Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1885-06-12

.x,,, now the case was d1f1erent. file nau not
70 daa1 with victim without friends, man
whose body. described as that OF snip
wrecked mariner could be buried ana LOT
ootten without more ado In all prooaoiiitY
there would this time be hue and cry, anu
William Jones trembled lest his share Ill the
chastity business might ultimately be dlscoV-
lred.
True, he was not actually the culp1it, and
~, even at the worst, he might escape the
gallows; but to a man of his sensitive and af-
fectionate nature the thought of Transports
ton was not pleasant. 1t was this that made
him nervous-this that made him start and
tremble at every sound.
Presently thought struck him.
ssWhere's Matt?n he asked
ssDon't know, William dear; she amt been
here for hours and hours. Maybe she's on
the shore" --s-s- s..r
"Maybe she is-rn go and have look"
returned William.
It must not be supposed for moment that
William Jones had become afflicted with q
sudden and tender interest in Matt-he
merely wanted to get quit of the cabin, that
was all, and he saw in this O. reasonable ex-
cuse for walking out alone. He accordingly
made his escape, and went wandering off
along the shore.
It was ten o'clock when he returned; he
was still pale, and drenched to the skin. The
old man was doing beside the fire, and alone.
ssWhere's Mattg' asked William again.
"Ain't YOU seen her, William dear: Well,
she amt here"
William Jones did look little uneasy this
time, and it is but due to him to confess that
his uneasiness was caused by MATHS prolonged
absence. Erratic as she was in her move
ments, she had not been accustomed to stay
ing out SO late, especially on night when the
rain was pouring and not glimmer of star
or moon was to be seen.
ssWonder what she's a-doin' OFF said Viii
liam; Suppose I'd best waitup for her. Here,
old man. YOU go to bed, dye hear-yo1s amt
wanted anyhow"
The old man accordingly went to bed, and
William sat up to await MATHS return. He
sat beside the hearth, looked into the smolder-
ing fire, and listened to the rain as it poured
down steadily upon the roof. Occasionally
he cot I'D and went to the door; he could see
nothing, but he heard the patter of the falling
rain and the low, dreary moan of the troubled
sea. .B-1
Hour after hour passed, and Matt did not
come. William Jones began to doze by the
fire-then he sank into heavy Sleep
He awoke with start, and found that it
was broad daylight. The fire was out, the
rain had ceased to fall, and the morning sun
was creeping in at the windows. He looked
around, and saw that he was still alone. He
went into MATHS room-it was empty. She
had not returned.
He was now filled with a vague uneasiness.
He made up bit of fire, and was about to
issue forth again in search of the truant when
all further trouble was saved him-the door
opened, and Matt herself appeared.
She seemed almost as much disturbed as
William Jones himself. Her face was very
pale her hair wild, her dress in great dis
order She started on seeing him; then, as
Stunning a rather devil-may care look, she
lounged in. .s.7.
'sYou're up early, William Jones, she said
eyes, am up early, he replied, gruffly;
"'cause why?-'cause I amt been to bed.
And where have yoas been-jest you tell me
that -...
ssWhy, I've been out, of course!'' returned
the girl, defantly.
''That won't do, Matt" returned William
Jones. sCome, you'll jest tell me where
you've been. You amt been out all night for
nothing"
The girl gave him a look half of defiance,
half of curiosity; then she threw herself down,
rather than sat, upon a chair.
''rm tired, I am she said, sand hungry
and cold!"
"Willyou tell me where you've been, Matt?'
cried William Jones, trembling with suspi-
cious alarm.
"'Course will, if you keep quiet" said
the girl in answer. ''There amt much to
tell, neither. Iwere away along to Pencroes
when the heavy rain came on; then lay
down behind a haystack and fell asleep, and
when woke up it was daylight, and come
home"
William Jones looked at her steadfastly and
long; then, as if satisfied, he turned away.
About an hour later he left the hut and
walked along the shore, straining his eyes
seward. But instead of looking steadfastly
at one spot as his custom was, he paused now
anS sgain to gaze uneasily about him. At
ev1 aepund he started and turned pale. In
H-.th, he was becoming veritable coward
afraid almost of the sound Of his own foot
steps on the sands.