The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1885-03-04

me and said. "Basil, did :ou ever hate
i man." No, she could not love himl
These thoughts brought my crav-
ing for vengeance back to my mind.
| Where was Ferrand? BY all my cal
| culations, taking into account the
time wasted in starting, l should by
| now have met him. Perhaps he had
not come, after all. Perhaps the look
Of the weather had frightened him,
and he had decided to stay at Rolling
for the night. l ragged at the thought
If only l knew that Philippa was safe
" housed, nothing. in my present
| frame of mind, would have suited me
| better than to have net him on this
lonely road, in the midst of this wild
storm. II Philippa were only safe!
Still no sign of her. I began to
wayer in my mind. What if my first
%suppositicn, that l had passed her on
the road, was correct? She might be
now at my cottage, wondering what
had become of Inc. Should l go fur
Their or turn back? But what
would he my feelings if l did the
latter, and found when l arrived home
that she had not made her appear
ance?
l halted, irresolute, in the center OF
the road. Instinctively I beat my
hands together to promote circulation.
1 had left my home hurriedly, and had
made no provision for the undergoing
of such an ordeal as this terrible, un-
%precedented snowstorm inflicted. In
spite of the speed at which I had
travelled, my hands and feet were
growing numbed. my face smarted
with the cold. Heaven help me to de-
eide Alright, whether to 60 On or turn
back !
The decision was not left to me.
Suddenly, close at hand, I head a wild
peal, a scream of laughter which
made my blood run cold. Swift
from the whirling, tossing, drifting
snow emerged a tall gray figure. 1t
swept past Inc like the wind; but as it
passed me l knew that my quest was
ended--that Philippa was found!
She vanished in a second. before the
terror which rooted me to the spot had
passed away. Then I turned and, fast
as 1 could run, followed her, crying as
I went, "Philippa! Philippa!'
1 o overlook her; but so dark
was the night tnat I was almost touch
ing her before l saw her shadowy,
ghost-like form. l threw my arms
round her and held her. She strug-
gled violently in my grasp.
"Philippa, dearesti it is I, BASIL
said, bending close to her ear.
The sound of my voice seemed to
calm her, or 1 should rather say she
ceased to struggle.
Thank heaven, I have found you'll"
I said. LET us get back as soon as
possible"
"Back! No! Go on, 60 on!" she
exclaimed. "On, on, on. up the road
vet awhile--on through the storm,
through the snow--on till you see what
l have left behind me! On till you see
the wages of sin--the wages Of sin!"
Her words came like bullets from a
mitrailleuse. Through the night I
could See her face cleaning whittier
than the snow on her hcol. 1 could
see her great, fixed, dark eyes full Of
nameless horror.
dearest, be calm," I said, and strove
to take her h"nds in mine.
tc trial f,N npin nnSClCclnn 0f her
right hand something fell from it, and,
although the road was now coated
with snow, a metallic sound rang out
rs it touched the ground. Mechani-
cally l stopped and picked up the fallen
object.
AS I did so Philippa with a wild cry
wrested herself from the n hand
whose numbed grasp still sought to
retain her, and with 4 frenzied reiter-
alton of the words, ''The wages of
sinr' fed from Inc. and was lost in the
night.
Even rs I rushed in pursuit l shud-
dered as the sense Of feeling told me
what thing it was l had picked up
from the snowy ground. 1t was a
small pistol! Cold rs the touch of the
metal must have been, it seemed to
burn me like a coal of fire. 1mpul-
sively, thoughtlessly, as | ran l hurled
the weapon from me, far, far away.
Why should it have been in Philippa's
hand this night?
I ran madly on, but not
for long. My foot caught in
a stone, and I fell, half stunned
and quite b%reathless, to the
ground. [ was some minutes before l
recovered myself sufficiently to once
more stand erect. Philippe must have
obtained a start which, coupled with
her frenzied speed, almost precluded
the possibility of my overtaking her.
Moreover, 4 strange, uncomfortable
impulse swayed me. The touch of
that deadly weapon still burned my
hand. Philippa's words still rang in
my ears. ''On. on, IN. up the road yet
awhile" she had cried. What did she
mean? What had been done tonight?
l must retrace my steps. I must
see! l must know! Philippa is flying
through the cold, dark, deadly night;
but her frame is but the frame of a
woman. She must soon grow ex-
hausted, perhaps sink senseless Of the
road. Nevertheless, the dreadful
fears which are growing in my mind
must be set at rest; then ! a resume
the pursuit. At all cost 1 must know
what has happened.
Once moro 1 turned and faced the
storm. Heavens! any thing might
happen on such a night as this! I
went on and on, flashing my lantern as
l went on the centre and each side Of
the road. went some distance past
that spot where l judged that Philippa
had swept by me. Then suddenly,
with a cry of horror, l stopped short.
at my very feet, in the middle of the
highway. illumined by the disk of
light cast by my lantern, lay a
whitened mass, and as my eye fell
upon it J knew only too well the
meaning of. Philippa's wild exclama-
ton. 1.-THE wages of sin! The wages
Of sin"