Savannah morning news. [volume] (Savannah) 1868-1887, 1884-03-09

JUL VI hlg way VIII our director. WHO
lived in Soho, ana instead of going down
Oxford street, and so on across Cavendish
square, had diyerged to the left, and thus
had to retrace my steps to Oxford street,
and, therefore, turned down Great MARI
borough street. 1t was a dark, gusty
night; it had been blowing a northeast
WIND Tor many days and was most wretch
eddy cold. Every few minutes the wind
came in blasts, almost blowing out the
street lamps, and / had much ado to keep
my hat on my head. ] turned into Marl-
borough street on the left-hand side of the
way; 1t appeared quite deserted, not even
a cat TO be seen, when / heard light, rapid
Footsteps approaching me from the oppo-
site direction along the pavement, and
suddenly an indistinct form, that of a fe-
male, emerged from the darkness, run
nlng-nay, hying-tOward me. l caught
aglmpse of her white face, as she passed
a street lamp, but suppose the light from
IL shone strongly upon me, for instead of
pursuing her course she stopped short,
caught my arm as she was almost reeling,
and in painting voice, said:
"SaYe met'
was so utterly taken by surprise that
for the moment L could not reply.
"Oh, save me!' she implored again,
placing her hands on my arm.
From WhOm?-frOm WhatP' l said.
Glide me, hide me, save me from him
he is cOming-harku
sure enough, heard far down the street
mans footsteps in the distance. The
poor creature seemed desperate. | am
man. What could do, thus appealed to?
The best feelings of my nature were
aroused. Impelled by | know not what
, impulse, L grasped a thin, fragile wrist
"Run" | said. guided her from of the
pavement into the road where our foot
steps could not be heard, back again
| round the corner | had just turned into
Poland street, up which l hurried her
I but no place of refuge offered. The foot
steps were still following us in our rear.
l paused; my companion by her spas
mOdic breathing appeared exhausted.
On the other side of the way was a dark
turning-a news, l think. We flew over
to it. 1 hoped to find some doorway III its
4 gloom that would hide us. There were
only stable doors, all closed, an empty
cart, acOstermOnger's truck, and behind
a four-wheeled cab resting on the shafts.
/ Without hesitating a moment / turned the
| handle of the door, opened it, and assisted
my companion into it, sprang in beside
| her, softly closed the door, sitting far back
| in the corners. So nOiseless was my poor
! fugitive that l think for few moments
! she must have been insensible with terror
and exhaustion. All this did from i'm
! pulse; why did it ] cannot tell. In the
meantime the steps came on and on,
/ passed, for heavier ones, the tread of an
4 other person approached, also stopping
| just at the opening that led to our refuge.
! strained my ears to listen.
CAT fault" said a deep-tOned voice;
Ibid she not come this way?'
at appears not So" replied the other
/ pursuer in a foreign accent; ''the streets
/ deserted are, she ran so fleet, so fleet-I
! lost her in the Dunkelheit."
''Then she must have run up the steps
/ into Oxford street; there was no other
way, and if"-here a sudden gust of wind
! interpOsed; L lost what followed. Then
! they hurriedly retraced their steps down
! Poland street.
/ There was a total silence. My compan-
ion at last gave a long-drawn sigh. st.
Anne's Church, Soho, chimed the half
hour of ..
"AIl seems quiet" said in whisper
81 think we may venture to leave our ref
| uge now. Tell me where l can take you
where is your homer
| 81 have none"
''Tell me, then, where do you come from,
and whom were you flying from tonight"
She shuddered.
Il was flying from one who was hunting
me down. 1 was flying from one who is
/ the mortal enemy of my child. Oh. my
child! l must return to my child, who is
/ starvingv
l noticed, then, for the first time Pc
i cular accent, which pointed to a foreign
/ origin.
You should apply to a magistrate for
I protection. Tell me how you are stu
ated-perhaps may be able to assist, or,
4 at least, advise yOu''
81 am q widow. That man from whom
/ | fly is my husbands brOther-he seeks to
/ gain possession of my boy. / have hith-
! erto eluded HMM Vienna, In Paris. He
has followed us to London at last. am
/ reduced to beggary-my boy is starving.
/ | left him tonight to go and sell my we'd
nearly IL O'clOck-in Regent street, met
/ him face to face, and he recognized me.
He must have been, l think, lying in wait
! for me. Yet L have thought ! was so Sc
/ curely hidden in place where rats only
| live. l ran to escape him, up one street
and down another, fear g to return to
my refuge and my boy, in case he should
/ track me. | saw you; goodness shOne in
/ your eyes; / implored you to save me.
/ You have done SO-fOr the time. Gene
! rOus young man, / must return to my
/ child! Come and see him, if you WHIP
/ We descended nOiselessly from the cab,
/ again venturing into Poland street. All
was silent and deserted as a cemetery at
! nighttime, yet this was the heart of a
/ very busy neighborhoOd. where the houses
4 are let off to artisans of almost every
/ trade-thickly peopled as rabbit war
/ rem. All was quiet, no policemen were in
/ sight. My companion took the lead, walk
/ ing rapidly little in advance of me. We
/ returned over our former route, down
/ Great Marlborough street, keeping well
/ in the shade. AS far as / could Judge,
my poor refugee was young, upright as
] an arrow, very thin and fragile clothed
/ in scant black garments. Once she turned
/ to look behind her, and even in the OBJ
security l noticed that her eyes appeared
! luminous and distinguished their color or
! shape. We proceeded cautiously down
! Marlborough street. At the corner of
! Marlborough place there stand two houses.
| adjoining one another, forming the angle
| of the two streets, dilapidated, almost ru-
/ nous. Ever since l can remember they
! have been the same; l suppose they are
/ in chancery, but they are called in that
! neighborhood the ''haunted house," The
! glass panes have disappeared from the
windows, their frames are black with age;
! through the festOOns of cObwebs you can
4 see what have been mahogany shutters,
\ with ornamental headings of furnished
1 gold. The areas are full of rubbish-the
accumulations of years; stones thrown
! by boys who have now become grown men
still lie where they fell; refuse, paper,
/ dead cats and empty bottles. The hall
! doors devoid of paint-blistered of by the
! sun of many, many summers, cracked and
/ splintered, but nailed up with planks.
| These miserable, mysterious houses are
the nlementO mort of a bright, prosperous
! locality within sight of worldly Regent
street, like the skeleton of an Egyptian
feast.
To my great surprise my companion
stopped before the door of one Of those
ruined mansions. She looked right and left,
mounted the large stone doorstep, and by
dint of pushing the door, which had fallen
from the hinges, succeeded in partially
opening it wide enough to squeeze through.
l followed. l confess my heart for the
first time failed me when the idea sud
denly flashed upon me of the possibility
that L was decOyed into quetapens-a
trap-perhaps to he robbed and murdered.
L had not much to lose-very little money,
only silver watch and my beloved violin,
which l carried in its case. Then
thought of my mother, who must be I'M
easy at my unusual absence, and, as |
SAID, my heart sank. Ny companion
closed the door behind her with the same
effort and care; then she took my hand in
her little, slight, nervous one, leading me
across what was apparently a large en-
trance hall, smelling damp and moldy
| with pent-up heavy air, down passage,
dimly visible by means of a tall, dull
window, toward the back of the house,
the boards loose and loudly cracking I'M
4 der out feet: she. CROPPING, turned a cor