St. Landry democrat. (Opelousas, La.) 1878-1894, 1885-01-31
fingers, upon my honor I can't rs

~ GU can't remember said Agatha,
with slow scorn. ''Why, John she
roared! Cook heard in the kitchen.
She came rushing up, and found the
cradle empty and baby gone. She
thought you had taken her into the
study; she told me so; but oh, John, it
was somebody else, and they have stolen
her.
my DEAR" he said, shaking himself
together, and speaking more lightly,
''who would steal her?-a baby roaring,
as you say!" He shuddered .'Why,
surely no one in his senses would do
such thingp'
"Emmy's baby!" cried Agatha, tear
fully, land that is how you speak Of
her! 0 John, dear John, think again:
didn' you hear her? Perhaps you have
forgotten-perhaps you have put her
somewhere, and she has gone to sleep.
Sit down, John, and think-perhaps you
have put her somewhere and forgot
ten.n
Mr.. Nicholson sat down on the win
dow sill and covered his face with his
hands. He tried to think, but when
ever he concentrated his mind on the
baby he was dimly conscious of that
fading fancy that he could not grasp
that dream of cry. 1t had dis
turbed him, he remembered. that loud,
painful, Earring cry, but it had died
away; surely it had died into peace
without his interference? agatha, -" he
said, lifting up his face, sharpened with
the effect Of thought, II do remember
something somebody crying; it must
have been the babe.
eyes," said Agatha, eagerly, ego on!
You heard her! That is right. Cook says
you must have heard her, she roared so.
Well. and then? You -
ST can't remember, Agatha I
may have gone on writing; that seems
the most likely, think; butt may have
gone to the door. "No." shaking his
head. 81 can't get beyond the cry. |
do remember that now distinctly"
perhaps, said Agatha, hopefully,
through her tears, you have put her
somewhere in the library. What have
you been doing or using this after
/ noon?"
Mr.. Nicholson followed humbly as
the great curtains, so that the light
rushed in on to his table streWed with
plans and manuscript. Even then he
spread out his hands, almost uncon-
sciously, to defend his precious papers
from her light scornful touch; but she
stood in the center of the room, looking
into every corner with her quick, soft
eyes.
''What have you used, John-this
chair? You have not been to the cup
board? No. peeping into a dark re-
cess, musty with papers. "What
else?"
Nothing else, Agatha, here, ex-
cept, with a quick smile, 'the waste
paper basket, and that is empty. You
can see for yourself. "
'sAh, said Agatha, there IL cook" as
heavy breathing became audible in
the passage. Cook" her voice trem-
bling at sight of the sympathetic face,
''your master has not seen the baby-at
/ least, he thinks not. He was very
busy, but he heard her cry, and he may
have taken her up and forgotten. We
are looking for her.
(Which you won't never find her,
Them said cook, in broken voice.
I'm my last place but one, where | was
general cleaner in Mrs. AIS family,
there was child disappeared, as it
might be this, and it was never found
i -gypsies or not, it was never come
across again.
..Oh don't, cook!'' cried Agatha,
pIaintively. ''And Emmy coming this
d evening! Your master thinks he may
have put her somewhere and forgotten.
4 10 1.oTro M, Io1s- hooT-iuor hnr II
(Which he might said cook, mot
being deaf. Which I don't mean no
A disrespect, sir, but she was roaring aW-
4 full, and I says to Mary, says /:
+ .Master'll never know ow to quiet that
child, so I'll run up and bring her down
bit;' and / stops to change my apron,
and / ups, as it might be here, and the
cradle, as it might be there, and no
sound, and the cradle as empty as it is
this minute
. Cook turned dramatically and pointed
one stout arm to the little cradle IN the
sunlight Mrs. Nicholson's fearful eyes
i followed the hand, and her husband
stood uneasily in the center of the
group, with an anxious frown upon his
face.
(Which" added cook, scornfully. q
think bahy-and such a one, bless
her!-is of more vally than all this rub
bish!' She waved her hand over the
table, on which lay the neat manuscript
and the rows of mended pens, and Mr..
Nicholson moved instinctively a step
backward, as if she had an evil eye and
his writings would shrivel up at her
scornful gesture.
Cook said Mrs. Nicholson, with
dignity, marred little by the culver
I in her voice, '.you don't understand.
u -za..rz olorro,. n.ad biz