Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1881-08-16

snouiucrcu person, WIN much worn
black slouch hat pulled down over his
eyes. Instantly Doris remembered with
thrill of terror that the front door was
unbolted, and that Mr.. Scribe had spoken
of the number of tramps that he had met
the day before She ran out into the
entry, but the intruder had opened the
door, and was very coolly ascending the
stairs
For moment her heart almost stopped
beating. Her money! Springing lightly
back into the room, she seized her port
monnaie-but, alas she had no pocket
in her dress. 1.-The clock" Who or
what whispered this her excited fancy
could not tell. Opening the door Of the
clock case, she dropped the portmonnaie
therein, shut it, and as the strange man
entered the open door after moments
hesitation. Doris was standing before her
easel, pale, in hand.
Il want began the i'll. looking
stranger, whose face was almost hidden
by heavy brown beard and moustache
-" want"
Bat Doris held up her hand imperative
/ ly. Above her sense OF personal fear came
sudden recollection of her mother eX-
tremc ,imidity and tendency to palpitation
Of the heat. Should she be rudely awak-
ened and know that a tramp, possibly
burglar. was in the house, the fright might
kill her.
:" Sir" said Doris, in a low but remark
ably firm voice, considering her terror.
my mother, who is delicate and very
easily startled, is asleep in the next room
will YOU obhge me 10y speaking lower. y
Certainly, Miss" was the rather cour-
teous answer, though the man did not
even remove his hat" what | wanted
was. to--bleS, me :" he exclaimed, sud-
denly intcrrupiing himself, as he caught
sight of the easel with the hal;-finished
copy Of the picture hanging above it
" Why, that's admirable, only-look
here" Stepping briskly to the window,
he took the pallet from Doriss unresist-
ing hand, and without seeming to notice
that she fled swiftly across the room, Sc
lectcd a brush and began TO paint, ccl-
den,ly with practlced touch.
"Why, he must be mad, thought poor
Doris, not knowing whether to tiy to her
mothers chamber or down stairs and into
! the street.
"Tun your head little this way
there, So" said this singular individual
in rather commanding voice, as he
glanced up at her. As Doris in her be-
wildcrment obeycd, she heard tie front
door open-and yes, thank heaven, 1t
was Mr.. Scribc's familiar step, bu; she
dared not stir to meet him.
why, Doris" exclaimed Mr.. Scribe,
as springing up stairs Ike boy, he en-
tered the room in his usual breezy way,
" How pale you are, child. What
but catching sight OF the stranger, who
absorbed in his work seemed to have
eyes for nothing else, he stared at him 4
moment, and then burst into a roar of
laughter.
"Well. VAN" he exclaimed, your
a cool hand. must say, coming in with
ou, even dotiing your chapeau to my
adopted daughter, and worse still, taking
her work from her hands, Ill venture to
say without so much as a by your leave. ~
Miss Doris, continued Mr.. Scribe,
this is Mr.. Nandykc Brown. the artist. y
Doris bowed silently. Mr. Brown NUT
tered something inaudIble and went on
painting without a word. while Mr.. Scribe
stood looking on in silent amusement at
his friends eccentrcities.
Poor Doris. She hardly knew whether
to laugh or cry, but she kept her face
bravely, for she knew how numerically
Mr.. Scribe would joke her if he knew OF
the blunder into which her fears had be-
,rayed her.
There" said the artist, drawing a
long breath. Miss Doris, really beg
your pardon for my seeming rudenes', but
| could not help doing this. The copy
and the subject are both so charming,
he added with county bow.
"Oh," said Doris, in low voice, as
she venturcd to look at the completed
work. For there on the canvas was a
reproduction of her ancestor face, and
yet her own withal, but painted in the
mastery style which characterizes Mr..
Vandykc Browns pictures. Doris mur-
INJURED her confused thanks. and after a
few more words the two gentlemen with
drew to Mr.. Scribes study.
"What a foolish ninny | was" ex-
claimed Doris, half aloud, alternately
fas hing and paling with vexation. as
she recalled her blunder. Yet thankful
from the bottom of her heart, that she
had not betrayed herself.
Opening the clock case she thrust her
arm down toward the bottom. Her
portmonnaie was between the case itself
and something which prevented her from
reaching it. San iron clock weight"
thought Doris, as reaching down with
both hands she lifted the heavy obstruc-
ton to the light. But no clock weight
was this. 1t was a curiously wrought
iron or steel Golfer about foot square,
covered with rust, cobwebs and dust.
And az her trembling fingers lifted the
cover exposed quantity of tarnished
gold and silver coin, Doris knew the
long lost Grant treasure was discovered
/ need not tell you of Mrs. Grant
bewildered wonderment, or Mr.. Scribe $
unbounded astonishment. Whether 1t
came there after the manner Of the ira
dition was never determined, nor did