Waterbury evening Democrat., 1888-09-05
THE GREAT RUDY OP GEYl,OK!
BY 70,

BY "Q.'
 Book l,-TnE QUEsT OF THE GREAT RUBY. | %or quite mmute bent to catch the next | word, then looking on his face withdrew my 1 arm and laid the grew head back upon the pill | low.
 My uncle was dead.
 So it happened that few weeks after Tom and I. having found Uncle Loveday's savings equally divided between us, started from Liz ard Town by coach to seek our fortunes in | London. In London it is that I must resume my tale. We did not find our fortunes, but we found some wisdom. Neither Tom nor 1 ever confessed to disappointment at finding the pavements of mere stone, but certainly two more absolute Whittingtons never trod the streets of the great city.
 But before resume must say few words of myself. No reader can gather the true moral of this narrative who does not take into account the effect which the cruel death of my parents had wrought on me. From the day of the wreck hate had beon my constant com paniOn, cherished and nurSed in my heart until it held complete mastery over all other passions. l lived, so Itod myself over and over again. but to avenge. to seek Simon Col liver high and low until I held him at my mercy. Thousands of times l rehearscd the scene of our meeting, and always l held the knife which stabbed my father. In my walk ing thoughts, in my dreams. I was al ways pursuing, and Colliver forever fleeing before me. In every crowd 1 seemed to watch for his face alone, al every street corner to listen for his Voce-that face, that voice, which should know among thousands.
 To London had Simon Colliver come, and somewhere. some day, he would be mine Until that day sought n living face in city of dead men, and down that ilmitahle slope to Holborn, and back again, I would tramp until the pavementS were silent and deserted then seek my lodging and throw myself ex- hauSted on the bed.
 In dingy garret, looking out, when it's grimv panes allowed, above one of the many sQuald streets that feed the main artery of the Strand, my story begins anew. The furniture of the room consisted of two small beds, one rickety washstand, one wooden chair and one tin candlestick. At the present moment this last held tlickcring dip, forit was ten o'clock on the night of May the ninth eighteen hun. dred and siNtv-three. On the chair sat Tom turning eXcitedly the leaves of prodigiously imposing manuscript. l was sitting on the edge of the bed nearest the candle broodins on my hate as usual.
 Fortune had evidently dealt us some rough knnckS. We were dressed as Tom put II, tC suit the furniture, and did it to nicety. We were fed, according to the same authority above our income; but not often. also quots Tom in saying that we were living rather fast We certainly saw no long prospect before us In short matters had reached d crisis.
 Tom looked up from his reading
 Do you know, Jasper, I could wish that our washstand had not a hole cut in it to re- ccive tho basin. It sounds hypercritical. But really it prejudicrs me in the eyes of mana. gers. There's a suspicious bulge in the mid dlr of the paper that is damning"
 l was absorbed in my own thoughts and took no notice. Presently he continued:
 "Whittington is overrated character don't you think After all, he owed his suo cess to his name. It's a great thing for a struggling youth to have three-syllapled nam" with a proparoNyton accent. I've been listening to the bells tonight and can make nothing of Loveday, while as for Trenoweth it's h0pclrSs.
 As I remained silent Tom proceeded to an.
 1.-The House will now go into the Question of Supply"
 The ENchequor," I rctortod contains exactly sixteen and eighteen halfpcnny"
 Kent having been duly paid to-day and receipt given.'
 Receipt given" echoed.
 Really, when one comes to think of it. the situation is striking. Here are you, Jasper Trenowcth, inheritor of the Great Ruby oi Cry!ou, besides other treasures too paltry tc mention, in danger of starving in a garret Here am l. Thomas Loveday author of Fran. c"sta; a tragedy and other masterpieces toe numerous tO catalogue, with every pros ,ect of sharing your fate. The situation is striking, Jasper. you'll admit"
 "Nhnt did the manager say about it?"
 "On!y just enough to show he had not looked at it. He was more occupied with my appearances and yet agreed before I set out that your trousers might have been made for me. They are the most spacious articles in our joint wardrobe; I thought to myself as l walked along to-day, Jasper, that after all ii is not the coat that makes the gentleman-it's the trousers. Now, in the matter of boots surpaSs you. If yours decay at the present rate your walks in Oxford street will become luxury"
 was silent again.
 1 do not recollect any case in fiction of s man being baked of his revenge for the want of a pair of boots. Cheer up, Jasper boy be continued, rising and placing hand on my shoulder. We have been fools and have paid for it. You thought you could find your enemy in London, and find the hiding place too big. I thought I could write and find cannot. As for legitimate work, sixteen and eighteen halfpenny, even with economy, will 1 hardly carry us on for three years" | rose. II will have one more walk in Oxford l Street. I said, "and then come home and see this miserable farce of starvation out"
 Don't be a fool, Jasper. It Is difficult, know, to perish with dignity on sixteen and eighteen half-penny: the old coppers spoil the effect. Still we might bestow them on less squeamish beggar and redeem our pride" 'Tom,' said, suddenly, you lost lot of af poip