Waterbury evening Democrat., 1890-07-17
THE ATHELSTONS;
 OR VICTOR AND vAN0UISHED
BY MARY CECIL HAY.

ct Gsrard's feet but his strange, awed whisper gave me . new strength, born of my terrible dreRd. held my two hands through the window, and then, for the first time, he looked up-looked up with a long, steadfast, anxious gaze, which could see, though his face was untitled and the lights were dim. Then he raised his right hand-in which could see he held something dark-and took aim slowly and deliberately. A true aim knew that Gerard could always take, and my hands were ready. A light throw, quick and steady, and my broth CTS pocket-book was olasped securely in my trembling fingers.
 "Shut down the window, quick '" he whispered.
 And then he was gone. No explan- ation no farewell no words but those; and Gerard was gone, and all the world was blank and bare and dark to me. Yet, quite cautiously, could shut the window, draw down the blind, and close the curtains again.
 After had passed back into the fire light, opened the pocket-book in tremulous haste, and found it contained only one packet-a packet of money in gold and silver-and on the paper in WHICH IuS H6To "Ehpp6O BOuQ0 written lines, half of them plotted over. I knew the writing to be Gerard's, though it did not look like any which I had ever seen of his before so knelt down and read it eagerly and rapidly in the fire-hght, my breath hardly stirring as did so, and the paper shaking in my hand. This was all;
 "Magdalen, dearest, it will be best for you to leave here as quickly as you can. Can you go back to the farm, or can you - Oh how can ! adviseP I dare only leave it to your own guile less nature, and trust you to our God. I shall dare everything to leave you this. I dare even the terrible chance of maA- ing you Q forced witness against your brother. My darling, escape that if you can. In the hope that you have done so, I must live till Heaven grants me news of you. Nothing can save me, at the dock, Lima, If once reach it. The forged check was offered by me. Will any jury hesitate? Only you, in all the world, will believe in my innocence. A month ago-"
 out, and could not stay even to try to decipher them. seemed to know what they would be if could see them and did I need to be told of Gerard's inno- cence?
 There were no faerwen words and no signature but what need of them for me2 hid the paper in my breast, close aud secure then dressed swiftly and silently, and for one moment crept into Rachels room.
 She was sleeping beside her mother, quiet and peaceful, and 8 wicked envy came over me as gazed into her face. I left light kiss on her cheek, and then raised my head slowly and stole from the room. I had caught sight of my own face once in the glass, and it had frightened me even more than the other sight that frightened me tonight. It was always white and small, and al- most always anxious-looking but now my eyes were wide and burning, and my face was weird in it's pallor.
 think my footfall made no sound at all, as I stole down the stairs. The out or door had been left unbolted for Ger ard, so drew back the latch steadily and noiselessly, and left the house. The door was fast again behind me and was out in the sleeping street alone in the night and the solitude.
 Oh, what longing had to find Ger ard Oh, how prayed I might overtake him by chance for I knew, by an in- comprehensible instinct, that I must not seek him. Was he near me in the gloom2 Was he near me in the great loneliness?
 Praying breathlessly that might find him then breaking of to pray that 1 might not find him if it would be less safe for him then crying to myself, "What shall do?" Iwent on. Shrink ing into the deepest gloom that the streets held, and trembling 50 that often had to stop to keep myself from falling. I went on to find hiding-place; sobbing always, noiselessly and fearless ly, for Gerard.