The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1873-04-26

pictures.
81 am afraid I must give it up at last, -
he said, with heavy sigh. 81 shall never
be able to get them back now"
" Get them back %
1es-where are they them Not gone
with the other things %
For answer, she opened the door, SO that
he could see from his bed his Holy Fam
! lily . standing as it had stood when he had
fallen before it on the floor.
1t was blessed sight to him, for the
subject is not one that requires to be treat
ed by Raphael or Murillo to tell its
story to one who believes. Its painter en-
deavored to raise himself upon his bed, and
then fell back upon the arm of his own
Lady Of Sorrows and of Joys.
You have not parted with the pic
lures, then 90
"Of course not.'
He looked at her with wondering admir-
alton, and then at the dry crust. He guess
ed how she herself must have Jared if this
was all she had to give him.
"Well,'' he said, 81 will not part with
the Holy Family just yet. Something
may come of it-especially if paint in an
entirely new Madonna. But the others
may go and welcome-the Chaos and
the Saint Laurence and the Plague of
Darkness If the Madonna turns out
to be worth anything l can get them back
again; if not-well, at all events, we shall
not have starved for another three days.
We will begin with Chaos.'''
And SO Chaos found its way to the
pawnbrokers's
On the third day "Saint Laurence fol-
lowed its example.
1t was the turn Of the Plague OF Dark
ness on the fifth day, by which time
Arthur was on a fair way toward recovery,
and was getting stronger on the proceeds
of the advances of his first and only art
patron. Alas, Felicia, the born lady, had
long lost every feeling Of shame in visiting
place Of business that is popularity sup
posed to be known to ladies only by name.
little to carry there; and she would have
been ashamed of being ashamed.
Nor did she care who might see her ON
the way. Her friends and acquaintance
were things of the past, and she would not
even have taken notice if she had been seen
going on what is-absurdly enough-gen-
orally regarded as being in itself degrad-
ing errand. But on this occasion, while
approaching her pawnbroker's door with
the Plague of Darkness " under her arm,
she could not avoid taking notice of
somewhat strange and outre figure at
least to English eyes, standing with his
long nose and beard pressed close against
the window. He was dressed in a Semi
Oriental style, not often, though some
times met with in t-of- the-way London
streets, especially in that Soho region
which is so full of outlandish costumes and
of outlandish people in them. The dress
in question was long black caftan, trimm-
ed with sable, and high square cap of the
same color.
She did not, however, delay to join three
small boys in staring, but walked into her
usual cell.
1t was not house Of large business, ex-
cept perhaps on Saturdays and Mondays:
and as she made point of avoiding these
days, she was generally attended to quick
ly. But to-day she was kept long time,
while conversation was carried on in
low tone between the shopman and Gus
toner in tho cell adjoining hers; and when
she was attended to it was to be asked to
be good enough to step for a few moments
into an inner room.
She timidly obeyed, and waited there
alone for some minutes. But nothing hap
pened. She was merely brought back into
the shop, her business was concluded, and
she was dismissed with few shillings in
her pocket instead of the Plague of Dark
ness " under her arm. AS she passed out,
however, the Oriental dress was still at the
entrance, and its wearer stared at her SO
long and SO hard that she had to cast down
her eyes, and walked away in as great
hurry as she could.
Well, these were now really the last shil-
lings, unless the gigantic Madonna was to
go the road of ''Chaos:' and that was so
large that, like the portraits of the Prim-
rose family, it was doubtful if it could be
carried through the door. That evening
she and her husband had to take thought
for the morrow indeed. One cannot al
ways, whatever ones faith in an unknown
future may be, be content with the days
evil, even though it be more than suffi-
cent.
Arthur, half-lying on the bed with the
pillows arranged as much as possible in the
fashion of an arm chair, and Felicia, sit
ting on the empty trunk by his side, were
consulting with each other as to what could
be done till the former should be we'll
enough to look for work of any kind-for
even he had lost faith in his genius now
when heavy, tramping, measured footsteps
were heard ascending the stairs. Then,
after the merest apology for a rap. the
door slowly opened, and in the darkness
were seen at the threshold the forms of
two men.
"Who is there9'' called out Felicia
quickly.
"Some deep whispering was heard
Then strange voice growled, "Show
light, please. Pm constable, and want
to see Mrs. Snow
"Mrs Snow?' began Arthur: but be-
fore another word could be said on either
side, Felicia hurried into the sitting room
and closed the bedroom door, Some new
presentiment of final evil fell upon her,
though she could not tell of what, or why.
90 You wish to see me ?'' she asked.
Ies-if you'll let me. You're rather
dark in here. I'm a detective of the Me-
tropolitan police and this here's fellow
constable. P'r'aps you know what job
we're come about? Any way" he added,
by way of joke, "you seem keeping us
pretty well in the dark just now"
She struck light, and saw before her
the speaker, another constable in uniform,