Worcester daily spy., 1859-03-22

the woman, but found she was a considerable
distance away, and was hurrying on toward
the river.
"Suange" muttered the young man. 81
must know what is in this paper" And he
hurried on toward the cottage his mind filled
with strange and conflicting emotions.
The widow had retired, when he entered.
and, seeking his room, he at once struck a
light, and sitting down, read as follows:
"Cla,tde Morrel-You have seen your ideal
She is worthy of you-you of her. Woo her
and you will win. But beware of Winslow.
The SILENT BEGGAR."
CHAPTER H.-In achich Claude has Dream,
and receireS Note.
Claude Morrel sat for long time, bending
over the mysterious note, lost in silent and
confused thought. There was something
strange marvelously startling in all this. His
rescue OF the beautiful girl, his meeting with
the strange beggar, the note-what did it all
mean? Why had his life been always even
and unpretending, and now-in one hour-be
SO marked, as with the finger of Fate, with
portentous omens for the future? Who was
this woman-the beggar? How did she know
his name :! Why was she silent?
The little clock on the mantle below struck
midnight. Claude started
$50 late !" he muttered. "Well, it is GER
tain cannot unravel these mysteries tonight,
so may as well go to bed. How those two
faces-Valinda's and the Silent Beggar's-
haunt me; strange mingling of purity beau
ty and anguished suffering. What an eye she
had-the beggar! Can have seen her be-
fore? Something whispers me / have; but
where 2"
Claude might have repeated the question a
thousand times, without even receiving an
OplnfN ,-or,a IL -
to rest. He had scarcely lain down, when, by
one of those peculiar alterations in which the
excited mind becomes totally lost to self, he
slept and dreamed.
He was on shipboard-a little child-in COM
pany with his mother; o, how beautiful was
that mother ! but child as he was, he could
yet discover that some hidden sorrow was
lurking in her breast, eating like cancer at
her heart There was another with them
a tall, dark-looking youth, with dark hair and
piercing midnight eyes-whom he called ia
ther. There was a storm at sea-one of those
terrible north-westers, which made the ship
creak and groan, until all thought she would
go to the bottom. In the midst of the storm
he heard a wild, piercing shrek, which froze
his heart, for he recognized his mothers
voice!
II
There was slight tap at the door. The
widow rose and opened it.
Please num-" said young rustic, who
appeared to be farmers boy, 81 found this
ERE down yander by the river, and thought
the young gentleman what'boards ere might
ha' lost it, as seed him a usin' of it t'other
day"
as this yours, Mr. Morrell 2" asked the
widow, turning and presenting Claude with
his po. tfolio. The painter blushed.
"Ah, yes, l must have dropped it there last
night. Here's half-a-dollar, my lad, he stam-
mered.
The youth took the money gratefully and
departed. Claude turned over the leaves and
sketches rapidly to see if any had been alb
stracted. He suddenly turned pale and became
agitated. The sketch on which he had been
engaged when the accident happened was
gone, and on the fly-leaf was written in pencil
and in delicate chirography, these words:
"CLAUDEMoRREL, Esq.-You will find this in the
morning. 1t has enabled me to find out your full
name and proiession, and l am glad of it. The
sketch you were painting is unfinished but must
have it; come to the villa, tomorrow, for your
price, and will give you u chance to perfect the
work. shall expect you.
YALINDA FAIRcHILD."
Beneath these lines, in pencil but in diff
terent hand, were written the singular words
60 TILE Silent Beggar"
"What agitates you, Mr. Morrell 2" asked
Mrs. Carroll, with deep concern.
at is nothing" said Claude, recovering
himself as he suddenly tore out the leaf and
put it in his pocket. 81 was out last night
the dew has given me cold, which makes me
nervous.
He retired hastily to his room leaving the
widow in anything but a satisfied mood as to
his actions, for he had sighted his breakfast
in toto.