The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, 1883-08-23
TRI-W EEKLY EDITION.

loCCl, "AlCll Spttkleu WlCIl lllallS llSllS
through the trees like an ogre's eye.
Darkness and the obscurity Of the
shrubbery welcomed him abroad at
this unusual hour. He strolled about
the gravel paths, tanning himself with
his hat, and paused beneath the pro-
JectIng roof of the Ornamentcd kiOsQue
OF the Silver Spring.
"There will be thunder storm be-
fore morning." soliloquized the Pro-
fessor, replacing his hat.
All was deliciously still here, and far
below, guarded by the encircling basin,
bubbled the Silver Spring, cool and
llmpid source Of health, as the Profess
sor firmly believed. Had not the
nymph of the fountain spread her
wings in startled flight in the disas-
trous change from rural tranquility to
fashionable resort? The Professor
Leaned on the parapet, and peered into
the crystal depths of the spring, musing
III this vein. AS he did SO he perceived
two persons advancing from opposite
directions to meet a few yards distant
from himself They proved to be a
man and Il woman, and they scarcely
paused before separating again with
the same rapidity Of movement as they
had met.
wait for me. "s;lid the woman 81
shall have to manage, to get away at
all"
Il will wait till morning," replied
the man.
''She is sure to dance tc the very
last, you know" added the woman.
DON'T lose your head, that's all, "
admonishcd the man.
II lose my head, indeed!" retorted
the woman, whose voice and bearing
were youthful.
The Professor moved slowly away,
scarcely needing these words waited to
his ear by passing breeze. At an an
gle OF the path was Il rustic bench be-
meath larch-trce, known. rs Professor
liorton's favorite seat. IIither he
directed his steps in an irritated mood
and sank down on it in sheer weari-
ness. The scent of flowers reached
him, while the foliage seemed to spread
above him fragrant robes of darkness. -
Grateful repoSe succeeded noise and
light, lulling all his senses to soft obiv-
ion; he fell asleep.
lie was awakened by terrific peal
OF thunder, and opened his eyes with a
bewildering uncertainty as to surround
ing objects. The trees swayed wildly
in the rising wind; few large drops of
rain fell heavily among the leaves;
lightning quivcred on the horizon.
Suddenly female form bent over him,
some small object was thrust into his
hand, and a voice whispered in his ear:
81 am early. She had a headache.
Quick! take them, or l shall be missed.
The thunder rolled, the trees Swayed,
the woman vanished. Professor IIor--
ton winked several times, and opened
his mouth to speak, then closed his lips
without a sound. The object thus
unexpectedly consigned to his care was
u small leather bag, scarcely more
than a tobacco pouch, and heavy.
Mechanically he thrust it into one of
the wide pockets of his loose coat.
Hark! A heavy footstep crushed the
gravel on the patch to the right. The
professor rose to his own feet as if
moved by a spring, his knees shook,
his teeth chattcred, deadly fear
smote him.
Fear of what, evil? He did not know.
TO shrink to the left, gam the next
clump OF shrubbery, and conceal him
self, was the work of a moment, and
accomplished with the more ease that
he knew every inch of ground from
long familiarity. Had he not planted
many OF these trees which now proved
friends? The hiding place gained was
a larch surrounded by stiff little Japa-
nese cedars, and forming a sort of
labarynth. Scarcely had the Professor
glided into this shelter than vivid
sheet Of lightning illuminated the whole
country side. lie saw himself seated
on the rustic bench beneath the larch-
trcel lie could not believe the evil
dence of his own senses; the breath
remained suspended on his lips. Had
he been a devout Catholic he would
have crossed himself, invoking the
protection Of a calendar of saints; a
chill of SupcrstitiOus dread certainly
stagnated his blood. Was he to be-
lieve that his hour had cOmel There
sat his own image on the rustic bench,
the soft felt hat pulled down over the
brow, the broad shoulders, the slouch-
ing nondescript attire; nothing was
lacking to complete the resemblance.
Was he still asleep, victim of night
mare, or had he gone mad? He
pinched his flesh and rubbed his eyes
violently. The figure under the larch-
tree did not vanish. Swift realization
Of the truth dawned on the drowsy
scholar. He was alone, at u distance
from the now silent hotel, and he had
i'll his pocket bag which belonged to
the other. What if this unknown had
found him still on the bench2 What If
he emerged now, accostcd the stranger,
and gave him the bag?
81 should be murdered as sure as
there is heaven above u.s." shuddercd
the man of letters, with a conviction
for which he could give no reason.
at this junction the wind freshened,
and the rain fell in torrents, while the
lightning became less frequent. Pro-
fessor Horton quilted the larch-tree,
reached the hotel with surprising agil-
ity, found a window of the recent
ballroom unfastened, groped his way
through that deserted apartment and
gained his own chamber. The bag
was gone. lie had lost it from tile
wide pocket, probably in his fight. His
watch marked two O'Clock. The Pro-
fessor extinguished the candle. opened
the shutters Of the window, and seated
himst If with his eyes fixed on the
eastern horizon. lie was a prey to the
most exciting emotions.
Professor Horton was the first YOtary
Of the Silver Spring abroad next morn