The Pickens sentinel. [volume] (Pickens, S.C.) 1871-1903, 1884-05-15
the pawnshop; tnen L may, pcrh~,
get it back when Walter sends us somo


With heavy heart and weary lag
ging steps, / departed on my hateful
task. All our things had been sold, we
had preferred to lose them to going in
to that last digracoful refuge of the dos
titutc, London pawnbrokor's.
Arrived outside, l paced to and fro,
until my tottoring limbs, weak from ill
ness and continual fasting, warned mo
that my strength would not hold out
much longer
entered. Only one other porson, q
tall dark gentleman, whose face could
not SEQ in the somi-darknoss, stood
there talking TO the shop-man.
" tell you, my man, tho plato is
here. 1t has been traced by u clevor
detective, who will join me hero in q
few minutes. He is only delaying be-
cause he thinks he has traced tho
thief, and has gone to follow up the
search"
"Well, sir, am sure you arc mis-
taken, but my principal will bo here in
few moments, you must talk to him.
What can do for you, young womanp"
he asked, turning TO me somewhat ca
gcrly, evidently glad of an excuse to
eVade his unpleasant visitors CONVEX
sation.
Unable to speak, l drew forth my
treasure. The shopman looked suspic-
iously at me as he took it up and test
cd it,
"Your name and address, please"
he said sharply. "And how much do
you wantp"
Il want ia little money, if you
please" faltorcd
AS 1 spoke the gentleman turned,
and could feel q pair of bright keen
eyes scanning my pale face. L grew
more hclplcssly confused, my tongue
absolutely refused to utter word.
Tell tho shopman how much you
want, and your namc, my good GIRL"
he said in kind and pitying tone.
Then, for the first time, raised my
eyes to his face, feeling had found
friend. Merciful heaven! was dream
ing, or had my lato troubles driven
reason from my brain, and filled it in
stead with wild delusivo fancies.
Surely there stood the original of my
aunt Betsy's portrait, but young and
stalwart as he had been forty years
ago, when it was taken.
In vain tried to speak. 1 could on
shop, with its occupants and its con-
for help, l sank fainting to the ground.
When l next awokc to consciousness,
l was lying on an improviscd bed on
tho old couch in our sitting-room at
home. l moved my head, it felt weak
and sore. Then 1 tried to lift my
hands, but to my surprise was power
less to do so. A woman, plainly dress
ed, with kind mothcrly face, was sit
ting near me, and rose as 1 moved.
l looked around bcwildcrcd.
"Mammar' called feebly.
'Hush, hush, my dear miss" said
the kind-looliing woman soothingly.
'You must not speak; your mamma is
asleep and you might wake her."
So lay still, wondering weakly who
she was, and who had sent her there;
but presently, seeing her stir tho fro
into blaze, l forgot her caution, as all
my old anXiotics came back, and said
pleadingly:
Don't poke the fire, please. 1t will
burn out too quickly, and we have no
moro coalsn
"Oh, now, miss, you have been
dreaming. The cellar is nearly full,
the Goals only came in last week"
Again | essaycd to answer, but was
80 gently, yet with such authority, Or
dcrcd TO be quiet, that I was clad to
obey, SO lay still enjoying tho sensa-
ton OF being able not even to think.
In day or two l grew stronger, and
one morning to my delight my mother
came in, and l had leave given mo to
talk little.
Then heard all about my lato adj
venture.
'It is really most wonderful event,
my dear, and roads like a chapter out
of a three-volumc novel," said nv
mother, who, by the way, looked quito
bright and strong again. "When YOU
fell down in faint, you let fall the en-
Velope in which you had carried tho
miniature, and the gentleman who was
in the shop"
81 remember him, mammal T cried
cxcitcdly, 'ho was the worry image of
tho portrait. fanciod / must be
dreaming"
"That is tho strangcst part of the
story, but you won't let me tell it to
you properly my dear. That gentle
man saw your name and address,
brought you homo in cab, sent in a
nurse, and verything we wanted, and
has been our good angel ever since.
Ho is Arthur Rashleigh, tho only son
OF your aunt Bctsy's old lover, who,
after mourning the supposed faithless-
moss of his old love, married late in life,
and has not long been dead, leaving
Arthur large fortune. His astonish-
ment at sccing you with his fathers
portrait, you may be sure, was very
great. However, it was n very lucky
thing for us; after all, Aunt Betsy's
present was not such q poor one. BY
the way, hero it is; Mr.. Rashlcigh was
kind enough to bring it back with
him."
Thoro was one thing which did not
! appear to concern my mother in the
least. but mado my pale face flame,
and that was the idea of receiving all
those benefits from moro stranger,
upon whom we had not the slightest
claim, unless tho fact that his father,
forty years before, had becn my aunt's
lover, could be considered one.
SO made up an eloquent speech in
which thanked him warmly for all his
goodness, and dcliCatcly vet firmly