH LIFE!! A BEAUTIFUL WOMAN SHOOTS A DISTINGUISHED
CONFEDERATE SOLDIER AT THE SOUTHERN HOTEL!!! JEALOUSY THE CAUSE!!!

This morning occurred another of those shocking murders which have
become the almost daily food of the newspapers, the direct result of
the socialistic doctrines and woman's rights agitations, which have
made every woman the avenger of her own wrongs, and all society the
hunting ground for her victims.

About nine o'clock a lady deliberately shot a man dead in the public
parlor of the Southern Hotel, coolly remarking, as she threw down
her revolver and permitted herself to be taken into custody, "He
brought it on himself." Our reporters were immediately dispatched
to the scene of the tragedy, and gathered the following particulars.

Yesterday afternoon arrived at the hotel from Washington, Col.
George Selby and family, who had taken passage and were to sail at
noon to-day in the steamer Scotia for England. The Colonel was a
handsome man about forty, a gentleman Of wealth and high social
position, a resident of New Orleans. He served with distinction in
the confederate army, and received a wound in the leg from which he
has never entirely recovered, being obliged to use a cane in
locomotion.

This morning at about nine o'clock, a lady, accompanied by a
gentleman, called at the office Of the hotel and asked for Col.
Selby. The Colonel was at breakfast. Would the clerk tell him that
a lady and gentleman wished to see him for a moment in the parlor?
The clerk says that the gentleman asked her, "What do you want to
see him for?" and that she replied, "He is going to Europe, and I
ought to just say good by."

Col. Selby was informed; and the lady and gentleman were shown to
the parlor, in which were at the time three or four other persons.
Five minutes after two shots were fired in quick succession, and
there was a rush to the parlor from which the reports came.

Col. Selby was found lying on the floor, bleeding, but not dead.
Two gentlemen, who had just come in, had seized the lady, who made
no resistance, and she was at once given in charge of a police
officer who arrived. The persons who were in the parlor agree
substantially as to what occurred. They had happened to be looking
towards the door when the manCol. Selbyentered with his cane,
and they looked at him, because he stopped as if surprised and
frightened, and made a backward movement. At the same moment the
lady in the bonnet advanced towards him and said something like,
"George, will you go with me?" He replied, throwing up his hand and
retreating, "My God I can't, don't fire," and the next instants two
shots were heard and he fell. The lady appeared to be beside
herself with rage or excitement, and trembled very much when the
gentlemen took hold of her; it was to them she said, "He brought it
on himself."

Col. Selby was carried at once to his room and Dr. Puffer, the
eminent surgeon was sent for. It was found that he was shot through
the breast and through the abdomen. Other aid was summoned, but the
wounds were mortal, and Col Selby expired in an hour, in pain, but
his mind was clear to the last and he made a full deposition. The
substance of it was that his murderess is a Miss Laura Hawkins, whom
he had known at Washington as a lobbyist and had some business with
her. She had followed him with her attentions and solicitations,
and had endeavored to make him desert his wife and go to Europe with
her. When he resisted and avoided her she had threatened him. Only
the day before he left Washington she had declared that he should
never go out of the city alive without her.

It seems to have been a deliberate and premeditated murder, the
woman following him to Washington on purpose to commit it.

We learn that the murderess, who is a woman of dazzling and
transcendent beauty and about twenty six or seven, is a niece of
Senator Dilworthy at whose house she has been spending the winter.
She belongs to a high Southern family, and has the reputation of
being an heiress. Like some other great beauties and belles in
Washington however there have been whispers that she had something
to do with the lobby. If we mistake not we have heard her name
mentioned in connection with the sale of the Tennessee Lands to the
Knobs University, the bill for which passed the House last night.

Her companion is Mr. Harry Brierly, a New York dandy, who has been
in Washington. His connection with her and with this tragedy is not
known, but he was also taken into custody, and will be detained at
least as a witness.

P. S. One of the persons present in the parlor says that after
Laura Hawkins had fired twice, she turned the pistol towards