The clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1883-1888, 1886-09-08
CHAPTER Xxx.

1 them gazing after me still.
CHAPTER Xxx.
IN LONDON.
On reaching London. / secured a room in
! a small coffee-house in Soho; and, having
| deposited my luggage, | started off at once
to the offices of the mining company. 1t was
| three O'clock, and l counted 1 might Just
arrive before they closed.
/ was astonished, on arriving at my desti
| nation, to find that the offices consisted
| only of a couple of grimy rooms in side
street off Chancery Lane. l was received by
| dilapidated and somewhat dirty old clerk,
| who was crouched upon a high stool and
| scribbling away at desk. He informed me
that the head of the firm was at that moment
| in his room. 1 was taken to him, and made
| haste to state my case.
/ soon found that my presence there was
comparatively useless. Like master, like
man, they say, and certainly George Red
ruth, in forming a company TO conduct the
| mine, had been careful to select men whose
views accorded with his own; besides, my
character had preceded me; they had beer
| forewarned of my visit, and 10 all my com
| plants they had nothing to say.
| Sick at heart l left the place, and walked
| slowly back toward Charing Cross. What
my next move would be | did not know. i
was certain could do nothing for the Corn
| ish miners; and since they could not starve,
| they must be left to trudge on with that grim
skeleton, Death, forever by their sdel
Pondering thus, l made my way slowly
along the crowded streets, gazing distracted
/ " at the sea of faces surrounding me. Ii
was Saturday afternoon, and the Strand was
| thronged. The hum of the busy crowd dis
| tracted me. l turned intending to pass down
/ one of the side streets and gain the Embank-
ment when suddenly l stepped face to face
! with woman who was coming toward me,
| and uttered a cry.
1t was my cousin Anniei
But so changed was she that scarcely
| knew her She was dressed as lady, and
| looked like one; but her face was pale, her
| eyes looked troubled and sad. She must
| have been walking quickly, for as / turned
| TO face her she almost fell into my arms.
The cry gave attracted her; she looked
| into my face, and knew me.
She paused, uncertain what to do. My
sudden appearance there, of ali places on the
| earth, was so unexpected, that it completely
| unnerved her. For moment she seemed
about to fly; then, conquering herself, she
stood her ground
''Hughr' she exclaimed. You herer'
''YesE' answered, sternly enough. Il
/ am herer'
felt no joy in meeting her. Had she come
| to me poor. deSpised, with the faint of sin
| upon her, l should have taken her in my
arms, and said, You poor repentant child
| come homes" but when she stood before me
| in her fine raiment my heart hardened; fol
! l thought of the heart broken old people
whom she had left.
NY appearance must have been strange
| for | began to attract some attention, when
Annie took me by the arm and led me dowI
| the side street had intended to take. W.
| passed on. never uttering a word, until we
came to the Embankment Then she let &c
my arm and spoke.
/ s'Hugh!;' she said. t'did you come to Lon
don to look for me?''
mo. 1 came ON other business, but
promised to seek you and take you back
She was still white as death and trembling
violently. As [ uttered these words, she
shook her head, and her eyes filled with
tears.
Il cannot go home, Hugh; not yet" she
said. sadly.
Not yet?" l repeated. 'Will it ever bt
better for you than it is now?''
Yes, Hugh; and soon, l hope, shall be
able to go and cause them no troube.'
l shrugged my shoulders and half turned
away, when she laid her hand upon my arm
again and said:
''Hugh, dear Hugh you have never onc'
taken my hand; you have not looked at ms
as you would have done some months ago
You think l have brought shame upon yoI
all; but, indeed, it is not so bad as that an
lawful wife,
"a lawful wife? Whose wifeg'
IA or 81 hot I fal
you. But am wife; and some day, very
soon, shall be acknowledged. Hugh, vii
you not take my hand, and say that you for
give me?"
Il have nothing to forgive" | replied
You did me no wrong; but you ruined the
happiness of your home, and you have brok
en- your fathers heart"
Hugh -
sit is as well for you to hear it, Annie"
continued. when your flight was discov
cred your father bore it bravely we thought
but it seems he hid the worst of his troubl
from us, and pined in secret 1t has bee
like canker-worm gnawing at his heart
and now he is weak and feeble like weary
worn old manp'
ceased, for Annie had turned away an
was crying piteously. | went to her ant
took her hand.
man who has been the author of all thi
trouble, and will ask no more"
She shook her head
II cannot tell you, Hugh. Why shoul
you wish to know? j tell you am his wife.
IF you are his wife. where is the need O
all this secrecy?''
There are reasons why he cannot acknow
edge me just now: therefore, / have made
solemn vow never to tell his name until
gives me permission. Is it not enough fo
| you to know that have not disgraced yoU
and that am happy2'
She certainly did not look happy He
pale, panied face, which was turned to mine
seemed to give the lie to every word sh
spoke.
"Wiil you tell them at home,'F she sait
..that you found me WELL ard that they mu:
not grieye; because some day soon l sha
come back to themg'
|, Where are you living nowg' / asked.
"Close by here" she replied, quickly.
. was on my way home when met you. Wi
you come with me, Hugh? l will show yc
the rooms"
/ assented; and she led the way back
! | ward the Strand She walked quickly, ar
q paused before house in Craven Street E
tering with a latch-key which she carrie
K she passed up a fight of stairs. and enters
q room
d This is where live, Hugh she said.
1t was change indeed from the Cornii
: kitchen in which she had lived all her lif
t The room was one which / could imagil
Madeline occupying. but which was sing
o iarly out of place when coupled with Ami
!. Having looked about me, / prepared
leave.
d. Where are you going, Hughr' she aske
e aHome?'
+ II don't know I answered
70 aShalI see you again.
Ie THAT don't know Since you say "
{. are well cared for and happy, where is t
Il use IN troubling you? Some day, perhaI
o when your sun begins to set you'll find 20
a way back to those who loved you long Q
e fore this villain crossed your path r
I opened the door. stepped across I
d threshold, and-faced two strange men
\ A hand was laid upon my shoulder, and
Al voice said:
: stop. young mani We want you
murderF'
sfi CHATTER XXI.
u THE INQUEST.
For Murder? The very word paralyz
pe me; and looked at the man In utter CO
stenation-
at sWhat do you meany ] cried, recoillr
&c "Who are your