San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1886-03-01
MA - -:
A TALE OF A CARAVAN.
BY ROBERT BUCHANAN.

me days passed, and there was no
news of the absent man. Every day
Matt went up to the caravan to make
inquiries. At last, one afternoon, she
returned, looking greatly troubled; her
eyes were red, too, as if she had been
crying.
What's the matter nOw?" demanded
William, who had left his usual seat
and was standing at the door.
"Nowt," said Matt, wiping her eyelids
with the back of her hand.
Don't you tell no lies. You've heerd
Summat? Stop! What's that theer I'M
der your ARM"
All at once he had perceived that she
carried large roll of something wrap
ped in brown paper. He took it from
her and opened it nervously. 1t was
the crayOn portrait of herself executed
by the defmCt artist.
"WhO gave Won this here" cried WI
liam Jones, tremhl NJ more than ever.
Tim"
who's her
Him as come looking arter his mas
ter. Tie painter chap amt found; and
now Tim 5 goin' away in the cart to tell
his friends And he gave me ,hiS-my
pictur'; he gives me it to keep. His
master said | were to have it; and |
mean to keep it now he's dead"
William Jones handed back the pict-
ure, and seemed relieved, indeed, when
il was out of his hands.
"Dead?" he muttered. not meeting
1inIJs eyes, but looking right out TO
sea. "WhO told you he were dead?"
Matt did not reply, but gazed at VIII
liam so long and 50 significantly that
the good man, conscious other scrutiny,
turned and plunged into the darkness
of his dwelling.
An hour later loud voice summon
ed him forth. lie went to the door,
and there was Monk of MOnkshurst. 1t
was the first time they had met since
they parted on the night of the murder.
Monk was dressed in a dark summer
suit, and looked unusually spick and
span.
Where's the girl?" he cried, after a
whispered COlloquy of some minutes.
Matt, where are yOu?"
In answer to the call Matt appeared
at the door. No sooner did she perceive
Monk than she trembled violently. and
went very pale.
Come here. Matt" he said, with an
insinuating smile. See! I've brought
something for yOu-something pretty
for YOU to wear"
AS he spoke he drew from his waist
coat pocket small gold ring, set with
turquoise stones. But Matt still trem-
bled, and shrank away.
Il don't want i'll sha'n't wear it,"
she cried.
Nonsense, Matt" said Monk. "Why,
it's ring fit for a-lady. Come, let me
put it on your finger"
So great seemed her agitation, so
deep her dread of him, that she could
not stir; so that when he approached,
laughing, and caught her round the
waist, he slipped the ring on her finger
before she could resist. But it only re-
manned there moment. With a quick.
sharp cry, she tore herself free, and,
taking the ring off, threw it right away
from her upon the sand. Then, with
wild gesture of fear and lOathing, she
rushed into the cottage.
William Jones walked over and pick
ed up the ring, while Monk stood scOwi-
ing darkly after the fugitive.
what the devil ais the grip" cried
the latter with a fierce oath DOckptinp
the present.
Il dunno. She's never been the same
since-snce the painter chap went miss
ing. I'm afeerd he turned the gals
head
Hell turn no more heads" muttered
Monk under his breath; he added aloud
and with decision. There must be an
end TO this. Size must he married TO
me at once"
do you mean it. master? When you
spoke on it fust | thought you was iOk-
ing"
Then you were fool for your pains.
She's old enough, and bold enough, and
viXenish enough; but I'll tame her. |
tell you there must be no more delay.
My minds made up, and I'll wait no
longer"
Sinking their voices they continued
to talk together for some time. Now
Matt was crOuching close to the TIRES
hold, and had heard every word of the
above conversation, and much that fol-
lowed it. When Monk walked away
and disappeared, leaving William Jones