The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1886-04-23

spranc forward. Then they rested up
on me, and caught the wOTds-wOrds
like music:
= oh. pray save me if you can
"a moment after the horse bore
down on me full butt. But l was pre-
pared. | grasped the rein close to the |
bit, and swung the brute round. AS l |
did so. the girl fell off her saddle into my |
arms. But oh, the glance, she gave ne |
out of her dark ewes, Mark, | was in |
love from that moment. let the horse
go, for the riding-maSter or anybody
else to catch, while | supported herWho
/ felt was my destiny. | should have
liked to have supported her until now,
but | was not allowed to five minutes.
A lot of women came chattering round,
for the girl had tainted. At the same
time a carriage halted, and the lady III
it. who had seen the accident, offered to
drive her home. 1t was quite right,
but | didn't thank her. | managed,
however, to ascertain that she whom
had saved was pupil at a large school
in Brighton, and | need not say, Mark,
did not hurry away from that town.
On the contrary | stopped. Again ana
again / saw her who after that one
glance held such sway over me. at the
school was a good-hearted housemaid,
who taking pity on me, carried my let
ters and brought me answers to them.
Once she managed an interview for us
SCllOOl-QIOuIlu.
love, | learned that my passion was re-
turned, then our interview was cut
short by a signal from the houSemald.
I'VE parted, Mark, and since then
have never again met"
Never, Mr.. Phil? Why, that's two
years ago!'
the Bedford i found a telegram
awaiting me- My uncle had been thrown
from his horse. The injury he had sus-
tanned was. the doctor thought, not Sc
Tious, but Mr.. Bathurst wanted me to
come. l went, of course, writing from
| Bathurst to my beloved under cover to
| the hOusemaid. explaining the cause of
! my absence, and, giving her my address,
/ begged her to reply. No answer. how
I ever. came Not the least notice was
! taken of my communication. \ little
! over a week l was again in Brighton,
/ haunting the school | saw the pupils
start on their daily walk. but my dar-
| ling was not there. Was she i'll? l laid
wait for the hOusemaid. Again tallurei
she too had disappeared.
"Driven to desperation, finally went
| boldly to the school, and asked for the
| principal Then il all came out. Oh,
Mark. what a row there was. Miss
Dawes. a lean. long. prim woman, with
Curls like a front. heaped no end OF
| ladylike abuse upon me. 1t seemed that
something had created Miss Dawes 5
suspicious. She had watched, inter
cepted nv letter and had discovered
everything. In vain / protested the
honor of my intentions, my love; 1t but
added to her wrath. l entreated an in
terview with her pupil. She absolutely
screamed.
Sir" she exclaimed, you have done
your best to ruin the moral standing of
my establishment, but, praise Heaven,
| circumstances have prevented your sue
ceeding.'
sShe was a wicked old woman, Mark,
to say that, considering what the cir
cumstances were.
s.Wen. she showed me the door, and
for nearly another week l frWtlessly
haunted the place, hoping to get news.
Regardless of Miss DaweS'S frOwns, !
made it a point always to meet her pu-
pills in their walk. Among them was a
dark, bright-eyed, pretty girl, who ap-
/ peared a perfect repository of fun. She
looked at me at first coquettishly, next
curiOusly, next interestedly; finally,
felt sure, with meaning. l watched
hoping. and one day found her walking
as demurely as little mouse by the
side of Miss Dawes at the tail OF the
| twenty young ladies. AS she saw me
however, a quick meaning glance sho
from the corner Of her laughing eyes
and. as rapidly slipping her hand behinC
her, she dropped a folded paper.
''TwO minutes after, l had picked i
L
on 1t:
"'S1R KNIGHT or THE DoLEFUL COUNTE
NANCE:-If l am right in my surmise, you ar
searching for one who Is no longer here
Nearly a fortnight ago she was fetched ava
to her father, who was dying. 10, LadbrooE
crescent, London, Is not hundred mile
away from her residence. Don't betray me-
Hardly had | finished than the girl
came marching back. My kind fTien
sent a glance in my direction. l let m
ewes answer her, and tore up her com
municatiOn after putting it to my lips
that she might see she was safe. Iha
same evening | was in London, Mark
And didn't you find her, Mr.. PhilI
NO, was too late sighed Phil
Bathurst; Il found the house shut Il
, and to let. Inquiring, | learned tina
her father had died. that a week bac
he had been buried, and that an unCl
/ had taken her l loved away; whert
none could inform me, save that it wa
believed to Australia. For a month
T searched and inquired with no bette
, result, so gave up in despair"
= But why didn't the young lady writ
} to you. Mr.. PHILIP
l because, Mark, had never thougl
5 of giving her my address here.
2 "Then. it's my opinion, Dir. Phi
+ you'd better take Miss McCrea.'
. NO, Mark. never" CALCULATED Phil
: Bathurst. .spTinging up from the heathe
IN not sell myself and my best affe
tiOns for money! | don't like Miss VI
= Crea, and. by JOve. l viii not mari
S her for all the uncles in the world.
Y | seemed Just now to hesitate, my T
vealing the past has decided me. l.
: my uncle disinheTit me if he pleases.
III be independent; III work. l ha'
:, strength and health-capital stock-I
t trade. I'll go to Australia; III go
the diggings; III dig up a fortune,
L Jovei and III find her / love. She is
. Australia. Why, Mark, shouldn't
I find her?'
l SWhy not. Mr.. Phil? though reck'
o Australia's big place, and you all
=, likely to find her at the diggings, and
II you wait to do so until you've dug VI
:. fortune she may not be very young,
i she may be married when you do I'll
!; her.
u mark, for Heavens sake don't
e such a Jobs comforter" exclaimed
l. foster-brother. He had been stridi
/ backwards and forwards through [
"a heather. but now halted before I
other. Australia isn't like EnglaT
Z Besides. what obstacles will not 10
10 surmOunt, especially when the prize
4 so worth winning? Look, Mark, a
-. Judge"
u Taking out his pocket-bOok, he pl
Z duced from it a small photo vlgnet
B.. and held it to his fOSter-brOther.
20 ''Is that her. Mr.. Philr"
u THAT is her, Mark. Is she not beS
T. tiful?''
That she is, Mr. Phil"
Now then. confess: do you blal
me for living in hope, Mark-fOr ref
-, ing. for all Bathurst, to put an ms
~ mOuntable barrier between her and n
~ self should we ever meet, as | cam
y help but feel that one day we shall?
a by George Mr.. Phil I'd 90 thrOu