The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1880-11-06

place where she was born - She's
dead - Sister Anna is. Dropped
dead in the street - The child looks
like her mother.''
He sighed and turned over restlessly.
Durand again arranged the bed-clothes
about him, and then opened the door
and went to the head of the stairs. Old
Dick was below, perhaps in his barber
shop. At all events, he could not wait
any longer for him; nor did there seem
TO be any reason why he should, for he
felt certain that a woman or somebody
was in the next room, who would hear
the sick man, if he called or needed any
thing. So, buttoning his coat, he crept
cautiously down the dark stairs and
through the shop to the front door,
which he found unlocked. As he step
ped out, Dick presented himself.
You mus excuse me, sar, for Use
gut de rheumatics pow'ful bad, an hab
to gwo Slow said the old negro. 81
los de 'scription besides, an it took
time for to find it,
/" Never mind any apology" said Du.
rand: 81 can not stay longer now, but
| will come again tomorrow night; and
4 III tue u6duWHllo-'
"Oh! thank you, sar, thank you berry
much, sar," said Dick, bowling his white
woody head, while he folded ''green-
back' that had exchanged owners.
On the following night, however, Du-
rand was detained at his desk by press
of work, which he did not finish until
the small hours of the morning; and il
was about daybreak when he turned
out of an East side avenue into the mar
row little court leading to Dicks barber
shop. 1t was just at that time between
darkness and daylight when the air is
chilly, the streets are deserted, and the
sound of ones own footsteps on the
pavement is disagreeably loud. The
shabby old houses in the court were as
still as if they had been asleep for ages
and before Durand had proceeded many
steps he heard the soft, gentle music OF
a flute floating down from the house
top-a fantasia or dream fugue by some
old master. He listened, with breath
suspended, until it had become fainter
and fainter and finally died away.
Then, seized with strange feeling OF
dread, he made haste to gain admittance
to the tenement where Dick had his
charge, and hurried quietly up the stairs.
But no one was astir in the house, and
after reaching the attic, he waited a few
moments before venturing to knock.
g By and by he heard some one sobbing
within, and he slowly opened the door.
1t was there, as his heart had dreaded.
Death had come. Lying, propped up
on the pillows, the old gentleman had
passed away, and his lifeless hand still
hung at the bedside, holding the flute.
Cast down before him, with her face
pressed against the coverlet and her
arms about his neck, was woman, her
long, luxuriant blonde hair falling
disheveled over her shoulders. The
negro stood at the foot of the bed, where
the morning light fell upon him from
the open skylights, as though he were
dumb.
Durand crept near, and while he was
looking intently at the pale, dead face he
could not resist the impulse to call to it
to awake it.
" Snedekor! Snedekor!n he whisper
ed.
ellis name am not Snedekor, sar.
He was Cunnel Robert De Vere.''
" He was my father" said the lady,
turning up to Durand the beautiful face
of Elaine De We're and rising slowly.
Snedekor's little mystery had come to
an end.-F. B. STANFORD, IN N. Y. indie.
De11deat.