Fort Worth weekly gazette. [volume] (Fort Worth, Tex.) 1882-1891, 1890-08-07
[ALL RIGHTS REsERvBD.1

A week after this secret meeting oy the sea-
the inhabitants of Scarley were one morning as
tonished and startled to see John Summers, the
boat builder, running bareheaded down the Will
lage, nouiring of every one he met II they mad
seen anything OF his girl.
John had risen as usual at o'clock, and with
out lousing his daughter, was his custom,
had gone to the work-yard only returning TO
the house at o'clock, when he expected his
breakfast would be ready for him. May was
most attentive daughter, and t was rarely that
the old man did not find eve Tything prepared LOT
his well-eaEned refreshment. But on the par,
ticular morning, when joins summers entered
the kitchen where he thought TO tni the meal
spread and the fire burning brightly, TO his
great surprise though not at first alarm, he saw
the CRATE .7as black and cold, and that there
were no preparations whatever for breakfast,
He at once supposed nat May had oversight
herself and went upstairs and raped at her
bedroom door. But there was no reply, ana
now becoming really alarmed, he opened The
bedroom door and looked IN, only 10 nno the
room empty.
who could not believe the evidence OF his own
senses. The bed had not been slept IN since II
was made. and there were some signs OF dls-
order and haste. but still nothing very remarSa-
Bile in the appearance of the room. But May
was not there, and with sort of inarticulate
cry, the Old man ran out barcheaded into the
village. and stopped everyone he met to inquire
If they had seen her.
s'Ha' va seen aught o. my lass?'' he asked
with trembling lips, starting eyes, ana slhG-
ing heart. But no one haQ seen leEs anu pISo-
emily some of his gossips gathered round hlm'
questioning him about Mays disappearance,
and offering him the rough, though kindly sym
patty OF which he so greatly stood IN need
when didst thou see her last, JohnT' asked
one old weather-besten crone.
Last night at O'clock he answered
hoarsely; 1--WE had bit supper, and then
dear lass - and here his voice broke, ''she
kissed me and went TO bed. -
'Ha' she been in bed them asked the
mo. it didn't look like it, - John was forced
10 admit and the gossips around shook their
Maybe she's off with the humpbacked chap,
they say is q grand lord now, - said one rough
fellow who had been listening, taking his pipe
out of his mouth to make the suggestion
But in moment John Summers turned upon
him with face white with rage.
Thou foul tongued villain! Say that again
an, J II knock thee to the ground!'' he shouted,
and the man quailed before his angry eyes.
NAY John, John, he meant ne harm!' cried
the women. but where can the poor lass De?''
they asked. ''She surely Gamma ha' fallen Ter
the cliff, sleep-walking, like Bob Johnson,s
girl did twenty years agoT' SAID one; VI
gone dement, and made away wi HERSELF sug-
gested another. That's more like it, calmly
limited third
weird chorus indeed was sung round
John Summers dazed ears, and every old woman
had something terrible to relate. One remem-
bered a girl setting herself on fire, and rushing
down madly to the sea, and dying there IN des-
perate pain. A second had dismal tale OF
poor lass murdered by jealous lover, VIII ose
dead body was found the next morning hidden
in a cave. John listened and looked from one to
the other, with whitening lips and haggard
ewes; and then suddenly breaking DOSE from
them, he started off alone along the cliffs IN
search for his girl.
An that dav ne wandered and all that mig hit.
taking no sleep, and the whole of the villagers
were ready TO help him in his search. At last
some of them went to the nearest railway
gtation, but could get reliable information
there. Several women had LETT in the night
train for the south, but if May Summers had
done so, no one seemed to have noticed her.
And if she had gone she had taken nothing with
her except the clothes she must have worn.
Some of the women when John was out oil the
house, crept in and up TO Mays room, curious
to find ont what she had lett behind. All her
dresses were there they thought but one, and
her last new hat and jacket had also dis
Il began to be whispered about therefore.
that May had run away, though no one dared
enough also, Gerard Brewster's name began to
be coupled with her s. They were known to
have been sweethearts, and the great cnange IN
Gerard's fortunes was also known, and these
rough people began TO say that may be May had
preferred gilded shame to honest poverty, and
that the old man was wasting his time valnly in
seeking for her.
Some hint of this at last reached Johns
ears, and when he understood it he lifted up his
hand and cursed his daughter if it were true.
And the day he returned to his work
broken-hearted man and aged and when any
one mentioned May to him he sternly babe
them to be silent. He went on in this fashion
nearly month and then suddenly he also dis
appeared from Scarley; and when the villagers
awoke up one morning they discovered John
Summers house and work yard locked and
closeo, and found that the old man had gone
away without word.
He had gone away in silence to seek his
daughter in London having sort of vague be-
lief that if she had really run away with the
young man he had known Gerard Brewster
that he would most likely find her there. And
the next few days found him wandering about
the crowded streets of the vast city apparently
without any knowledge to guide his movements.
But John Summers shrewd man, and by
dint of inquiries he soon learned the parts OF
the town that rich young man would be most
likely to frequent. The season was almost over
by this time, and for some reason or other John
took It into his head to walk up and down
Piccsdilly and sometimes went into the park,
examining every carriage that passed him as he
lid so.
afternoon he proceeding on his usual route
when hanson pulled up in Piccadillv Just
few PAGES before him, and a young man jumped
out and began ringing at certain door. In
moment John Summers recognized this young
man, the peculiarly Of his figure making him
quite sure he was not mistaken The door was
opened by a man-servant before Summers could
reach it, and then the young man ran into the
house, after calling to the cs5mAn to wait Tor
him.
There were one or two loiterers standing
about and John Summers at once addressed one
Can you tell me the nsme of that gentleman
who went into that houseH'' he asked.
DO you mean the young man with the
That's Lord Gilmore, and there's a
wonderful story about the way he has SUI
ceeded to the title; they say his brother
But John had heard enough, and the next mo-
rnent he rang the bell of the house door, which
he had seen Lord Gilmore enter, and when it was
opened by asked TO see him.
~ want to see Lord Gilmore - he said
The man servant eyed his rough garments and
general bearing superciliously.
81 don't think you can see his lordship," he
answered.
al must see him." said John, positively; and
the man was Just considering what he should do
when the new Lord Gilmore himself came down
the stairs of the house, fer he had in truth
turned to his rooms for something he had for
gotten, and moment or two later he found
himself face to face with the old man he remem-
bered since his 5oyhool.
He gave little stsrt, and his face flushed
deeply, but he recovered himself almost in
stantiy.
"Mr. Sumnersl Can it really be you in
town. he said. and he held out his hand, but
John Summers did not take it.
81 want q word or two with you," he said,
roughly enough.
''To be sure, - answered the new lord; ''I'm
in . hurry, but come along upstairs, Mr.. Sum-
ners; one doesn't meet an old friend like you
every day.
30 JOHN sumers followed Lord Gilmore to
the luIuriously furnished bachelor apartments,
which he preferred TO inhabit when in town to
the family mansion in Eaton square. No one
indeed ever went near the family mansion now,
for Hugh Clifford also declined to stay there,
and the house had been closed during the whole
season.
''This is my den.'' said Gilmore. when they
cd hsar Tor baA To-