Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1878-08-29
her so, allowing her to think me dead all
these years?" he muttered.
CHAPTER Nv.
"HAvE YOU QUITE FORGOTTEN ME?"

CHAPTER Nv.
"HAvE YOU QUITE FORGOTTEN ME-"
The morrow came. It was quiet, breeze.
less Summer day. All the world of Potts.
town hocked to the sale-the few to buy, the
many to see how the house was furnished,
and Judge whether the widow was a good
manager.
"They say she's got chists full Of the
best linen sheets and piller cases" remark
a thrifty old lady, as she laboriously ascen-
ded the stairs.
The little wife of the inn-keeper;s son was
busy among the crockery. She had selected
her purchases, and stood guarding them with
the vigilance of small but particularly
fierce dragon, determined to have them, as
she said, if everybody in Pottstown bid against
her.
In one of the smallest rooms upstairs stood
Lucy and Widow Willetts, watching the gath
ering crowd. And motely assemblage it
was, of numbering old carriages, one-horse
chaises, light spring wagons, gayly painted,
horses ofevery description, saddles of the most
antique pattern, while the men, women and
children who had come, intending to make a
day of it, crowded into the yard and ran
through the pleasant rooms and up and down
stairs, with much chattering and shrill laugh.
ter.
Old Deacon Pitt, who was good friend to
the widow, poked among the kitchen utensils
with bis cane.
"Several of US neighbors were going to buy
up things" he said, eying the nest Of pans
wistfully, but they say some strangers made
bid for the hull lot, cash down. I'm nigh.
ty sorry for the widder-mighty sorry"
"Old Pinchbeck deserves a coat of tar-and.
feathers, and know somebody who'd like to
give it to him" spoke up twelve'year.old
Tom, the deacon's son.
"Silence, sir!' said the deacon gravely !;
then added, in an aside to another old dea-
con, 1T would be the best fit he ever had in
his life"
Meantime the clamor outside Increased.
1t was nearing high noon. Those who had
brought lunches were comfortably seated, re-
calling themselves with doughnuts and sand
wiches The children cried with weariness,
and some of them we're put to sleep in the
shade.
Lucy and her mother watched the proceed
ings from their little perch, themselves un-
seen.
"Why don't they begin ?" said Lucy, in
nervous tremor. "The auctioneer is here
Oh ! how dread it.
At that moment, amid the shouts of q crowd
of small boys, Peter Pinchbeck mounted bis
stand-the smoothly cut trunk Of tree which
Lucy had made beautiful with vines; but
now the pretty green tendrils lay prone and
trampled in the dust.
Presently business commenced. Two anx.
ous old farmers bid against each other until
they were hoarse, when suddenly deep, low
masterful voice exclaimed:
Five thousand dollars for the place, just
as it stands-every stick of timber, every rod
of land, every article of furniture!'
"Widow and daughter included ?" queried
Peter Pinchbeck, making an attempt to be
facetous. ...-.-. .....
But on a sbudden he recoiled, and, in step
ping back-for be saw that ominous look in
the strangers face as the latter came vicious
ly forward-down he went amidst the broken
vines and tumbled grass, and a roar of laugh
ter went up from the throat Of the assembled
urchins.
"It will be safer for you if you keep your
tongue within your teeth" was the low-utter-
ed warning, "or I won't be responsible for
what might happen"
And the attorney gained his perch, looking
white, scared and crestfallen.
Meantime, the people were talking in
groups Of course nobody could compete
with a man who bid in that fashion. The
| nnf
thousand and who could this stranger be
who felt such an interest in this out-ef the-way
place, and was so rich that he could afford to
throw away his money?
The innkeepers new daughter stood tremb-
lingly guarding what she had made sure was
hers. Deacon Pitt proposed that contribu-
tion he taken for the purpose of setting the
widow up in housekeeping.
Lucy turned to her mother as the house
was knocked down to the highest bidder, and
threw herself in her arms, as she cried:
ut is all over, and we are beggarsP
"Not quite, Lucy. You forget we can
work. God will overrule this great misfor-
tune for our good"
"How Tan you be so quiet over it, mamma I"
asked Lucy. ut was | who was going to be
so brave, and now look at me-"
"Did you see the purchaser 2"
"Yes-a tall man with heavy beard. Oh !
I hope we need not meet him! But there be
is coming in. Let us go?"
She flew to the door and opened it, medita.
ting retreat. The groups out side fell back
at the sight of her white face.
A heavy step was heard ascending the
o,lo nd
pectant, it drew nearer. 1t was the man
with the heavy beard She could see, in her
fright, and almost hate, that his face was
working with emotion.
As ifit we're his right, he passed into the
little room, shut the door, and, as Lucy re.
treated, planted himself against it. Then he
gazed searching by from mother to daughter.
Then he held out both hands beseechingly,
and, with cry that was almost wall, ex.
claimed, piteously:
"Have you quite forgotten me-you and
little Lucy3"
"Mother, it is my father |" screamed Lucy,
and ran straight into his open arms. Il
knew all at once" she sobbed-"all at once
Oh father, father Mother come here-fath
er has come back from the dead!"
The woman thus appealed to, staggered to
her feet, still regarding him with bewildered
eyes and dizzy brain.
"John, Johnl and you were killed, they
told me !" she cried, in hollow tones.
"Yes, was taken up for dead from under
the wrecked cars. For weeks and weeks
l was in the hospital. Afterward | saw the
report of my death. and let it go. | ,Oas dead,
in certain sense-I felt myself ruined