Rapides gazette. (Alexandria, La.) 1869-187?, 1873-03-15
ALEXANDRIA, PARISH OF RAPIDES, La nN n * 70 ~

standing slightly apart and in the
Il think there is some one here who
knows you." then said Kate Hyslop,
slowly. "Mr: Plumstead, you know this
The gentleman from London turned
quickly round.
IAN unexpected meeting, Miss Clara
Bell" he said with cruel laugh, and
tapped her expressively on her shoulder.
One fieeting spasm of fear and agony
transfigured her loveliness to horror as
he spoke, and then the candid blue eyes
looked up straight into his, the swt ct,
small mouth quivered into its usual half
shy, half-plaintive smile, the graceful
BODY swept long, low courtesy, and the
silvery voice said smoothly, !: You are
under some mistake, sir. Ny name Is
Madame Duf0ur-Caroline Dufour-andI 1
have not the honor to know you."
Game to the last, / see J" laughed Mr..
Plumstead coarsely. "But the day of
reckoning is come, my lady, and your
fine airs go for nothing. You have been
wanted for some time, you krow, for that
little mistake you made about young
Charlie LawsOn's name to that check you
presented. By the look of things, I'm
afraid we shan't get much out of the fire
there, /" he added, in kind of aside; and
now I've found you don't mean to let
you go again, / promise you. You have
no right to complain; you have
had pretty long innings, all things con-
"walter! kill him I" shrieked Madame
Dufour, turning wildly to her young
lover. She had no need to urge him.
| Already his hands were twisted in the
neckcloth of the detective, when, quick as
thought, Mr.. Plumstead drew a trun-
cheon from his pocket, and gave the boy
blow that rendered further interference
from him impossible.
"My boy my boy! You have killed
him !" cried the miserable woman, fling
ing herself on her knees beside him.
"Walter! look up speak to me! Brave,
good, innocent boy, speak to me once
again J" she kept on repeating, while sobs
without tears-these terrible sobs Of fear
mingled with anguish-shook her whole
frame, as she crouched close to the pale
face, kissing 1t wildly.
Insolent abandoned !" said Kate, in
deep tones, striking her hands from Wal
ter's face. "Your place is not there"
"Ahl but l loved himp' pleaded
Madame Dufour, with unconscious pathos.
"Whatever may be, Iloved him ~
'She has stood between us long enough"
"They shall not take me ~ she
screamed; but Mr.. Plumstead bent over
her quickly; and, before she well knew
that he had taken her hands in his, he
had slipped on pair of handouts, and
had her at his mercy.
"Loosen his cravat, throw water in his
face, and keep him quiet when he re overs;
and don't fret, madam, 4" to the poor moth
er who was weeping violently on the
other side, said the detective, as he pre-
pared to pass ont, leaving them with the
boy lying as if dead on the floor wi h no
more apparent concern than If he had
knocked over rabbit. 1t was all i'm the
way of his profession-merely a unit in
his averages-and he knew he had not
killed him.
snow, then, my beauty" he laughed,
turning to the poor wretch alternately
covering and raving in his grasp, ''to
your house, il you please; and then we
will get our little business settled"
SO he passed out through the village
so far consenting to appearances as to
cover with shawl the golden head that
had so lately borne itself in triumph, and
which was now so bitterly abased, and to
conceal the cruel handouts that shone
among the bracelets on her wrists. She
was a prize worth taking, and he was
pleased with his days work.
4
Years passed, and Kate Hyslop, for all
her money and unrela king determination
to marry Walter, was KaFe Hyslop still,
and Walter Drummond, a sad, grave
man, prematurely old, and always bear
ing that heartbreak of his about with
him, was living in London, in an isolated
miserable fashion enough, seeming to
have little to do with life any way, and
to have parted forever with happiness and
hope. His father and mother were dead,
and he had made no new friends. The
only interest he took in anything was In
prisons and reformatories. These he Wis
tied CONS antly; constantly, too, wander
ed about the lower haunts of poverty and
vice or, suddenly changing his method,
he would roam about the park and the
fashionable squares, always searching,
always hoping, and ever pursuing what
he never overlook. His search be-
came a kind of monomania with him !;
but he never saw again the woman he
sought, though day by day he said to
himself-now the moment had surely
come, he would find her to-day; and
when he had found her, he would take
her to his heart lovingly, reverently, as
Of old, and In his love ne would cleanse ncr
of her stains. He never thought how
time would have treated her. He looked
for the golden hair, the fair fiower-face,
the sweet, shy smile Of the early days !;
and once, when he gave q grey-haired,
haggard, broken-down beggar-woman
half O. crown In the street, he did not
know why she touched his heart 90 sadly,
or why she woke a chord that vibrated in
remembrance, but that had no echo In
recognition.
At last, one bitter winters night, he
died. He had wandered restlessly all the
day, feeling 90 near and yetso far of, as II
her form was walking with him side by
side. step for step, as he paced the long
streets for hours but he Gould not see her
face, nor touch her hand, nor hear her
voice. When the night fell he crept back
to his miserable home, once more disap-
| pointed and his mission unfulfilled. HIS
heart broke at last; and when they came
to rouse him In the morning, ne was
dead.
As they laid the poor worn body
straight and fair for its last rest, they