Shenandoah herald. [volume] (Woodstock, Va.) 1865-1974, 1878-09-04

huSDanu also.
The young girl retired 10 bed with
feeling of desolatien at the heart which
may be easily imagined, and fell asleep
weeping bitterly for her old, happy In
dian life, when she was the idol of her
father, and darling Of her ayab.
She weke-or, rather, she struggled
back to consciousness-wlth these words
running through her mlnd-'the result
being mysterious death, which no one
could account for
1t was disagreeable remark to occur
to one in the middle Of the night, and it
reused her to q preternatural wakeiul-
ness.
She began to ponder oyer the events
of the past evening, when suddenly
something struck her ear which sent all
the blood tlngling to her heart.
II was like the trailing Of long mus
lin robe over the thick carpet which COW
cred the floor, and a cautious rufiling OF
paper. the one sound following the 9TH
or with the slow and regular monoteny
Of a machine.
The night was one Of the darkest and
the bed was IN an alcove, SO that view
of the room could not be had but Dora
OWNED, with a choking Of the breath,
the meaning of the strange sounds.
Penelope Ariingford was in the room.
Before she had retired, Dor had read
a chapter from the large bible which lay
on her table.
She perfectly rccollected placing it on
the end Of the sofa near the window
when she had finished reading it.
She felt that ker rival was on her
knees before the book, impregnating its
leayes with the volatile poison which
Walter Cary had spoken Of, and that as
she finished each leaf and turned il
slowly oyer, her long muslin sleeve
swept the edge of the book, making the
stealthy sounds which had aroused her
intended victim.
Dora lay bound hand and foot by a
feeling which almost stopped the beat
ing of her heart.
Remember she had grown up amid
scenes of passion and violence; she had
been among the helpless ones at Gavin
pore, when the Sepoys massacred their
victims in cold blood and death was
not so strange weapon III the hands
of young girl, to her, as it would be
to us nay, it seemed the weapon by
which Penelope Arlingford would most
likely strike for love and wealth.
Motionless, her eyes distended, the
cold dew of agony dripping from every
limb, the orphan girl lay and listened to
this evidence OF treachery.
All at once a board at the side of the
bed creaked, as though weary foot
was passing over it, and the long swish
of the garments followed.
Then the door softly burst open as if
without hand, a flow Of air from the pas
sage rushed across the girls rigid face,
and she heard amid the suf'ocating
throbbings in her ears, the first crow Of
some neighboring chanticleer.
Her terror ended in swoon.
When she came to herself it was
broad daylight.
The golden sunshine way lying across
her pillow, and the perfumes of the red
honeysuckle came in thro' the open
window and filled the pretty chamber.
All seemed innocence and peace
around her, but the soul Of the orphan
GIRL was filled with astonishmcnt.
She could scarcely arrange her
thoughts at first, so terrible was the Or
deal through which she had passed; but
at length she saw thai she must leave
the house Immediately that she must
relinquish both her alliance and her for
tune if she would feel her life safe.
oh, papa my papa! wept poor Dora,
you have made a terrible mistake y
When she joined the family, in an
swer to the breakfast bell, she was in
her travelling dress, and her trunks were
all repacked.
why, cousin Dora, what is the mat
ter? Arc you i'll, dear?' asked Penelope
in q soft, cooling voice, which seemed
habitual to her.
Dora turned her back upon her mid
night visitor, and, striving to speak
calmly, said to Mr.. Arlingford, Il wish to
90 TO London to day, sir. Please allow
some one 10 drive me TO the station
There was a pause Of CONSERVATION,
then they all with one accord began to
plead with her to change her mind, and
none of the three were so urgent and
tender about it as Penelope.
Just try us dear cousin y she entreat,
ed. 'Of course you will be lonely at first
Everything is so dlflerent-but who
will make you happier than we can ?
Has anybody offended you, dear Dora p
Me- answered Dora, shuddering, but
l shall prefer to live alone
You are so young, so ignorant ~the
ways of our town. said quiet Mrs. Ar
lingferd, her Ginning in anxiously, 1T
is a mad thing tor you to think of child
i must co. responded the orphan,
averting her pallid face that the dark
misery of it might not be seen.
So, when the persuasions of himself
and the pleadngs and tears Of his wo-
men ayailed not, Mr.. Arlingford got