The weekly Union times. [volume] (Union C.H., South Carolina) 1871-1894, 1889-08-09
THE
! LITTLE " AIF.
A A Story Of Absorbing Interest
BY BERNARD HERsERr.
CHAPTER I.
IN THE DEATH CnAMBER.

IN THE DEATH CHAMBER
Tick, tick, tickl
What endless hours--and the night
only just begun.
Within the house rcigncd mn omiu.
GUS hush; the inmates went to and fro
from room to room with slippered feet
and spoke in whispers. Outside, tho
moon, like disk of frosted silver, sailed
through the March night, glinting upon
lawn and grove, and resting with hal
lowed radiance upon the gables and win.
dows of the quaint English mansion that
stood well up on the cliffs, command
ing an expansive prospect of the glitter.
ing sen where it washed the coast OF
Devonshire. Such is glimpse of Ivy
Manor ON this particular night as tho
clock struck eleven.
It was the tall, old-fashioned clock
that tolled the hour, and then went on
with its doleful refrain:
Forever-never,
Never-forover.
As the last tremulons stroke died
away upon the silence, the figure upon
the bed in the south chamber stirred.
an emaciated hand tossed back the
grown prematurely gray aud haggard-
ed lamp in the chimney corner, the
ject in the dim chamber, but finding
the head sank back upon the pillow NJ
q sigh left the pallid lips.
II shall never see my native land. my
home, again, murmured tie sufferer; !;
"to-morrow's dawn will find me in an
OkI III
until have made my peace with
that rests upon it, and revealed tho
burden TO me. must see Oracle to-
night; dare not let it go another
houri"
In pursuance of his determination,
the dying man stretched forth his hand
toward o small table upon which stood
little bell. As he was about to touch
Il door opened noiselessly, and q
trained nurse entered;-a queer, ancient
dame who went by the name of Mrs.
Hanks. She fastened lightly to the
bedside.
awake, Mr.. Clifford ?" she asked.
"Yes-this hour-who's in the next
room?"
Nobody, sir, just at present"
One glance at the countenance of
Orrin Clifford would have been suffi-
cient to assure even an Impractical eye
that Death had set its seal upon him.
Mrs. Hanks started as she noted the
fatal change.
"How are you feeling, sir?"
II shall not live to see the sun rise, "
--eame the dispiriting response.
"Oh, don't say that, Mr.. Clifford"
"Why should I not2 What is left
for me to live for?-only my nephew,
Max Boyden, and he is aching for me
to die"
He spoke as though communing with
himself. He added aloud:
"You have been n good, true friend
to me in my exile, Mrs. Hanks. 1t was
not my money that purchased your
kindness know we'll. You have
the heart of Christian woman in your
breast, and feel that can speak to
you as can speak to no other. You
have known me intimately since tho
physician advised me to come here into
your soft English nir-to die.
Don't interrupt me--let mo speak
while have the strength. -
II knew that was tickoted for the
grave before left New York, more
than twelve months ago. Yet l had
hope, as who would not with 80 much
To- live for? So tried the south OF
France, Italy, tile German spas all In
4 vainl Attended by my man-scrvant and
his--his child, little Oracle, I wandered
from place to place until i settled here,
where my wanderings will cease"
He paused for an instant TO take
heart while his haggard eyes wandered
about; then in o lowered tone he con-
tinued
"You have scen my nephew, Max
Boyden, often enough during the past
winter no is my sisters son, my own
flesh and blood, but he is longing to
have me die. Being my nearest of kin,
h0 counts upon being my heir, so that
!. he can continue to carry on his wild