Waterbury evening Democrat., 1889-08-17

Ing up with an untold dread In Der big blne
 eyes. "An' dl ye sey the master WIS
 wurrusa"
 "Ever so much," James repeated, hand
 ing the letter back to the housekeeper, ''for
 you see he has eaten nothing of the nice
 breakfast Marcia prepared for him.
 "Och hoon" walled Peggy throwing
 down the polish and sinking into chair.
 "An' 1t was that letter that's gone an' kilt
 tho nasthur. Oi'm shure 1t was the doin's
 of that same. Howly motherl an what if
 he dhraps off suddin loike, an the childer
 not in sphakin' disthancel Woe be the day
 that he doies l"
 But that trying time had gone by and tho
 master of Heatherleigh had revived
 through the succeeding months, only to
 sink again under far heavier blow.
 Tho winter como on, and during its
 dreary hours Sir Rupert was obliged to
 keep his apartments the greater portion of
 the time, and grew accustomed to depend
 ing on tho servants entirely. In conse-
 quence, they learned to watch over him as
 one would over troublesome child, 'only
 they didn't dare to punish him." as Marcia
 remarked somewhat spitefully at the close
 of very trying day. But with the
 breath of spring again his spirits seemed to revive 0 little. He walked out occasion
 ally, leaning on the arm Of one of the serv
 ants, and breathcd tho sweet air that kissed the tender buds and silky leaflets forth.
 Sometimes wheeled about the grounds in
 his chair, resting here and there in some favorite spot, intent ou watching the birds in tho tufted elms, or gazing wistfully high
 up the ivy-wreathed gables. The grand old Hall never had seemed So much like 0 magnificent mausoleum, nor the interior seemed so much like tomb as i: did this sunny springtide.
 CHAPTER XVI - these last days of his unluclxy life,
 these last weary days, every thing con duclve to lingering remorse had united against the proud soul of Sir Rupert, even
 the old facade suggested Q tomb. It only needed little something more to tip the balance, and in favor of hastening demise Sir Rupert could say: II am ready. Oh! Charon; stand waiting on the treach- erous sands.''
 spending hours in climbing up and down the silent staircases, cchoiug only to his faltering steps.
 Sometimes resting on tho landings, he would muttcr to himself of tho deceased Lady Percival, and Of Miriam, and often of the little grandson.
 Then there came 0 timc when he risked the staircase no longer alone; and in thesc wretched days he strayed about the dark, gloomy corridors above during the long, monotonous summer afternoons, but oftener in the midnight watches. The whole h ,ehold were daily growing nervous and uneasy, and were obliged to occupy rooms near those of their master in order that his many strange fancies might be the easier looked after.
 One great hallucination of these desper- ate days was Sir Rupert imagined that Mi riam was secretcd in tho Hall somewhere, and he caught her peeping through the half-open doors, and waking him so often from his afternoon maps, he said. For hours and hours ho would search along
 the halls and corridors, going with stealthy step and unwearying patience. Often he would pause in these searches and listen long and anxiously for the sound of her footstep and the music of her voice. Some times he would start up at dead of night and cry out, eagerly: "Oh! she is comin g now; Miriam, my beautiful daughter, Is coming; l can hear her steps on the stairs P Growing contented after these outbursts and glad flights of expectation, he would wait quietly for her appearin until another nervous attack seized him, or he had quite forgotten whom he was waiting for. COnce he was so determined that Miriam had been in his apartments and had touched him on his arm, awakening him from a sound nap, that all the servants had to be aroused to search for her because he failed to find her. All accomplishing the sleepy household instituted a mock SC arch to quiet him.
 So thus Tn the midnight hour, with tapers alight, they moved slowly about the silent, gloomy rooms, above and below. searching z for tho satis faction of their master, who fol- lowed them ill lis feeble march, leaning on the arm of one Of their number and talking | necessarily of his children.
 After hours of marching to and fro, hither and thither, at Sir Rupert's designation, he wearily concluded shc was hiding in the gallery, end no words of persuasion would deter him from going thither. A search in that lonely of all lonely rooms at Heather leigh was all that would pacify him, and with many misgivingS and superstitious fears crowding their courage to the wall the servants led him into the chamber ot sorrows and bitter memories. Ancil and James guided Sir Rupert's feeble steps, and the trembling Peggy went nhead with @ lighted taper.
 ''How,y mother of Christr' she clacu-
 lated, as she stepped asido for Marcia to un- ] lock tho apartment, "an' If this Ghostly perade wud only cocm to an lnd Old fale re- laved immensely"
 The key grated in the unused lock, the heavy door swung open, and the party en- tered the midnight gloom of the musty, ] close atmosphere of the gallery. On entering, Sir Rupert cast 0 quick, in- 1 quiring glance around him, as if really ex- pecting to see Miriam somewhere in the gloom, but nothing save the empty silence of the shadows rewarded his anxious vision. He stood perplexed and disappointed for some time, and the whitehead, frightened servants watched him with bated breath. What nexta The question was plain in each face of tho much-tormen ted household. But tho question was answered without l delay, for Sir Rupert, IS if recollecting him ! self, suddenly stretched out his arms to- l ward the row of reversed portraits opposite
 him, and while light of recognition glad dened his old face he exclaimed, almost gleefully: "Ahl now Miriam is hero after ! all."
 They assisted his eager steps across to the portraits indicated by his unnaturally bright eyes, and instinctively paused be- | meath Miriam's picture. James turned over | the portrait, at Q look from Sir Rupert, and 1 Peggy held the taper up close to the bcauti-