Weekly commercial herald. (Vicksburg, Miss.) 1884-18??, 1885-09-04
CHAPTER VI
THE SECRET KEPT.

THE SECRET KEPT.
It Is needless to say that when I awoke the
next morning my first thought was OF Phil
ippa; but my first action was to go to nv
window and look at the skies. NY heart
sank within me as l saw that the snow had
ceased falling, and the wintry sun was shin.
ing. l threw up the sash; the cold air cut
me like a knife. gathered up a handful Of
snow from the window-silL It crumbled in
my fingers like tOoth-oowder. I guessed at
once that a hard black frost had succeeded
the snow, ran down stairs and glanced ut
my thermometer outside my sitting room
window. It registered twelve degrees of
frost Ny spirits rose; I felt that Philippa
would be saved. The wind was due east;
so long as 1t stayed there the frost would
last, and that white tomb on the roadside
hide the secret Of the dreadful night.
found, moreover, that Philippa's condi-
ton was all that could, under the circum.
stances, be hoped for. Since she had awak-
ened from that long sleep into which the
opiate had plunged her, there had been no
recurrence Of the decisions; no symptoms
which gave me any alarm. She was, OF
course, weak in body, but quite quiet and
collected. She spoke but little, and the few
words which she did speak had no bearing
on forbidden or disturbing subjects.
Day after day went by, and still the brave
black frost held the world in its iron grip,
and kept the secret of the night. Morning
after morning l woke to fiud the wind still
blowing from the east, the skies clear and
showing every evidence of a long spell of
hard weather. A presentiment that We
should be saved was now firmly established
in my mind. The heavens themselves seemed
to be shielding us and working for us.
have not given the year in which these
things occurred; but many who can remem-
Der that mighty fall Of snow, and the time
which the frost kept it on the earth, will be
able to fix the date. Since that year there
has been no weather like it.
Day by day Philippa grew better and
stronger. Ispare you, as l promised to, all
description which is not absolutely necessary
of my treatment of my patient, and all
technical summary of the case; but before
many days had gone by 1 knew that, as 1
hoped, 1 had to deal with ons of those rare
instances in which the balance Of the mind
is restored by forced sleep, and the COM
plete restoration Of health is but q matter
Of time and care.
As soon as it became a certainty that all
danger to life or reason was at an end /
began to consider what course to adopt.
The moment she was we'll enough to risk
the journey, or even, il thaw set in, before
then, Philippa must fly from the scene of
the tragedy in which she had played so ter.
rible, yet morally irresponsible, a part. We
must put land and seas between oursel yes
and the fatal spot. But how to persuade
her that such a flight was absolutely neces.
sary9 Brother and sister as we now termed
ourselves, would she ever consent to accom-
pany me abroadG Had l the right to put the
woman Iloved in such an quivocal position
MOI q thousand times mol And yet l knew
there was no safety for her in England; and
with whom could she leave England save
with mes
dared not urge upon her my true reason
for fight. 1t was my greatest hope that the
events Of that night had left her mind when
! the madness left her, never to be recalled.
And now time was pressing; ten days had
passed by. I'll glorious frost still kept our
counsel, but it could not last forever. The
time must come when the white heaps of
, snow would melt and vanish away, and then
Sir Mervyn Ferrand's cold dead face would
appear, and tell the tale Of his death to the
FIRST passer by.
had scarcely quilted the house since that
night. Yet one day a kind Of morbid fas-
c%ination had led me to walk along Gns road
; toward Roding, and to halt at what !
! judged to be the spot where l laid the dead
man by the side of the road. l fancied
could single out the very drift under which
that awful thing lay, and a dreary tempts-
ton to probe the white heap with my stick,
and make sure, assailed me. l resisted it,
and turned away from the spot,
There was a certain amount of traffic on
the road. By now the snow had been
beaten down by cart wheels and peoples
feet, so that it was quite possible to walk
from one place to another. As l reached
the house from which Philippa fed to seek
, refuge with me, l encountered Mrs. Wilson.
l was going to pass without any sign Of
, recognition, but she stopped me-.
81 thought you were going to take your
sister awayr she said.
"Lady Ferrand was unfortunately taken
very i'll when she left you. She is now hard.
ly well enough to be removed"
"Has she heard from Sir Mervyngn asked
Mrs. Wilson, abruptly.
mot to my knowledge" l replied.
at Is strange. You know, l suppose, that
he was expected at my house that nightr'
Certainly l do. 1t was for that reason
my sister left you"
Mrs. Wilson looked at me thoughtfully.
''She will not meet him againF'
"Never," said, thinking as spoke that
my words bore a meaning only known to
myself.
sA'Does she hate himT' she asked. sud.
denly.
''she has been cruelty wronged," 1 SAID,
evasively.
She laid her hand on my arm. aListen, !"
she said. IF thought she hated him l
would see her before she leaves, and tell her
something. II thought he hated her
would tell him will wait and see."
She turned away and walked on, leaving me
to make the best Of her enigmatical words.
She IVA evidently a strange woman, and |
felt more sure than ever was in some way
mixed up with Sir Mervyn Ferrand's early
life had q great mind to follow her and