Democratic messenger. [volume] (Snow Hill, Md.) 1869-1973, 1881-05-28

was among notes Tor fifty, nifty, nifty,
clean to the bottom of the cash-box. He
laid his throbbing forehead against the
cold wall, and drew the box to him, and
feebly restored the notes and smoothed
them down. Mechanically he took up
from the floor the scrap of written
paper which had enfolded the key, and
laying that on the top of the notes he
closed and locked the cash-box.
Now Ashford Warren enjoyed the adj
vantage of belonging to Parish Union,
the centre of which was four miles away.
The official centre of the Parish Union
was the union workhouse. Two Irish
tramps, woefully broken and amazingly
hungry, had missed their way, and had
got in the darkness of the early winter
night into the road which led to the
deserted house, under the impression
that it was theroad which led to Ashford
Warren.
Tiburce Menseau heard footsteps, and
listened with his hands on the cash-box,
and his heart in his mouth. The steps
came nearer, and he blew out his candle,
and listened again, quaking. Think
how the thief and coward shook as the
steps drew near Then came knock
at the door of the house, and fell like
the knock of doom on the shaking COW.
ards heart. Could this be John Jones
returned? Think how he shook at that
fancy
Messieurs the Irish reapers raped
again, and, finding no response, grew
bolder and began to try the doors.
Then. footsteps came round the house
nearer and nearer to the place where
Tiburce crouched. Then desperation
lent him sudden energy. He buttoned
his ragged coat over the cash-box, and
pushed one end of it between his hungry
ribs and the waistband of his tattered
trousers, and with stealthy step made
for the chimney. Up went his head as
a hand was laid upon the door and
shook its fastening. He felt about
wildly with his hands and feet. The
chimney was built with projecting bricks,
and he began to ascend. He had only
two or three feet to climb before his
hand could grasp the bar at the top.
Messieurs the tramps were setting their
shoulders at the door, and he was hal
uGuIlOuS Will tSIIOI. Lie SpdCc wis
growing narrower. Could he force HIM
self beyond the bar? At any cooler
time he might have hesitated, but now
he struggled like mailman to get past
it. The door gave way with crash he
missed his footing, his hands failed, he
dropped with his chin upon the bar, and
the back of his head upon projecting
brick three inches to this side or to
that he would have fallen clear. In the
dead silence that followed the crashing
fall of the door the tramps heard hor-
rible gurgling voice and hollow sound
of struggling, ard with superstitious
terror pinching at their souls, they
turned with one accord and fed with the
fear of the dumb, dark night
about them.
CHAPTER V.
John Jones, after his second night in
a workhouse, walked back along the
gloomy road on which he had lost his
packet. Day after day, with the stout
heart aching, he tramped along, weari-
ly, YEARLY, and at last reached the lit
tie village where he had left his love.
She was penniless by this time, beyond
a doubt. He had been eight days
away. Eight days? 1t looked like
eighty years. He had q weeks beard
upon his face, and he was caked with
mud. He was as forlorn-looking tramp
as one might find in England. 1t was
growing dark as he sat upon a stone
fence and looked down at the little vii
lage. In the growing darkness rustic
boy of about ten years of age came up
hill, making his way to the village.
"Are you going to Ashford ?" asked
the tramp.
"Ees," said the boy; 81 be-" And
he edged away with one defensive elbow
raised.
Don't be afraid of me. I won't
hurt you. Do you know Mrs. Norton's
cottage ?"
"Ees, do" said the boy across his
elbow, resentfully.
."Miss Barclay lives there" said the
tramp. "Will you go to the house and
say that Mr.. Mackenzie wants to see
Miss Barclay at the railway station
Can you remember that 2"
"Ees," said the boy again.
MT. OOa al
the railway station"
"Ahl roight," said the youthful rus
tic, and clattered away in hob-nailed
shoon.
Somewhat doubtful of the delivery of
his message, the forlorn young man
made his way towards the railway
station, and waited in the unlighted
lane which led to it. He had not to
wait very long. A light and eager foot
step came down the lane, and dark as
it was, he fancied he knew the figure.
"Is that you, Nell ?" he asked.
"Walter - she answered in startled
voice. "Where are you ?"
"Here," he said j; "don't be fright
ened. I'm such spectacle. l didn't
want you to see me in the daylight.
I've walked from Liverpool"
"Walked from Liverpool ?" she cried.
He told his story, and told it to his
own disadvantage with many terms of
self-disparagement. She heard it all,
and then to his amazement she laughed
"a little laugh of honest humor. If
she could have seen him she would not
have laughed, but she knew nothing of
his uuHPer Or Ills pIIVdtIonS. 1uem ue
had excluded from his narrative.
"Poor Walterl'' she said. ST won
dered why you did not write or come
to me. 1 suppose the packet was about
the money. 1t doesn't matter, for the
is found"
"Found?"
eyes. Found. Mr.. Netherley, the
lawyer at Wharton, had cash-box to