Bradford reporter. [volume] (Towanda, Pa.) 1844-1884, 1867-05-02
NUMBER 4S.

low footst0Oi yard on two away
He understood her gesture, and push
ing the footstooi across the floor, he
seated himself on it close by her
chair. Again the same strange ex-
preston swept over her face as the
sleeve of his coat touched her dress
as he sat down but the smile was
back again next moment, and her
voice took an &C ent as low and ten
der as that of any love lorn Juliet
when she next spoke to him
"You naughty, boy J" she said and
she pinched his ear playfully as she
spoke 4 vow you nearly fright
ened me to death, creeping into the
room in that stealthy way, for all the
world like the villain in melodrama.
How was to know it was you that
was behind the curtain ? And then,
when | did see you, I declare you
gave my nerves quite shock. |
had heard such strange stories about
your being mad, and all that, you
know, so that my fright can hardly
be wondered at. My Pietro, what
you must have suffered ~
Every nerve and fibre in the Ital-
ian's body seemed to thrill under the
influence of those loving words and
that angelic smile bt his eyes were
still full of bewilderment, and his lips
moved inaudibly for several moments
before he spoke. "Why do you pity
me 2" he said at last. "How can you
be glad to see me, when you know
that am here to take your life :"
Cyrilla sighed Can you not un.
derstand, my Pietro," she said, that
when life has become burden, it
does not seem such a difficult thing to
quit it Z"
"Your life burden " he said in
creduously. Tn this pretty nest, and
mated with the husband of your
choice, life ought to be very precious
to you"
"The opinion OF the world Y said
CyrilIa, with mournful ring III her
voice -"Is there not such thing,
Pietro, as being welded to a man
with whom you have nothing in COM
mon You have read LockSley Hall,
and you know what | mean without
my saying more. Once | had a treas
ure within my grasp, but not knowing
its value, | threw it carelessly away.
Do you think that life to such a one
can be a thing of much value p
She turned away her face, and
buried it in her handkerchief. Fas-
TIM On his knees before her, "Cyrilla,
Cyrilla, !! say that you love me-" he
cried. One of her hands was lying
carelessly by her lap ; he seized it,
and covered it with passionate kisses.
She did not repulse him she only
said gently "You must not do
that; you know that you have vowed
to kill me"
"No, no p he cried passionately,
starting to his feet "You shall not
die !. | will intercede for you with
the mandarin. The Dog star him
self shall hear your story, and pity
you. Some other life shall be sacri-
feed in place Of yours : you shall
live. Together, we will quit this
hateful England together, in my
own sunny cline, in Italy the beauti.
full, we will"
The clock on the mantle-piece
chimed midnight
"There sounds the knell of DOOM
said Cyrilla with a mournful smile.
1T is the signal that summons
you to new life-to life of love,
and freedom, and happiness I" said
the Italian. at tells me too," he ad-
ded, chat have other work still left
to accomplish" He laid a finger
lightly Oh her shoulder. The man
who calls you wife, the child who
calls you mother, they must die :"
Cyrilla's eyes confronted those of
the madman steadily not the culver
of a nerve betrayed the feelings at
work within her.
Fastini began to move towards the
door Of the dressing-room Cyrilla
caught him by the button, and held
him. He turned on her in an instant,
a wild devil of fuzzy glaring out of
his eyes. "Do you-dare-to say
that you care the least in the world
about those two ?" he snarled out.
He had her grasped firmly by the
shoulder with one hand his other
hand was behind her, and she felt the
sharp point Of the poniard prick
her dressing-robe into her
flesh, as he asked the question.
"Care for either of them y ex-
claimed Cyrilla, with a contemptuous
laugh "Why should care for them,
? 1t is not that. 1t is this,
as regards the child: | do not think
nay, | am sure-that | could not
love you SO well as | do now, if |
knew that you were guilty OF she'd
ding the blood of that innocent"
No blood, Cyrilla," he whispered
the pillow"
No !" said Cyrilla lOftily. "The
man | love must be above a bastard
ly deed like that. To be the murder
er of a smiling babe Faugh -
You can go, Signor Fastini," she ad
ded coldly, stepping from before him
The child is asleep in yonder room.
When you have killed him, come
back and kill me, if you don't wish
to see the unutterable contempt with
which l should then look Jpn you y
She pointed to the open door of
the dressing-room as she spoke, and
drawn up to her full height, stared
steadily into the lunatic's eyes, He
quaied under that fixed, stern gaze /;
he wavered he whispered something
TO himself and then with the air of
a beaten hound, he skunk up to Cy-
rillo, and taking her hand bumbly. he