Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1879-04-04
Gales ano Skrttbes.
THE FATE OF THE FOSBROOKES.
Continued from Yesterday

Once this would have been spark on
tow. 1t tpassed mheeded. All the Squire
seemed to heed was his wifes appeal for
haste which his own voice seconded on
her account. he said. Himself wrote a
hurried letter of recall. At once Reginald
became oifciously active. He dispatched
a trusty messenger with the missve; so
trusty that he failed to return before the
danes ears were closed to any message
he might bring.
DAYS went by. The whte-haired Squire
paced the corridors as anNiously expectant
as the sick lady in the state bed But the
shitty or irritable answers of Reginald to
her inquiries had aroused suspicion of
trcachery.
As the end drew nigh. she insisted on
being carried to Rupert's chamber as the
only chance of seeing the face of her lost
son.
They thought her mind was wandering.
Her meaning was clear enough to them all
when her chair was placed in front of Ru-
pcrt's picture, which vet bore the mark of
the Squire whip across ITS surface.
Not more eagerly did Barbara Fos-
brookes filming eyes trace the well-re-
membered ineaments of her banished son
than did those of the old Squire, in whom
affection had seemed SO long dead. while
Reginald and Annabel looked lost in
amazcment.
Lies fire relit Barbara's wan features
as she gazed. Strength came to her anew.
She kissed the Squre's brown hand as the
other dashed from his eyes the fast-gather-
ing tears; and then marking the scowl ON
Reginald's swarthv face as he skunk be-
md aIaip ba al
right hand, and extending it toward the
picture. said mpressively, in voice which
seemed to have gathered preternatural
strength for the effort; Rupert, my son,
call and thou dost not answer: have
longed for thee and thou dost not come.
But thou shalt come, and thou and thine be
masters of fosbrooke when treachey has
done its worst. lcannot die in my bed for
lack of thy presence. But if there be
treacherv let those who keep thee back
answer for it, for never shall Fosbrooke
die in his bed till the lost be recalled. and
younger and elder join hands in love and
friendship under the old roof-tree.''
"And mark You, Reginald my curse
shall cling to him who dares destroy or
disturb the picture have preserved and
cherished the solace of my old age
The tlickering flame was spent. Bar
bara Fosbrooke fell back in her chair. and
there with the painted eyes of son, grand
son and daughter-in-aw fixedly set upon
her. she closed her own forever.
He "would never set living foot in For
brooke Manor again was the verbal mes
sage said to come from Rupert; and the
old man WINGED as he listened, for the
words were his own-never forgotten, it
seemed by either He had no doubt of
the messengers fidelity; no thought of
duplicity in his eldest-born. He accepted
this answer as final made no second at
tempt at reconciliation never again men,
toned Rupert name. But from that holir
change fell upon him, All his old sports
were neglected Reginald might hunt and
shoot. and fill the manor house with rows
tering 'Squires; he kept himself aloof,
and he would pace the long corridor be-
tween his own chamber and Rupert's by
the hour together not seldom turning into
the unused room and lingering there alone
with his regretful memories.
The servants said he was bewitched:
and Reginald threatened to burn Rupert's
picture in earnest, since ii seemed like TO
turn his fathers brain. And no doubt he
would have carried his threat into execu-
ton but for an appalling incident which
made the very room and all within it ter
ror to him.
The only sport to which the Squire had
clung was angling. Ii was quiet, and all
noise and buster had rs it were. died out
Continued on Fourth Page.)