The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1889-08-30
CECIL COUNTY, AUGUST 3d. 1889.

There was o time when you dandle,
Roger Darrell upon your knee: will yol
now refuse to even clasp his hand2"
"Friends !" almost shouted the old mai
In his ungovernable rage, for he possessed
fearful temper. ~ tell you hate you
name; hate your face; I hate even the
sight Of your presence. Go from here
aud never let my daughter see your hate
full countenance again. Touch YOU
hand? Sooner would l clasp a viper
whose fangs were ladon with poison.
Once for all, Roger Darrell, let mo tel
you we can never be friends; we shall
be enemies to the death; am a man OF
iron will, as perhaps you know. Carol,
look your last on this man who would
have caused you to weep tears of blood
then come with me-"
For one minute they stood looking into
each others face; then the savage old
man wheeled, and, still retaining his hold
of Carols wrist, walked away with vigor
that was surprising, considering his age,
and yet which stamped his words true
he was man Of iron will.
Slowly Roger made his way home, but
the broad domain over which he had so
lately gloated as tho home to which he
would bring his bonny bride had lost all
Its charms for him.
Hardly had he passed from Carols sight
down the forest aisle, before the bushes
rustled not far away, and a female form
thrust itself into view, o girls face, with
the largest hlaok eyes Imaginable, which
were flashing with mingled fires.
Her path lay directly across the one
Roger was SO sadly pursuing. Her sudden
and weird appearance startled Roger,
and caused him to spring back out of her
way.
She passed swiftly ON, mutteFing ves
hemently to herself, but Roger was so
deeply absorbed In his own sad love
affair, that, having recovered from his
surprise, he paid no further attention to
her.
He did not see the girl suddenly turn,
cast upon him the intensest freight of
those flashing eyes, nor hear her awful
threat,
"The blow Is falling, Roger Darrell, and
1t shall be tho hand of the despised gypsy
that sends the poisoned dart to your
heart. Pain and trouble-they shall come
to you through Barbara Merriles"
One afternoon-would she ever forget
lt?-while Carol walked in the forest, her
thoughts upon the strange break that had
come into her life, she became conscious
of the fact that she was no longer alone,
that some one stood leaning against a
tree just in front of her.
With astart she looked up, and her eyes
fell upon strange girl.
There was no mistaking what she was,
for, although dressed much different. and
in much more costly apparel than all the
gipsies, Carol had ever seen, as If she
was of foreign blood, there was the un-
gypsy stamp about her face
and peculiar costume.
Although Carol been trife surprised
and startled at first, she had quickly got
over that, and was about to resume her
walk, when the gypsy girl addressed her.
Such glowing black eyes had surely
never been seen before. They lit up the
whole bro wn face, and at times made it
seem actually beautiful.
"Stay, child of the house.dweller. Be
not in haste to leave me. I have como
here with the purpose of meeting you,
for have something to tell you," she
said, in the strangest voice Imaginable.
1t was like the cooling of dove, yet with
a vein easily traced in 1t that grated like
the clashing of cymbals, or the weird
DOtaS of har nafiyo pastouptQ
Something to say to me :? or whom
would you talk?" asked Carol in surprise.
"Of Roger Darrell"
The three words went like an arrow
home to the heart Of the pale lily, and
the black eyes, quick to see the startled
look of pain, took upon themselves a
glow that one could easily imagine was
Carol saw this, and 1t served to give
her fictitious strength. She OWNED
now that something terrible was about
to be made manifest, and while her soul
with apprehension, she assumed
o brave front.
"What would you tell me of Roger
Darrell. girl?"
"Has 1t ever occurred to you that this
lover of yours has secret? There is
in Roger barrels past that
will chill your blood with horror-a skele-
ton that he has tried to bury these many
years, but which will not be kept under
ground. All he has deceived you as he
deceived me. Soft words blind the eyes.
To you he is all that is good and noble
to me, all that is bad. He is devil!
"What mean you? For Gods sake,
speak, girl. Don't you see am stifiing?"
yasped Carol, one white hand grasping
ler perfect throat as though she was al
most unable to breathe.
A wicked gleam came into the gipsy's
orbs.
"Listen to me, then, daughter of the
and will tell you of his
nfamy. All this Barbara Merriles can
prove. The man you love, the man who
has wooed you with soft, honeyed words,
and whom you believe to be the soul of
lonor-that man, Roger Darrell, has a
wife living shut up In a mad-house."
Carol Richmond shrank back appalled,, |
ls those horrible words, uttered in q sib-
NJ hn civil 81 IL.