The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1886-04-02

To carry itself down so far to the country in
such a hurry. And besides, who knew OF it?
There, my dear child, try 10 sleep" she says,
softly; land ring for me if you want me
again"
So saying she goes to the door, opens it,
and, crossing the passage outside, walks
lightly downstairs and seats herself in a
room of the hall, from which, with the door
Just little way open, she can command a
view of any one going to or coming from the
drawing
Left to herself, Maud for some time lies
quietly upon the couch, thinking sadly of all
that has happened during the last two days,
and of all that yet may happen.
The blinds are pulled down, and the dusk
Of evening has descended and is creeping
everywhere making odd shadows in far
corners, and rendering even near objects in
distinct
The day has been dark and cloudy, and the
rain has fallen-now steadily, anon in iitful
gusts
The evening is as gloomy as the day. and
at this moment the raindrOpS are pattering
drearily against the window panes with
sad, ulOnOtOnOus sound that chills the heart
The usually pleasant room looks dull and
cheerleSs now in the uncertain light-dull as
her thoughts, and cherries as are her hopes
The moments fly; the ormolu clock upon
the mantelpiece chimes the half-honr.
And then there Is a noise of footsteps out
side, word or two quickly spoken, and the
door Is thrown open TO admit Mrs Neville
and tall, gaunt man, who follows her close
ly and quickly into the room.
MAUD, SpTlnRlilg 70 neT IeeL, RdZcS DFeatH-
leSsy at George Penruddock, though she can
barely Judge Of his appearance in the grow
ing twilight.
shadow, is in such position that he can
scarcely, perhaps not at all, discern her feat
what have 1 heard, Maud9" says Mrs.
Neville in great distress. rs ii true that
Dick has been led into quarrel-has, in
fact rislled his life in a duel for your sake?
Tell Mr.. PenTuddOck yourself that this story
is a vile tabrication-a shameless, wicked
untruthn'
81 can notl" begins Maud, huskily.
You hear her! says the tall, gaunt old
man, in accents that vibrate with anger.
'She acknowledges everything. She alone
is TO blame! This adventures, this young
viper, madam, whom you have taken 70 your
bosom, has willfully led my unhappy son in
70 quarrel that has in all probability brought
him to the graye!'
SILENCE, Mr. PenruddockV ~ saws Mrs. Ne
vile, with an air Of offended dignity foreign
10 her. This girl that you 50 ignOrantly ac-
cuse is in reality as good and true child as
ever breathed. and I shall listen to nothing
against her. She herself shall tell Us all the
truth but | forbid you to annoy or frighten
her with your coarse spescheS."
Yes: let her speak qUicllly-let me hear"
says PenruddOck, bTutally, and scOwling at
Maud.
In a broken undertone, Maud tells them of
all that took place between Dick and Captain
SaumaTeZ the night of Mrs. Neyille's dance,
suppreSsing only her visit to the latter's house
and the promise there extracted.
When she has finished her recital, she
bursts into tears and sObs distreSSingly.
Mrs. Neville, going up to her, takes her in
her arms, and presses her head down upon
her kindly bosom.
For few minutes no sound can be heard
in the room save the girls bitter weeping, as
she fondly and gratefully clings to her faith
full Mimi.
'Ay, weepV' says PenruddOck, cruelty.
you may well waste an idle tear upon the
man you have killed-upOn the hearth you
have left deSolatel 1t was a cursed hour
when first he met yOul [ have heard OF you
and have been told of your studied coquet-
ries, though have never seen you, nor do l
desire TO look upon your fatal facel | thank
the friendly darkness now that prevents my
seeing one who has blighted my remaining
years know all. 1 have heard of the uH-
fortunate infstuatiOn entertained for you by
my unhappy son, and ! now live TO see its
sad results. Rest satisfied Your vanity
must surely be satisfied when you know that
he died for your sake"
s'Oh Mimi do not let him say that! He is
not dead! He will come backP says Maud,
in an agony of grief and despair, appealing
IN a heart-broken manner TO her friend and
mother. "And it was not all my fault. And
and | will not believe that he Is deadl Il
would be too cruelI'
What gloomy room, and what gloomy
topic! Who is talking OF death?" asks gay,
glad young voice from the doorway, that
thrills the listeners to their hearts core.
1t is voice that makes the old man start
and tremble violently, aud hold out his arms
IN expectation, with suppressed but thank
ful cry.
Yet for the first time his loving greeting is
overlooked, is cast aside.
a slight figure, half hidden by the dusk,
but dscernible to the ewes Of a lover, has
chained the newcomers attention, and, OBJ
GviOus Of his father am ,f all things, Dick
PenruddoCk goes eagerly up to it
At the sound of his voice, Nj aud has raised
herself, and, breaking now from Mrs. Ne
Vile. goes quickly to him. and, with an i'm
pulsive gesture, lays her hands upon his
shoulders.
1T is indeed YOU! You have really come
back to - she gaspS, in little, tremulous
whisper, that plainly tells her love and
gratitude.
there was no dangeT-nOne. He fired right
over my head, and refused to fire again. No
one knows why. l really think he must
have had sneaking Kindness for me all
through, OF else he has tired OF killing. So
you see | was bound to come back, like that
Inevitable bad coin, you know. Why, what
is thisp Are those tears, my love-and are
they shed for nCT'
She is looking up at him with eyes full of
tears, and pink lids, and pallid cheeks; Yet
never has she appeared to him SO beautiful
as now, when decked with these signs of woe
that are worn for love OF him.
My dear Dick, what a fright you have
given usr says Mrs. Neville with a deep
sigh, half of relief, half OF annoyance. Why,
we have been mourning you as past all help
in this world, during the last hour; and now
here YOU are, safe and sound! | really think
you ought to be ashamed Uf yourself, and
ought also, TO offer us profuSe apology"
For being allvo?' smiled Dick.
''NcS-nO, ! Huean-nO- Dear me- hard
ly know what am saying; but you really
ought TO feel sorry for al the trouble that
you have caused
"Have you anything to say to your faith
er?' SAYS MI PenruddOck at the far end of
the room. That young lady''-pOinting 70
Maud-''if all l hear be true. you saw only
two nights ago: me YOU have not seen for
two months Y 81 have
nothing to say to me, though much to her.
Has and this was spoken very bitterly
has an acquaintanceShip Of weeks Obliter-
ated the affection OF years.
My dear father.' says Dick, deprecating-
ly.
Then he kisses Miss NcvilIe's hand. and
leaving her, goes up To where his fathor is
Maud, glad Of the chance, slips from the
room at this moment and escapes to her own
Sanctum.
''Why, father, what lucky chance has driv-
EN- you up to town. says Dick. aiTectionate-
ly, and placing his hand on Penruddock's
shoulder.
NO lucky chance, but the news OF this
duel that you have been fighting says his
father glOOmily. Into what dangers have
you been entiCeds'
why. how came you to hear Of it in your
quiet country homer says Dick, with some
amazement
''It matters little. l did hear, that Is plain.
and came up by the last train
MUST nave otrtl llat llGOFTls tDle W lId-
ing mutters Dick. below his breath
NV time in this great city must be short
says PenruddOck, not needing him, 'and
would speak with You seriously before leav-
ing. When can | find myself alone with
YOU? There is much that | have to tell
ANY time; | am quite At your disposal.
In an hour-half an hour says Dick, readi-
w. First | must see Nilding, To explain
matters: had promised to dine with him to
night but shall, OF course, resign everything
To devote myself to YOU. Where shall meet
YOU in half an hour3 Where are You putting
up-at the Langham, on Claridge 81
'''Claridge's. l shall expect you at the time
you say. Do not dislppoint me.