Marshall County Republican. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1856-1878, 1867-04-05

brown paw of Theodore Thornhurst.
Cyrilla's eyes dilated as she gazed the
murmur of the song died off her lips; her
fingers ceased from turning the key of the
clock she stood like one changed to stone
She burst not turn her head to glance at
the dread reality which she knew was be-
hind her; she kept her gaze fixed steadily
in the glass, watching with sort of horri-
BILE eagerness for some sign or token OF
life in those white, deathlike fingers, which
looked as if they belonged to a corpse.
Suddenly, while she was looking like one
ascinated, there was slight movement OF
the curtain, the white fingers relaxed their
grasp, opened, and for an instant were
withdrawn. Next moment, they were
there again, grasping the curtain as before;
and as they reappeared, Cyrillas heart
thrilled with fresh terror; she felt-by
instinct, and not by the action of any more
positive sense-that, from amid the dim
folds of the curtain, two eyes, unseen by
her. were wa tching her every movement.
The dread inspired by this dIscovery-for
she felt sure that her instinct was not play
ing her false-was almost more than she
could bear Her senses seemed as though
they were about to desert her dimness
crel,t over her eyes, a numbness began to
steal through every limb and 1T seemed to
her as though the room, herself, and even
that terrible hand, were all fading INTO un-
substantial shadows, and that nothing could
ever trouble her more; when all at once
her fading senses were pierced by faint
sound-a sound that went straight to her
mothers heart, and in one brief moment
stung all her fading senses into vivid life.
1t was the voice of her child that she had
heard Just as she was about to sink faint
ing to the floor. He had turned over in
his sleep, and had felt for her in the dark,
and had given utterance to low plaintive
cry at not finding her beside him. To a
feeling of life the most vivid and intense,
that weak voice had recalled her. For
my child's sake" she murmured in her
heart, "let strength be given me
Her hand was steady enough now, and
she went ON with the winding up of the
little clock, winding slowly, that she might
have more time ...a--. what her next
move must he She was strangely calm
now, with that calmness which is induced
in some natures by the presence OF great
peril. As she kept on winding, her eyes
seemed to be fixed intently on the little
clock, but were at the same time watching
the hand with covert nall look that
might or might not deceive the hidden eyes
which she felt sure were just as intently
watching her.
There the clock was wound up at last
never had it taken SO long time before
and the question was, what 10 do next
her dressing room, and put the door be-
tween herself and her hidden visitOr-she
ie,t that both she and her child would be
chance
The effort must be made, and that q, once
for to stay In the room much longer,
watched by those unseen eyes, would be
enough TO drive her mad.
Sweet and low. sweet and low,
Wind OF the western sea-
How she contrived to get the words out
she could never have told afterwards, but
she found herself humming them over,
and siding across the room with an elab-
orately careless air, towards little table
placed half way between the fireplace and
the dressing room door. The table was
reached in safety, and Cyrilla ventured to
breathe again A Photographic album lay
on the table, and she took it up and began
to examine it with the deepest apparent
interest. While in the position, the hand
was behind her. She would have given
much to be able to glance over her
shoulder and see whether it was still visi-
BILE, but the effort was one that required
more courage than she had to spare just
then. Perhaps, even now, her unknown
visitor was stealing out from behind the
curtain-was creeping stealthily after her
with a view of surprising her. say by put
ting his hands over her eyes, or by Selling
her suddenly round the waist! His foot
steps would be noiseless on the thick car.
pet She could bear the horror of her sit
uation no longer; she let the book drop
from between her fingers, and made rush
for her dressing room but as she got with
in yard of the door, she stumbled, and
came down on her knees. Before she
could make even one effort to rise, she was
grasped by the right wrist from behind, a
cold hand was placed over her mouth, and
stern voice whispered in her ear
Make the least noise, and you are dead
woman p
Next instant her mouth was uncovered
and Cyrilla found herself lifted somehow
ON to her feet. She turned to look at bel
assailant, and as her eyes met his, she
shrank away from him as far as the iron
grasp on her wrist would allow, and gave
utterance to low cry of terror "Signol
Pietro Fastini "
Even so, cdrissima mia, he said. "Yor
do not seem pleased to see me- But pray
resume your seat !" and holding her by tho
wrist, he led her back to the easy chair
into which he had indicted her, with pro
| found bow.
A tall and elegant looking man, this Sig
nor Pietro Fastini; olive complexioned
with black beard and moustache, thin ant
silky, and large, dark, melancholy-lookint
i - 81
expression such as Cyrilla had never seer
in them before-an expression that made
her shiver with alright. He was dressed
ia full evening costume, except that III
was without hat and gloves; while his lon.
black hair, all blown and tangled by tn,
night wind, lent touch of incongruity t.
his appearance, which no one could hav,
failed to detect.
Certainly, you do not seem pleased {,
see me-" he repeated. loosing his grasp 0
Cyrila's wrist THAT, however, wa
hardly to be expected. Let US put it that
took you too much by surprise, and no
that / am an unwelcome guest"
He gave utterance To a low, sneerin.
laugh then he drew up chair close il
front Of Cyrilla, and sat down ON it, ant
seemed to devour her with his large blacl
eyes, "Cyrilla Thornhurst," he said, "dt
you know with what purpose am her,
this EVENING""
Poor Cyrilla's lips formed "No," but NJ
sound issued from them.
81 am here to kin you" he said, speak
ing with the slightest possible accent.
Cyrilla pressed her fingers to her eyes
and seemed to shrink back still further il
the easy chair The Italian twisted th,
ends of his moustache, and watched her il
grave silence
from before your face" he resumed, after
pause Thanks; that is better. Remem
Der, / am here to kill, not to torture. WheI