The Abilene reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1883-1888, 1885-08-13


actual airs of heaven with il, grows
more and more lovely and beneficent,
and beckons You higher and higher,
and smiles kindlier and kindlier until
in some unguessed-of moment it turns
with a face of hideous crimson and
mocks your folly. This is to be jilted
for money. Your soul rises in despair
and self-disdain, and the goddess of
your worship tells you that the love of
women is a cheat. and heart OF cank-
cred brass poor lads only safeguard
All this was true to Jack Cameron,
because he believed it to be true.
He would not have been the honest
lad he was if many doubts had not
reached his heart. Loyalty finds it
hard to believe in disloyalty. Cassidy
watched MS friend almost with terror,
his quiet seemed so unnatural. and in a
while his fears assumed a shape so
threatening that he stole from the sit
Iing-room and locked up his friends
raZors.
This kind of thing" he said to
himself, gloomily, "has ended that
way before now"
After an hour or two spent in trying
quiet, Jack rose and flied his pipe,
and at this sign Cassidy began to
hustle about the room and to set
glasses and bottle on the table.
TO their father with the lot of
Them" said Cass; dy, suddenly. what
do We want to go getting married for?
We've got each other that's been
chums now for dozen years and
more, and We'll just try to be content
at that, Jack, me boy, and let the bag
cages slide"
"Bill," said Cameron, breaking
silence for the first time since his en-
trance, make me one promise.
Anything in nature" answered
Cassidy.
Never speak about this any more.
Never hint at it.
Il won't, then," said the Irishman,
tenderly. "Have glass of whisky,
Jack. "
No. 1 won't drink now. Good
night"
" Goodnight
The heart broken lover went to his
own room and walked gloomily up
and down all night His companion
sat in the chamber beneath and listened
to his footsteps.
.They'r all alike. said Cassidy to
himself. when was ever unhappy
except when | was danglin' after pet
ticoat? But I'll have to marry now if
| spend the honeymoon in the work
house, and that looks likely. Faith, I'd
rather stop and be companion to the
a. I lot - =
me lad. for I've been through it myself,
so often may be as most men, and can
feel for you"
The watcher in the lower room dozed,
and woke to see the first gray CLEAN of
dawn break. through the crevices of the
window shutters. The step was still
going TO and fro, to and fro overhead.
CASSIDY began to think his friend took
the matter too much at heart, but the
thought of going to bed and making
himself comfortable while his compan-
ion suffered in solitude never occurred
to him; fact from which it may be
argued that friendship was a sentiment
more solid and enduring than love in
his case. He threw open the shutters
noisclessly and let the summer morning
light into the room, and, filling his pipe,
sat down to read, with the mOnotonous
footsteps still going to and fro, to and
fro overhead.
Rowland street, as everybody knows,
is at the same time in the middle of
Prague and near the middle of London.
1t is not an early street, and only the
roll of a cab or q mail cart in the great
near at hand broke on the
silence until long after broad daylight
had settled down upon it. But when
Cassidy had doZed again and again over
his book, the first of the morning cries
sounded on his ear, and after no great
interval the postman's knock came
down the silent street. The watcher
having thrown up the window quietly
to observe the progress of the pOstman
marked the cessation of the footsteps
overhead, and. listening, heard the creak-
ing of the window as it rose in the room
above him.
The poor lad can't believe she's
fooled him yet, said Cassidy, sadly.
The postman' knock sounded at the
front door, and Cameron ran rapidly
and lightly down stairs. He came
back with the false letter the tragedian
had written the night before, and Cas-
sidy intercepted him on the landing.
He had read it already and slipped it
into the Irishman's hands without a
word, and passed upstairs again. The
footsteps were going to and fro once
more rs Cassidy read the wicked lines.
"She's disturbed, is she, poor thing?"
he said. bitterly. That's pity" He
threw the epistle on the table, and went
wandering disconsolately about the
room, but, hearing the landlady astir,
he fled like guilty ghost to his own
chamber By-and-by Cameron ap-
peared before him half-dressed.
Have you seen my razors, Cassidy"
he asked.
IL borrowed them" said Cassidy,
biushing and stammcring. Jack stood
by while he unlocked the drawer in
which he had hidden them.
You old fool" he said, with that
friendly brutality young men use when
they want to hide themselves.
Il was not so certain Of that same,
Numbered Cassidy; but Cameron, re-
turning nc answer. marched off with |
his recovered property. He looked rather |
more stern than miserable, Cassidy |
thought and indeed the young mans |
heart had been oftener filled with rage |
than with any other passion during that
dreadful night, and by this time he had |
hardened into an intense bitter con-
tempt for the girl he had loved so dear
ly. His first cry under the blow had
been repeating itself in his mind all
night: Never believe in honor or hon
esty any more" He told himself how
salutary the lesson was and the first
fruits of Mr.. Montgomery Bassett's plot