Dodgeville chronicle. [volume] (Dodgeville, Wis.) 1862-current, 1867-04-04

window opposite the fireplace Only a
hand-but whose band? 1t was very small
and very white, but Enthusiastically the hand
of man, and just as surely not the big
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 corpse.
Suddenly, while she was looking like one
fascinated, 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| withdrawn.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, Cyrlllas heaft
thrilled with fresh terror; she felt-Dy
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 ws tching her every movement
The dread inspired by this dlscovery-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
| crept over her eyes; numbness began to
steal through every limb; and it seemed to
her as though the room, herself, and even
that terrible hand, were all fading INTO I'M
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 lust 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 mel!
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 to think what her next
move must be. She was strangely calm
now, with that calmness which Is induced
in some natures by the presence OF a great
peril. AS she kept on winding, her eyes
seemed to be fixed intently on the little
clock, but We're at the same time watching
the hand with a covert half look that
might or might not deceive the hidden eyes
which she felt sure were just as lntently
watching her.
There the clock was wound up at last
never had it taken so long time before
and the question was, what to do next a.?
If she could only get away-get away into
hor drapoinor on6 tho door no.
tween herself and her hidden visitor-she
felt that both she and her child would be
safe 1t was their only chance of escape.
The effort must be made, and that al once;
for to stay in the room much longer,
watched by those unseen eyes, would be
enough to drive her mad. 30
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 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 a 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
a stern voice whispered in her ear :
"Make the least noise, and you are dead
woman |"
Next instant her mouth was uncovered,
and Cyrilla found herself lifted somehow
on to her feet. She turned to look at her
assailant, and as her eyes met his, she
shrank away from him as far as the iron
grasp on her wrist would GLOW, and gave
| utterance to a low cry of terror "Signor
Pietro Fastinir'
Given 80, carasssma mia" he said "You
| do not seem pleased to see me. But pray
resume your seat !" and holding her by the
| wrist, he led her back to the easy chair,
into which he had indicted her, with pro-
| found bow. e I'D
A tall and elegant looking man, this Sig
| nor Pietro Fastini olive complexioned,
with black beard and moustache, thin and
silky, and large, dark melancholy looking
eyes. But in those eyes there was now an
| expression such as Cyrilla had never seen
in them before-an expression that made
| her SILVER with alright. He was dressed
in full evening costume, except that he
| was without hat and gloves; while his long
black hair, all blown and tangled by the
night wind, lent touch of incongruity to
his appearance, which no one could have
| failed to detect.
Certainly, you do not seem pleased to
see me-" he repeated, loosing his grasp of
Cyrilla's wrist THAT however, was
hardly to he expected. Let us put it that l
took you too much by surprise, and not
that | am an unwelcome guest"
He gave utterance to a low, sneering
laugh; then he drew up chair close in
front of Cyrilla, and sat down on it, and
seemed to devour her with his large black
eyes. "Cyrilla Thornhurst," he said, edo
you know with what purpose I am here
this EVENING""
Poor Cyrilla's lips formed "No," but no
| sound issued from them &
81 am here to kill you," he said, speak
ing with the slightest possible accent. H
Cyrilla pressed her fingers to her ewes,
and seemed to shrink back still further in
tne oaev chair The Italian t,vio+ad4 tho
ends of his moustache, and watched her in
grave silence. lEi
"Oblige me by removing your hands
| from, hoHnro ,ro11, Co 40 he ,rno,,r,,o a. q