New Orleans Republican., 1875-11-21

| covered some Goals 10 cupboard, and some
fragments Of wood. 1t was not cold, but
still the place was very damp, and thought
Q fire would be cheering; SO, with some diff
ticulty, lit one. The chimney smoked
vexatiously at first; but by and by the
flames blazed and cracked pleasantly, and
l was gratifed with my performance. /
drew the easiest chair l could find to the
the front of crate; there was no fender, so /
rested my slppered feet upon the hobs.
| lit cigar.
/ Presently l could hear some one enter be-
low. THE maste probably Angry talking
followed. Mark and the master were quar-
rellng-reviling. swearing at, thre atening
| each other. Then came the sound of a
footstep upon the stars. A man entered
my room.
"Wha. do you do here!" he demanded,
angrily. II won't have it. You must get
out of this. You've no business here"
He was very pale, with long, light hair-a
man of about thirty. perhaps, of handsome
features. although his face was worn by i'll
health, or, it might be, dissoluteness of life
| He was shabbily dressed his clothes were
soiled and torn; his shirt collar was ragged.
and the frayed ends of a rusty black neck
| erchief, tied in slOvenly bow, struggled
out untidily; his waistcoat was held to.
| gether but by few remaining buttons; This
boots were split and miry. And yet there
was certain air of refinement about the
| man. Violent as he was, negligent and al
most squaid of appearance, he seemed to
me one fallen from a more prosperous condi.
| tiOn-one of gentle origin, upon whom some
| strange i'll fortune had borne very hardly.
He was trembling with passion. His long,
| thin hands were waved IN the air as he
| spoke; his eyes were bloodshot HE lips
cOlorless.
planning the circumstances that brought me
| to the Red House. l stated that l had en-
gagged rooms of Mark Voss for a week at
the rent be had determined.
MARK Voss, indeed !" he screamed, with
| an oath. 'I'll Mark Voss him. The insolent
beggar. The lying hound. Is it his house !
| Is he master here What right has he TO
do this How dare he take upon bimself
to act is this way. pretty thing, indeed.
| But it shan't be. | won't have it +"
l interrupted him. / begged him to be
| calm. | assured him that II there had been
any mistake-that if my stay in the house
occasioued him any Inconvenience, would
assuredly take my. departure as soon as
possible-early on the following morning if
could so manage it.
He seemed pacitied. I'm not complain
ing of you,' he said "It's not your fanlt, |
know. It's all that internal Mark. What
rent did he ask you p
Five shDlings."
1.-The villain! The lying, extortionate
eeouhuieh riNe shiiiiugs " pe spent IN
drink. that's what it means. But it shan't
be. You shan't pay him farthing, mind
that l say IL. I'm master here. Stay
here if yen like in the old house-it's
wretched den of place when all's said
but stay as my guest. mine, you under
stand. I'm nice person to talk of enter
tanning gnest, ! know; and this is pretty
place, this Red House, to entertain guest
in y He laughed bitterly. But, black
guard as look, and am, for that matter, /
was gentleman once; at least" he added
in an altered tone, folks SO counted me.
For my part, think was bad right through
from the beginning. though not, perhaps,
SO bad as am now
He had grown calmer, now. He spoke,
looking at the fire, with contemplative,
reminiscent air. He moved toward chair.
Before, as believe, he was quite conscious
of what he was doing, he had taken up my
cigar case and drawn from it cigar. Sud.
denly, with slight flush upon his face, he
returned it to the case and thrust that far
from him.
"Prsy light cigar,"I said. and form
ally protferd him the case.
NO" he said, as he rose. ut wouldn't
be right. I'm not fit to be sitting here with
you. If you knew all, you'd say SO too. l
know what I've come to, and my proper
place: the cellar or the kennel, with Mark
Voss ter company. I'll GO now. You're
WClSomC " SUM euclltT lulb UthSIly u6U
affords. pray understand that, without pay
ing sou for it, whatever Mark Voss may
say Good night! ~
He bowed and quilted the room, closing
the door after him.
What, you here, you vagabond =! heard
him saying outside, almost Immediately.
What do you mean by dogginy me and
trying to listen at keyholesl"
81 thought you might get to blabbing,"
Mark NOss answered,
There was the sound of a scutfle carried
on great part of the way down the stair
case. In the passage below the conflict con-
tinued.
went out on the landing. 'NNhat is the
natter. What are you doing9'
There was silence for few minutes.
'lt's nothing, nsthing," Mark Voss said
some tonight. He gets bit flghty at
times. It's one of his bad nights tonight.
Lock your door. Do you hear! Whatever
you do, be sure you lock your door"
heard 'the master" abusing his COM
panion in low voice. There was much
discussion between them.
Presently they parted. Mark withdrew
to the kitchen. The master entered the op.
posite room on the the right hand side of
the staircase.
could hear them both noisily locking,
boiling and barring their doors. Each
seemed to regard the other as dangerous
wild beast to be kept apart from. There
was, as / judged, bitter hatred between
them-distrust and suspicion, and yet they
lived together, the only tenants of the Red
House, with myself for while their lodger
or their guest. Whichi But it did not
much matter which.
l was very careful to lock nv door,
However, the night passed away quietly
enough.
CHAPTER ".
l rose early, and was absent the greater |
part OF the next day, engaged in surveying |
for our new line.
. 1t was nearly night when returned to |
the Red House. Mark Voss, smoking a |
short pipe, was sitting in the doorstep. The |
door behind him was open. A lighted Ian |
tern was placed beside him.
"lts you, is it 7" he said, as he moved
little to let me pass. "It grows uncommon |
dark, don't it, l thought it might be the |
master coming along; and yet it didn't |
sound like his footstep neither"
He is nos in, thena'
mot vet. He's pretty sure to be late to. |
night. He's got work to do-these assizes
have brought work into the town, after a |
way. It's joke to think of his working, |
though, isn't 1T / used to work once. Now
it's his turn; and serve him jolly we'll right. |
But tc be called the master.' and to be |
obliged to work for the two of us-for such |
fellow % me, as well as for himself-it
sounds queer, doesn't III But he must earn |
money somehow, you see, or we shouldn't |
get along anyhows. He had a power of |
money once, to be suie but it's all gone |
now. Still, he's q scholard, is the master. |
1t would be easy enough Tor him to earn |
money if he chose. But he don't choose |
that's where it is. He won't work more