Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1885-09-05

risd-ae wasted no time on the road, but
was delayed for two days at the place itself
before ne could make final arrangement
with tie owner and the present occupier OF
the house. Thinking ne was going to start
every moment, he did not write to Madeline
At the rate at which be meant to return, q
letter posted in England would reach her
almost as quickly as if posted at Cannes
He reached his home, which for tho last
few weeks had been Oxford, and found two
letters waiting for him. The first, dated on
the day he left England, was from Madeline
It told him that her aunt's illness had sud
denly taken a fatal turn-that she had died
that day. almost without warning. Ihe
second letter was anonymous.
1t was written apparently by a woman.
and advised Mr.. Carr to look sharply after
his lady love. or he would find himself left
in the lurch. The writer would not be sur
prised to hear some fine day that she lad
sloped with a certain gentleman who should
be nameless. This precious epistle, probably
an emanation of feminine spite, Carriston
treated it as it deServed-he tore it up and
threw the pieces to the wind.
But the thought of Madeline being alone
ct that lonely house troubled him greatly.
all the anxiety and responsibility connected
with her affairs would fall on the poor girl.
The next day be threw himself into the
Scotch express and started for her far-away
home
On arriving there he found it occupied
only BY the rough farm servants. They
seemed in Q state OF wondsrment and vol
ubly questioned Carriston as to the where
abouts of Madeline The question sent q
chill of fear to his heart. He answered their
questions by Others and soon learned all
they had to communicate.
Little enough it was. On the morning
after the old womans funeral Madeline had
gone to Calendar to ask the advice Of an
old friend of her aunt, as to what steps
should now be taken. She had neither been
to this friend, nor had she returned home.
She had, however, sent message that she
must 60 to London at once, and would write
from there. That was the last heard Of her
all that was known about her.
Upon hearing this news Carriston became
o prey to the acutest terror-an emotion
which was quite inexplicable to the honest
people, his informants. The girl had gone,
but she had sent word whittier she had gone.
True, they did not know the reason for her
departure, so sudden and without luggage
ten as promised, but no doubt they would
hear from her tomorrow. Carriston knew
better. Without revealing tie extent of
his fears he few back to Calendar In
auiries at the railway station informed him
that she had gone, or had purposei going,
to London, but whether she ever reached it,
or whether any trace Of her could be found
there was at least matter of doubt. Nc
good could be gained by remaining in Scot
land, 80 he Travelled back at once to town,
half distracted, sleepless and racking his
brains to know where to look for her.
''She has been decoyed away" he said TN
conclusion. "She is hidden, imprisoned
somewhere. And know, as well as if he
told me, who has done this thing. l can
trace Ralph Carriston's cursed hand through
it all"
glanced at him askance This morbid
suspicion of his cousin amounted almost to
monomania He had told the tale of Made
lines disappearance clearly and tersely; but
when he began to account for it, his theory
was wild and untenable one However
much he suspected Ralph Carriston of long
ing to stand in his shoes, could sea no OBJ
ject tor the crime OF which he accused him
that of decoying away Madeline Rowan.
But why should he have done thisr'
asked. ITO prevent your marriagas You
are young; he must have foreseen that you
would marry some day."
Carriston leaned toward me- and dropped
his voice to a whisper.
'.This is his reason" he said-''this is why
come to you. You are not the only one
who has entirely misread my nature, and
seen strong tendency to insanity in it. OF
course know that you are ali wrong but l
know that Ralph Carriston has stolen my
love-stolen her because he thinks and hopes
that her loss will drive me mad-perhaps
drive me to kill myself l went straight to
him--I have just come from him. Brand,
tell you that when l taxed him with the
crime-when l raved at him-when threat
ened to tear the life out of hin--his cold
wicked eyes leapt with joy. l heard him
mutter between his teeth, Men have been
put in strait waistcoats for less than this
Then knew why he had done this curbed
myself and left him. Most likely he
will try to shut me up as a lunatic; but l
count on your protection-count on your
help to fini nv love"
That any man could be guilty of such
subtle refinem mt of crime as that of which
he accused his cousin, seemed to me, if not
impossible, at least improbable But as at
present there was no doubt about my friends
sanity, promised my aid readily.
"And now" said, my dear boy, won't
hear another word tonight. Nothing can
be done until to morrow; then we will con-
suit as to what steps should be taken Drink
this and go to bed--yes, you are as sane as |
am. but remember insomnia soon drives the
strongest man out of his senses
l poured out an opiate. He drank it
obedlently. Before I left him for the night
l saw him in bed and sleeping heavy sleep.
CHAPTER VI
The ADVANTAGE to one who writes not =