Waterbury evening Democrat., 1890-07-24
THE ATHELSTONS;
VICTOR AND vANQUIsHED.
BY MARY CECIL HAY.

"HOw would her evidence lniure you, Then Fitz repeated what Jet hAd heard her tell Mrs. Esdaile while he was at The AnchorAge, and vexed, in- deed, did the Colonel look As he hStened.
 "It would not signify if it stopped there," he muttered, "but she may have repeated the same thing to others. It may have spread all over the town by this time. I would have done anything to prevent this"
 "Don't think of it more, Col. Stuart" said Fitz, with change to great gentle ness in his voice, "and don't even try to help me, for you must see what 8 fail ure any effort would be. am ready for my trial, ready even for the verdict, as Heaven knows could not have been in that other trial. But, oh if you can help my sister, he added, with intense earnestness, "and will do it, shall be grateful always. If I only knew now that she was safe, everything else would seem almost easy to bear"
 "You hsEs no idea where she ii, then2"
 "Indeed, no. I nave not seen her since this morning, when she promised to come here again at dusk. Lady Ath- elston was out for the day, she said, and ner tune was her own.
 "And she evidently came," said the Colonel; "and. asyou were away, she fol- lowed you to the valley; From the tarn shewas lost sight of. Twas glad, spendir, truly glad, for had been in real fear lest we should find her at High Athel. ston, She has acted with the deepest wisdom-eonsoiously or unconsciously."
 "Thank GodI murmured Fitz. l "Don't be anxious about her." com tinued Col. Stuart, kindly. "H she does return, you may rely upon my gladly helping and cheering her in every way have the power to do. Depend on this through all, Spendir."
 0She can hardly miss my protection, said Fitz, sadly; "what good has it ever been to her? Yet how differently we had planned-and dreamed of-her life and mineI"
 "And, beside my ready, willing help, always at her service. !" the Colonel continued, a little huskiIy, "you may depend on Miss Castillain 's-Miss Mar jorie Castillain's. Her deepest sym pathy is with your sister-and with you. !"
 "Did she say it2" inquired the young man, his beautiful eyes taking their old warmth, and the dusky color rising in his cheeks.
 "Indeed she did, " replied the Colonel. looking away from his companion, and speaking with new and great pity in his tones. 1T will tell you her own words. Spendir-of course will, for she spoke them for you I am only her messenger. Tell him, she said, that you have offered to tell ehis story, but that will not listen until he wishes me to hear it. Tell him that. not knowing one single word of it, trust him as i'm. plicitIy as I trust Lima and as I shall trust her all through her absence. Tell him shall never cease trying to helI him as far as my little power goes, and shall hone to be bis friend, and his sisters friend, all my life. TefI him never shall think of him except as I've thought of him all through this sum mer, while I've seen him working al ways hard and earnestly among us, al. ways brave through ridiculs, and un complaining through privation. Tel him shall never rest until know Lini Chester to be happy and safe; and thii because she has. by her own real good ness, won my love, and cannot take i back ever, or let it lie idle and unhelp ful. Tell him all this, while don . know his story or hers, yet while l trus and respect them both entirely. An( tell him I never can think of Eustac Jeffrey except as the wicked man know him-I, best of all, though h cannot understand that-and that I d. not think him dead. That was her mes 2 sage, Spendir, and have remembere, every word"
 Fitz was standing agains. the chimney piece, his face hidden, his chest heavini quickly. Without looking up, tn Colonel spoke on, following his owl 7 thoughts.
 "We all know Eustace Jeffrey noV too we'll, he said, "to doubt his powe of dissembling but think Miss Cat s tillain has cause to know him best. e1 d cept, of course, yourself andyoursister. = "Col. Stuart" said Fitz, turnin slowly, and speaking with intense, suI pressed emotion, "will you tell Mia Marjorie our story Magdalen's an y mine-and will you wait and listen one chapter which have never spoke of until this evening, when told it to Sir Neil Athelston 2"
 !, Quietly now, the young man relate le the story which had been told in hei and scorn few hours before. And th Colonel answered not one word-not or single word-but he just laid his han on that of the nameless artist, the r
 turned convict, the homicide; an grasped 1t so closely and tightly tn Fits Spendir knew this meant far mol at than a good-hy,
 The two men walked down the garde
 together and parted at the gate. The
 Fitz stood there few minutes, alone
 the darkness and the silence, for tl storm which had risen three hours befol
 among the hills had lulled. Present
 that silence was broken by voices ar
 footsteps. They were coming, then,
 last and Fitz was conscious of feeliI V, almost of relief, until there broke upC Y his ear the raised, cold voice of Dorc
 Cheere.
 "Yes, that's the cottage; next
 mine, more's the shame and pity c were the words he heard" and it's D. good thing that you've come to take hi
 tonight should have been frighten'
 enough to be near him through apoth
 night and darkness. Goodness kno'