Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1885-03-06
DARK DAYS
BY HUGH CONW AY.
+ Continued from last qceek.
Author of SCALED Back.

nothing but lie awake and picture that
white tomb slowly melting away, until the
white face beneath peered out of it and
made the dread secret known to ALL Who
would be the first to discover it? Doubt
less some country man or woman passing
that way in the gray of the morning.
drew pictures of the discoveries horror-the
shrek of terror he or she would give.
scarcely dared to close my eyes; for | knew
that If dreamed my dreams would take
me to stand over the snowdrift, and force
me to watch it melting away! 1t seemed to
me that until Philippa was out of the range
of pursuit l should not sleep again
Faster and faster, now it ha once begun,
the thaw went on. Warm wind. heavy rain
the next day. helped it. That tremendous
fall of snow had indeed, been the last effort
of the winter. l dreaded what 1 might see
in the mornings papers
For it was the third day from that on
which spoke about going abroad; yet we
were still in London When it really came
to making preparations for the projected
trip there were thousand and one things
to be done. There was the needn't passport
to be obtained; my mother had many pur-
chases to make for both Philippa and her.
self She was now fully contenbed with the
prospect of long sojcurn on the continent;
but she i.!;el travelling in conf ort, and OBJ
ected very much to being hurried. SO 1t
vas that in spite of the pressing need for
immediate flight, we were still in London.
The dangerous delay made me nervous
axcitable and ill-temperel. This state of
mind was not without benefit to our caIlse,
as my manner as well as my looks fully con-
WINGED my mother that my own health was
the sole object of the journey. &c. like a
good creature. she set to work in thorough
earnest to get everything ready for our de-
parture.
Tomorrow morning we were to start.
prayed Heaven that it might not be too
late; that the next twenty-four hours might
pass without what 1 dreaded taking place.
For knew that by now that CHASTITY object
on the roadside must be lying with the light
of day on its pale face!
With an effort opened the mornings pa
per, and ran hastily up and down the col
umns. What cared | for politics. foreign
'ews, or money-market intelligence? Here
was the one paragraph which riveted all my
attention The white tomb had given up
its secret! Readl To me those words were
written in letters of fire!
"HoRRIRLE DISCOVERY NEAR RoDING.-
The melting of the snow has brought to light
NudU W oil appear dl1CGS Is d IedIIul ClllIle
Yesterday afternoon laborer walking on
the highway discovered the body of a gem
tleman lying by the roadside. His death
had been caused by pistol shot. 1t is sup
posed that it must have occurred on the
night of the great snow storm, and that the
body has lain ever since under the snow.
which had drifted to the depth of some feet
|, The facts that death must have been instan-
taneous, and that no weapon can be found
near the spot, do away with the theory of
suicide. Letters and papers found uIon the
corpse tend to show it to be that of Sir Mer-
vyn Ferrand, Bart. The unfortunate gen.
tleman's friends have been communicated
| with, and the inquest will be opened to-
morrow"
For some minutes sat like one stunned.
Inevitable as it was that the discovery
should be made, the shock seemed scarcely
lightened by the forekno Wedge: the danger
seemed no less terrible. Oh, that we had
started yesterday-were even to start to-
| dayl What might not happen before to-
morrow morning! My first impulse was to
go to my mother and beg her to hasten our
| departure; but reflection showed me how
unwise this course would be. l should alarm
her-alarm Philippa! l could give no rea-
son. My one longing was to keep the news
from my poor love. Let her read that para
graph, and who could answer for the conse
quences? Looking as a medical man at her
case, knew that there was something about
that night which troubled her; some dream,
| or semblance of dream, to which, fortu
| nately, she could as yet give no Conference.
| Let her learn that Sir Mervyn Ferrand had
| ever since that night been lying dead where
she met him, the fearful truth must com,
To boY MOI of IN
picion. My task was a twofold one. l hal
to save her not only from what suppose l
must call justice, but also from herself. 1t
| seemed to me that tine latter was the hard
| est part of my work; but l would do it
swore would do it. l would keep watch
| and ward, to see that nothing reached her
| that she heard nothing which could awaken
memories OF those mercifully absent hours.
| tore the paper to pieces and burned it. l
| think of all my dark days that one was the
one would be least willing to pass again.
| trembled at every footstep on the stairs
| Any man who paused for moment outside
our windows sent cold chill over me. And
| in the midst of my misery l had to wear a
cheerful face, and talk to Phillppa and my
mother about the pleasures Of our PROJECTED
| journey! All! if we only reached the end Of
| it in safety the pleasure would not be alto
| gether imaginary.
Once again l say, if you cannot feel with
me, throw my tale aside. Heaven knows it
| is a sombre one! I was breaking the law;
| concealing what the law calls a crime; do
| ing all could to save the criminal But the
criminal was Philippe, and loved her! I
| myself would have stood face to face with
Sir Mervyn Ferrand, and have freely given
| my own life if | could have assured his dy-
ing like the dog he was. Why then should 1
| blame Philippe. who had done in her tenn
| porary madness what l would have done in
| cold blood? Yet why trouble to extenuates
l loved her! Those words sum up every
| thing.
| The morning dawned. No fatal messeny ger
| had arrived. l glanced hastily at the papers.
which, however, contained no more infor-
| nation about the tragedy. Shortly after
| ten o'clock we started to drive to Charing
| Cross. The rattle of wheels over the stones
seemed to send fresh life through my veins
We were ON the road to safety.
INHl