Shepherdstown register. [volume] (Shepherdstown, Va. [W. Va.]) 1849-1955, 1881-12-31

LIZ As a6esAA4s
Then she would return?
Oh, certainly for she had left her Lit
tie girl.
"See, sir" said the smiling landlady,
lifting q shawl from two chairs, "isn'i
she the prettiest love you ever saw9"
is5bars Dyson gazed in silence at
Meenie, rosily flushed with sleep, and,
without word, quilted the room.
"The woman has fed, leaving the
child here" he reflected. "She must
be found" And he proceeded to the
police station to lay information. As
he went, o parishioner wished him the
seasons greeting.
ga merry Christmas for me-" he nut
tered, with a bitter laugh. "And yet
how few hours ago deemed it would be
the happiest aud best So IL might had
I given that scoundrel the money he
waited. But, no." resolutely; 81 am
glad I did not. will brave him, and
John Buchanan at court of justice
shall cravs my mercy, not I his"
But the fading OF John Buchanan
aud the woman proved no easy task.
Both had disappeared.
Robert Dyson put the matter IN the
hands of a detective /; but with no i'm
mediate result.
Meanwhile, the little forlorn, aban-
doned wait, "Meenie," remained at the
inn.
What was to be done with the child
The good. natured landlady decided.
A bit and sup couldn't be much for
such a mite. She would take care OF 1t
until matters were arranged, when, per
haps, she might be rewarded for her
trouble by them to whom the little
thing belonged. In her own mind
she referred to Robert Dyson. Redlands
was divided in its opinion regarding
him. If only for the sake Of opposition
and argument, people always do divide.
As to the minister himself, he had not
only told his story-how his mother, q
rather weak, vain, pretty woman. had
inveigled, to her misery, into marriage
with scoundrel, while he, Robert, was
at Cambridge-to Helen D'Almaine and
her father, but he let it be known to all
Redlands, also, how foolishly he had paid
John Buchanan to keep silence, having
nervous dread OF disgrace, and also OF
that last meeting at the Manse gate,
with John Buchanan's threats.
Mr.. D'Almaine said he SAW no reason
to disbslieve r ebert Dyson's story; yet
the charge made against him was q
daring and dangerous one for even an
enemy to make, and until everything
was satisfactorily made clear to the pub
lie, he could not consent to receive
Robert Dyson rs previously, much less
az Helen's affianced husband.
The minister's position was bitter to
bear. Those who once had been friends
turned cold aud even those who showed
no outward change, he knew mistrusted
him in their hearts, while he became an
object of curious interest and gossip to
the poorer classes.
More than once John Buchanan's
words had come true. He wished he
had given him the money. But 1t was
but momentary weakness.
ono" he exclaimed, firmly. "What-
ever comes, I'll live it down. 1t Is J.,
not he, who shall conquer"
s. the days went by. Christmas Eve
c,ma. Robert Dyson passed 1t alone:
10 had had invitations, but refused
them. How could he be gay with this
dark cloud about him2 A cloud which,
if he could not dispese it, must sep
arate him from Helen.
Christmas morning dawned. The
heavy snowfall had melted, q wild wind
blew over the land, but the sky was clear
and bright.
For the first tina since the event,
r bert ID yson assembled the pulpit. His
glance round showed many seats vacant.
There were those who had judged aud
condemned him already. He bit his
lip. Then, abruptly, b. put aside the
sermon he had prepared, and, fronting
the congregation, calmly gave out the
text, Judge not, lest ye be- judged"
It was an impromptu sermon. Com
ing from his heart, ittoueh ed the hearts
of others, but it hausted Robert
Dyson. Reaching the vestry, he dropped
into a seat, his head bowed on his hands.
"The fight is too difficult" he moaned'
81 must sucoumb; I cannot bear 1t !!
He waited until tho groups that lin
pered in the churchyard to talk over the
startling and powerful sermon had gone,
then went to his solitary Christmas
dinner at the Manse. He had but one
consolation, Helen had met his glance
from the D'Almaine pew with bright,
encouraging smile.
Never was day moro drrar to Rober!
Dyson, who had reckoned tir On its being
the merriest. While it was light he
remained at home, not caring to meoi
mems glauces; but when the early
winter night set in, he wandered forth,
too restless, too wretched to remain
longer still.
he involuutarily bent his steps to the
Manor. Entering the grounds by
private gate, he proceeded through the
trees until he came in front OF the
house.
F;on every window issued rays Of
light; figures passed and repassed the
blinds of the lower rooms. Occasion
ally, strains of m usic reached him.
But for John Buchanan he migh'
have been there-there with Helen, hi
betrothed, who now, he knew, mourned
in her heart as did he. But for John
Buchanan
Robert Dyson, throwing up hi
arms, ia his bittar indignation,
cursed him. Then, after space. mad,
dened by being so near Helen, yet m
able to join her, he tore himself from
the spot, and wandered across the
fields.
He had not observed, as he quilted
the Manor grounds. a man emerge from
the shadow and follow him. Apparent
", he had the intention Of overtakins
the other, only the latter walked to-
fast.
Nevertheless, now and again pufins
IL l., l.