Waterbury evening Democrat., 1889-08-16

judgment on the future, he lifted his gray head commandingly, and swept his wrinkled hand across an imaginary arc above i., say ing, vengefully: s'Let it kill i'm let it be the death ov i'm, an Dive not a wurrud to say. That's just it; let jim be afthur gittin' his desarts. Pay him, Oi say, in his own chink; in his very own, an' it'll be gude enuff fur 'it4.'
 But harkl what was that which came through the open hallwaya In moment Ancil had subsided in his harangue, and all had risen to their feet and stood listen ing. There it came again; it was the clear, quick tones of the masters bell summon ing them! What had happeneda Every face told plainly that the sound of the mas ter's bell, ''after hours," had struck terror to their hearts
 James ran upstairs with all speed possi- ble, and went alone, as not one of them dared to follow him, although the little sill very peals of the bell continued to float down corridor and hall ln quick, ener- getic notes.
 "Howly Moses an what's up now? Whin will the ind be rached and the climax of this | therible day be forninst us9" And Ancil | Clarkson walked back and forth excitedly | in the midst of those who might not make | him answer.
 James opened the door of his masters l apartments with a feeling as if something l awful had happened, or would soon happen l the Hall. In moment more he stood mute l ly before Sir Rupert, who, with one trem. bling hand still resting on the bell pull, stood | staring wildly into space. | ''I wish you would call Miriam," begged the master, in @ helpless, stricken tone. 1 "She has just this moment left me to ar range for journey, and IT can not have | hos T ,olI ToVp ct,ox hoxv pity-must stay with me. You will find her in her rooms, I think; see her at once, and tell her she must, for sweet pity's sake, l give up this ]ourney-voyage, rather" James stood petrified to the spot for some minutes Had the master gone daft, or had Miriam really returned, and was she now | in the Hall somewhere2 Sir Rupert took his hand from the bell l and stretched it out to the butler in en- treaty, while an ashen paleness crept over l his aged face.
 Don't lose moment of time, James, and if she will go, why, ask her to leave the child with me. It will be such a sun shine in the Hall, the bright little"
 Boy" put in James, by way of enlight- enment, no longer fearing reprimand from this stran angely-altered man.
 "Boy? An! dear little son." went on Sir Rupert. IA son! Then the evil genius can at last be thwarted. A son! Go, bring the little one-Miriam's little son-and beg of her also not to make the voyage unless she must. would have prevailed on her." he continued, in a lower tone, and sinking into his chair, "but somehow she wouldn t listen to me, James. She coEld not be made to hearken."
 He ceased speaking and folded his arms | in a tired way.
 "Well, James, will you fail me tool" he added, piteously.
 "No, master, shall not fail," answered the butler, promising something, he knew not what. Then he stepped outside to think. What should he doa'
 He was certain that Miriam Percival Fairfax was not in the Hall, and he half believed Sir Rupert's mlnd was turned, or that he had had vivid dream, which, to him, was reality.
 l Nevertheless he went to Miriam's rooms
 groping around the shadowy silent corri-
 dor, and thinking faster than he had done l for many day.
 The key to her experiments was hanging in it's ring in the wall at the right of the l door, as it had hung for four long solitary
 years, except at the times when Sir Rupert,
 seized with sudden fits of compunction,
 would pay a visit to them.
 Turning the key In the lock, James opened
 the door cautiously and looked in. Not 6
 sound or even 0 sight of any living object
 met his eager, questioning eyes. It was plain Miriam was not there, nor had not
 been, and that Sir Rupert was suffering | from a temporary haIlucination the butler
 felt certain.
 Reluctantly he retraced his steps, an6
 opening his masters door quietly, he went in Sir Rupert was sitting much as he left him only his hands had fallen to his side ano
 that he seemed asleep. He reused up, how | ever, as James entered, and a wan smile lowered around his trembling lips as hs
 asked: "Did she relinquish her resolv, l concerning the trip, and will she be kind t. ! me and remain at the Hallf" 'No" answered James, talking at ran dom, "she is going"
 "And will have no pity on her lonely fa ther7 An! ingratitude; ingratitudo! Sh . l will leave me the little son, then, if sh must got"
 "No," answered the butler, again at hi wits end, but laundering on, ''she vii take the baby with her; needs him he. :, self, she says"
 , "Then am undone; in the home of m ! ancestors I must die alone, and broker
 hearted. But could you not prevail on herl f | he continued, brightening visibly. "Spea f of her dead mother"
 "But, master" said James, much affecte ! by this unusual softness, and knowing th ; M. 1RkIl 4