The weekly Union times. [volume] (Union C.H., South Carolina) 1871-1894, 1889-10-25
CHAPTER NXI.

Ono would fancy, perhaps, that the
startling contrast in her surroundings
! to those of two or three hours previous.
ly; the rough, lonely by-path, over.
shadowed by the night, the gloom OF
the Woodland through which her road
| n suburb of the city infested by tramps,
would have intimidated my lady Cora,
and brought her to her senses, before
she had progressed two rods from her
| domain.
If any one entertained such an idea.
1T is evident that they had no concep-
tion of the indomitable pluck of my
lady Cora. Had the intense grit been
applied for good, she would have been
great woman whom the world would
have had reason to bless; as it was, she
svas bad, and her influence was for the
worst.
With never thought of fear or
single nervous qualm, she drew he1
dark cloak about her, and hurried along.
keeping close to the low bushes that
fringcd the path.
About midway of her course, her
quick ear detected the sound of foot.
steps approaching from the opposite
direction, and not wishing to be seen,
she stepped aside into the shrubbcrv,
and ctlcctually concealed herself be-
hind clump of aldcrs.
She had to wait some time, for the
advancing footsteps were slow and lag
ging. At last, when she parted the
leaves of her ambush and pecrcd
through, she disccrncd the dim, bent
figure of n man stumbling along the
middle of the road. and heard deep.
toned voice mumbling inarticulate
words.
"Some drunken countryman," she
told herself
Little did she dream that the strag-
glcr, who had passed on into the
shadows of the night, was her father,
old jean Leonard, wandering in his
half-crazcd way toward the place she
had left.
Wholly ignorant of this significant
fact, she rcgaincd the path, and made
up for lost time by increasing the ra-
ridity of her steps. She progressed
without further interruption, until
broad belts of lamp light interscctcd
her way, and upon glancing up to in
Vestlgate the cause, she found herself
nearing small waysidc inn, of decided
ly forbidding appearance.
If she could have avoided crossing
the belts Of light, she would gladly
have done so; but it was ont of the
question, owing to the dense woodland
that at this point bordered both sidcs
of the road. Therefore, keeping as far
rs possible from the den, from whose
open doors and windows loud voices
and snatchcs of song escaped to the
vulgar twang of n banjo badly played,
she hastcned on, until, with a start.
she became conscious that she was fol-
lowed
"A swift glance over her shoulder as
sured her that such was the case. A
ing, broad -shouldercd ruffan had seen
her fit past the inn, and was shambling
along in her wake.
Naturally her first impulse was to
take to her heels and fly.
Upon second thoughts, however, she
recognized the utter absurditv of such
n proceeding. III she fled, the rascal
IN all probability would outrun her,
and even if she succeeded i'm cluding
him, whittier should she go for shelter
and protection, stranger as she was to
the district?
Besides, if she were to demand as
sistancc at any of the farm houses she
would be obliged to disclose her iden-
tity, and defeat for n time, perhaps
the all important project she had in
hand. Under the circumstances, she
determined to dare the in
cvitable and face the music.
Consequently she turned about in
the path, halted, and waited for her
pursucr to catch up with her, which
the fellow lost no time in doing.
When he paused close before her, Cora
demanded in n dare devil tone, which
for moment staggered the man!
Look here! Are you following
me?"
II was travelling along the same
road, was the reply, delivered with o