The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1886-07-31
FAlRVIEW;
One September
Night.
By JAMES FRANKLIN Fits.
CHAPTER NI-


in the following August that the adventure
happened that has just been described.
Three weeks later came that fearful night
toward which my pen has been speeding
with impatient swiftness. To be exact it
was the night of the ninth of September
One moment / hesitate; cloud seems to
pass before my vision; the letters blur and
blot before my pen. Oh, reader!-kind
friend sympathetic soul, though all I'M
known to me, who thus far has followed
me IN my effort to portray these passages
of my life-haye you ever explored those
vast underground chambers and passages
among the coal mines of Pennsylvania?
Have YOU ever descended far down into
the bowels of the earth-so far that the
pleasant light of day was but a little
twinkling speck afar otf-and then have
you passed through those dismal, those
awful subterranean abodes of darkness; IL
lumined only by the flare of a feeble torch,
and too often the scenes of horrible death?
And then at last returning to the upper air.
have you drawn long breaths of relief to
find yourself again on the broad rim of the
earth, under the blue sky and the yellow
sunshine, and murmured thanksgiving
that you were safe out of all these black
and yaYning dangers? If So you may
know with what shu offerings, with what re-
luctance, now turn back to the recital of
the dangers ! have escaped, and sound
again, if only in the recital, the depth of
the horrors that encompassed mel
But courage, faint heartl 1t is but the
recital From where / sit at my desk l
can look into the parlor; Paula is there,
and all is well
The night of September NINTH re-
member it we'll. A dismal, dropping rain
had fallen during the day, and with the
darkness 1t fell III torrents. Thunder and
lightning were frequent, and later wind
rose that became almost gale. At nine
O'Clock the rain had ceased, but the wind
still prevailed, and the darkness was ex-
cessive. Fortunately, as l thought, 1 had
no pressing visits to make ON that tenn
pestuous night, and sat alone in my office,
trying to interest myself IN the pages of
late medical review. 1t was almost use
less labor; my thoughts were ever straying
from the printed page, and the ideas it
sought to convey to me, to her who had
vanished from my life and left it sad and
lonely Nothing had | heard of her in
these three weeks, and | had nearly aban-
doned hope of hearing of her. My work
was done almost mechanically; l tried to
be faithful to my trusts; l believe l was
faithful; but the glorious Zest with which |
formerly pursued my calling was gone.
simply lived on, labored, and suffered.
The door was softly unclosed-so softly
that / should not have been aware of it had
not my eyes at the instant been turned in
that direction-and man entered. / had
never seen him before; so remarkable a
face and figure as his could not be forgot
ten, even if but casually seen. He had
been very tall and powerful of frame once,
but his shoulders now dropped with the
weight of at least sixty-ive years, and as
he crossed the floor his walk showed
limp. He had head of thick iron-gray
hair, and an open, benevolent face, wrinkled
and worn as it was. All this | noticed at
once, and also q certain shyness in his
manner, such as sometimes clings even to
men, from the cradle to the grave. He ad-
yanced now to where | sat- twirled his hat
as l gave him a good evening. and then
broke out abruptly: My name is Hugh
Staples, sir
hugh Staplesl / had heard that name
before. Quickly my thoughts ran back to
my first morning at Berkeley, to Dr. Beau
mont's house, and to the conversation which
! had heard there. / laid my book aside,
and waited for my visitor to go on. He
was not well at ease, and, though it was
plain to see that he had an errand and
something to say, he was at a loss to know
Just how TO say it. But he soon spoke
again.
I'm from Fairview, sir-I live there;
not in the great house, but in the small
one on the grounds. I'm the gardener, and
I'm sent to say"
He stopped. at loss how to go on.
We'll, / said, encouragingly.
I'm sent to say that there's sickness APP
that lcdg, and that you are wanted.
who is sick"
Why, the master; my old master, Edison
Whalley He's been long sick
Mr.. Whalley Why, does not Dr. Beau
mont attend him?"
The old mans face darkened at the
name. "Yes, sir, he does; and l suppose
he's there now"
But he never sent you for me?"
shake of the head was his answer.
Who did?"
He looked cautiously around, as if fear
full of being overheard, and then, APP
preaching his lips near to my face, he said
A young woman you have known bv the
name of Paula Burton.
jumped from my chair and stared him
in the face. Man, l said, ARE you
drunk, or crazy? What do you mean by
using the name of that lady in such way?7
His steel-gray eyes never flinched from
my indignant gaze.
II say it, sir, because it is true"
| tried TO be calm, but my brain was in
whirl
where is Miss Burton?'
At my house.
How long has she been there?"
: matter of three weeks-ever since she
left the village" Then, seeing by nv face
mat was still incredulous, he added:
She said you might find it q hard story
TO beheve, and so she told me to give you
this"
From his waistcoat pocket he produced
q slip OF writing paper. | seized IT eagerly.
and read the following, written in a female
hand:
DIR. MINToN: You have been my friend
more than once; be so again, Please come
with the bearer. PAULA"
her writing | had never seen; but felt
confident that she had written this. No
further thought occurred to me of inquir-
ing the object of the visit-no fear of any
danger troubled me; that she had called
me was enough-strange though ii seemed
that all this time she had been so near by.
Under the guidance of Hugh Staples |
started on my mission, whatever If might
prove Wei for my peace OF mind that
knew not then the perils of the journey
upon which l started that night, when |
closed the Office door behind mel
CHAPTER XII
The rain had ceased, but the wind blew
almost gale, and the night was very dark,
as nave SAID. The old gardener was quite
lnnrm, as well as lame, and our progress
was so SLOW that We were quite forty min
utes IN covering the half-mile to Fairview.
NOBODY seemed to be abroad but us: we
saw not person. We entered the grounds
~