Sword and shield., 1885-11-21

gnon the spos where Sic had knelt on the
nreyious night Miles and miles passed be-
fore she removed the s0mbre covering from
her white, worn face. As the train hurrled
ON the wheels within her brain whirled fast
or and faster. the rushing sound grew strong
or and the fierce red light shone redder,
tiercer and nearer.
Save for such Inquiries as the exigency OF
the journey forced her to make, ana sucI
speech as was necessary to procure the lOou
and drink which nature absolutely demand
ed. the woman spoke no word during tla!
long Journey back. Except that now ana
ogain she messed them to her brow, III a VAN
nndeayor to stop the wheels which whirled
in her brain. her thin hands were for even
cIaenad heneath her dark shawl. She sat
and stared into vacancy. How could she
close her eyes, when doing SO at once brought
the red light before thems
Far all she knew that journey might have
lasted months or years. Periods OF time
meant nothing to her now. Eternity, no'
Time, lay before her.
The long journey by land, the shorter jour
ney BY sea, passed like protracted yet IN
coherent dream. All she knew or cared to
know was that she was speeding on to Lon
don. AT last the sound of English voices,
the sight of English faces, told her that she
had reached the last stage of her journey.
Then she reused herself and made her final
preparations.
She searched her pocket, and tore into
small bits every piece of paper it contained,
SO that no written word could be left to give
clue to her identity. Last of all she drew
from an envelope a photograph of Beatrice.
81 Ioff ON nnGSlHnqfplV
then with deep sigh tore it across and
across. and threw the pieces to the winds.
le dared not even keep this poor relic OF
her darling.
London at lastI Sarah Miller stepped
from t.. train, and once more stood on the
platform which she had quilted rather more
than three days before. 1t was now past
three o'clock in the morning. Whittier
should she turn. She stood heSitating and
bewldcred.
There was one thing more which she had
settled to do. What was it, Oh those wheels,
those wheels, will they never stop! She
pressed her fingers to her temples, and strove
to recall what resolution had slipped from
her mind
All. now she remembered what it was.
Her money, she must get rid of that. She
had no further need of money now that she
had reached the final goal. In her pocket
were both German and English coins. She
collected them and creeping stealthily to the
box which stands awaiting contributions for
some. doubtless, very deserving charity, she
dropped in every coin that was upon her per-
SON. This done, she believed there was moth
ing left which could in any way show who
she was or whence she came.
She passed out under the archway. sOli-
tary, dark-rObed figure With head bent as
in grief. She passed from the CHASTITY white
glare of electric lamps into the all but desert
eel Strand. She walked some way up Il0
Strand, then, without any definite aim, TURN
ed to the right and by and by found herSelf
o the embankment.
Still she wandered on until she reached
Waterloo Bridge. She went halfway across
it, then stopped short and gazed over the
paranet into the river But no Thought OF
seif-destructi0n had entered into her head,
although the red light was still before her
eyes. the wild rush still sounding in her ears,
and those fearful iron wheels in her brain
crcling more rapidly than ever. No, the
river had but for her the attraction which
mOOth, calm, peaceful stream has Tor all VINO
are in deep distress. So she looked and look
ed; even cTaned over the parapet to peer INTO
its SOmbre placid depths.
At that moment binding light flashed up
on her eyes and hand gTasped her shoulder.
Now none of that nonsense" said sharp
vOice-the voice of policeman who had
seen her dark form against the StOnew0rk OF
the bridge. The woman turned her face to
his, and the anguish written upon it persuade
ed the constable that he had arrived just in
the neck of time.
''River air IS bad at night for such as yOu,"
he said in kinder voice. 'NOw you go
straight home like good woman. I'll see
you safe off the bridge. You can go from
which end you like, but if you stay here any
longer, we'll must run you i'll"
She clasped her hands. Il am mad !, she
you see | am mad Take me and put me
where mad people are sent to-"
Strange as a confession of insanity seemed,
the puzzled policeman was bound to take her
at her word, the more SO because she would
not or could not give any account of herself,
or name any place of residence. SO she was
led away a dOciIe captive, and spent the rest
of the night, or rather morning, under deten-
ton.
Mad or not she believed her work was now
done; believed that she would be bestowed
where her mistress would never find her, neV-
er hear of her. Mad or not her one cOncen-
tTated aim was to keep the secret of the way
in which Maurice Hervey died. IT mad, the
poor wretch's cunning had all but supplied
the place of reason.
ALI but, for as usual it had forgotten one
important thing. Unless Beatrice was in-
formed of her husbands death, unless that
death were proved beyond doubt, Sarah
Miller's crime would be useless and her Sacri-
hce futile.