Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1886-04-29
gu @riginal Stprg.
Written for the Yorkyille Enquirer.
AMOS BARTON
BY l.. d. OZMOND.
CHAPTER TX.

recorded, Mr.. Bland took his hat and stick
and went out for walk.
He did not seem to have any special OBJ
iect in view, for he sauntered along quite
slowly, now stopping to gather wild flow
er from hedge-which he would medita-
lively break to pieces and throw away-noW
resting for while on some wayside stone
: Or log, and allowing hiseyes to roam absent
ly over the surrounding prospect. He had
chosen path on the outskirts of the village,
leading away from its populous parts; and
after devious windings and turnings, he
came at length, without design, in view of
Mrs. Barton's handsome place.
The sight of it startled him momentarily,
and he hesitated, as if about to retrace his
steps; but second impulse moved him to
advance instead, and he did so with beat
ing heart.
II shall make my first approach in open
day." he said to himself. "Perhaps chance
will bring her out of the house. want to
see what the result will be-"
No one meeting the plain-looking way
farer would have guessed, from his quiet
face, whata tempest of emotion was stirring
in his breast, as he drew nearer the spot
which was the shrine of all his hopes, all
his affections spot hallowed in his eyes
as her abode.
1t was cheerful, sunny day, and draw
ing nearer yet, he heard voices in the gar
den-children's voices only, at first; but
presently quite distinct from all the rest
came another thathe knew, and he held his
breath to listen.
"Jack, I am going to the post office now.
You may come with me if you like, but
first run and wash your face and hands,"
Commonplace words enough, certainly !;
but they revealed fact which made the
hearers breath come more quickly. She
was coming out-would soon be near him
would pass close by. Should he stay and
meet her face to face, or should he quickly
retreat before she had time to reach the
place where he stood?
Before he had decided the question, the
front gate, which stood in tall cedar hedge,
opened, and she came out.
Trembling, he seated himself on rough
bench beneath tree, as If to rest; and
drawing his hat little forward over his
brow, watched her furtively as she slowly
walked towards him, waiting for her little
brother to come out. She did not notice
him at all. Probably it was no unusual
thing for tired man to rest upon that
bench, and his presence there did not affect
her.
Like a flash resolve possessed him, and
he rose as she came within speaking dis
tance.
x Madam" he said in a slow, labored
tone, II am very thirsty; might 1 trouble
you for glass of water?"
She looked at him with the old kind
glance he remembered so well; a tritie in
quiringly, as if to judge what manner of
person he might be.
"With pleasure, will get it for you,"
she answered. "Follow me, please"
And he followed her through the gate,
and crossing the garden, waited, as she
babe him, near side door, while she went
into the the house.
Then he heard old Mr.. Dean ask queru-
lously.
"Who's that, Susan? a tramp?"
"Oh no, father" she cheerfully answered.
"a nice old gentleman who seems very
tired, and wants drink of water"
And coming out with silver cup of wa
ter she gave it into his waiting hands, and
stood beside him as he drank.
"God bless you" he said when he had
finished and turning from her suddenly
so suddenly that it surprised her-he hur-
ried away.
He had had his wish-had stood face to
face with her once more-had even spoken
to her and listened to her voice in reply.
And nothing had come of it.
What could have come of it? Surely he
had expected nothing-no sign of recogni-
ton. Strange indeed it would have been
for her to know him as he was now! But a
dreadful blank was at his heart as he went
away, fully realizing how truly, although
living, he was quite dead to her.
But he meant to wait still-a little longer.
He told himself that he would never ap-
proach her home again. And yet that
very evening, and the next, and the next,
found him at his old post in the darkness
beneath her window. How many hours he
spent there, hidden like criminal fearing
discovery, watching the lights in her home,
the shadows on the blinds, listening to the
murmur of voices within, sometimes the
strains of music and the voice Of happy
laughter that fell like mockery on the
ears of the poor outcast, self-eXiled from
the paradise he longed, yet did not dare
to enter.
Mrs. Morton was concerned to see that
her boarder, in whom she took so warm an
interest, was growing daily more melan-
choly and feeble-looking; he scarcely touch
ed his food, and seemed to have lost his fond
ness for conversation, spending the greater
part of his time in his own room. In truth,
he was full of uneasy thoughts; and his in
terview with Susie had quite upset him-he
could not recover his equanimity at all.
Sometimes the desire to meet her again to
present himself to her in his true colors,
came upon him so fiercely that it was hard
for him to combat it; then the dread of en-
bittering her life, of destroying her happi-
ness for the second time, gave him courage.
And his motto was still-Wait.
At last there came an evening when Tom
Morton walked again in the garden with
the woman they both loved, and the listen
er again heard him plead his cause. He
had come this time, it seemed, by perlnis-
sion: and the man who watched them from
his hiding place vowed within himself that
this would be the turning-point of his own
decision-he would be guided by what he
now discovered in carrying out his plans.
He listened to the lovers earnest plead