The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1890-01-05
CHAPTER l.
VENGEANCE.
snow Ian deep npon the Ground.

IL
| several feet; it blocked up lanes and mid the
| aeld-gates and the hedges; it made traffic
impossible, so that trains were lost in it, and
/ men we're found frozen on the highroads
hut in spite of all its devastating work II
l still looked pure and beautiful.
But in the town-in London, for example
Its whiteness was Immediately sullied.
Heaped up by the pavements in dirty
mounds, trodden under foot by thousands
Of passing footsteps, it was soon nothing
but an unsightly thing-ar eyesore at
which people grumblei, foul and ugly as
the lives of many Of those who trod it I'M
der foot.
And vet it had been beautiful when it
fell. 1t would have been beautiful still if
il had fallen in soma country lane, far from
| the haunts of men.
Surely there is many human soul which
| owes its vileness and its degradation to its
| surroundings as entirely as does the snowl
. How white it was oncel What black and
ugly thing the baseness of man has made
Of it! 1t is not the SHOWS fault that it is
foul.
Even in London, there were spots where
the snow staid for some hours at least in
| unbroken fairness and whiteness. In some
unfrequented stree it lay thick and smooth
until the middle of the day; and if it we're
not swept away, or if storm came on dur
ing the hours of the night, the place would
look as peaceful and untrodden as the re-
notes5 country lane. Su had been the
case with a street in Whitechapel-a lonely
street, scarcely ever used as thoroughbred
because of an ugly turn at one end, from
which long, narrow, and disreputable
alley led into Mile Eld Road. Mill street
was never a very lively place 1t consisted
Of two rows Of tall, ugly, dilapidated build
ings. some of which were lodging houses
some half-deserted warehouses. Three of
the clearinghouse had lately been bought
up by an eminent philanthropiSt, who mad
begun operations by turning out every crea-
ture in the rooms, from attic to cellar. and
announcing his intention to transform the
houses into model dwellings for artisans.
Unfortunately for his intentions, the plan
had not succeeded. The wretches who had
once lurked IN the now empty dens made
their way to other quarters, and crowded
the already crowded lodgings in denser and
more soualid portions of the city. Respect
able workmen refused to live in Mill street.
because they said that they should lose their
work if it were known in what part of Lon
don they resided. Mill street bore too bad
character for them. So for the present
the houses stood almost empty, and gave a
lock of additional deSolation to the desolats
street.
in the autumn, too, there had been an
outbreak of typhoid fever and diphtheria
in several of the remaining lodging-hou eS :;
and these outbreaks had considerably
thinned the population of the place. There
was little traffic in Mill street, and when
the weather was bad its inhabitants pre-
ferred to keep within their homes, miserable
although these might be, rather than en-
counter the freezing cold or the driving
rain outside.
On one bitter night In January how
ever, when the streets were paved with one
almost unbrOken sheet of snow, and all
sounds were -bushed as if white pail had
been flung over the great city, two figures
could have been seen lingering in Mill street
as though the air were balmy and the time
a nj hit in June.
A man and boy; these were the two who
loitered in the shadows of the houses at
dead of night. The boy was watching
house-one of the empty houses, appar-
emily, for "To Lett was scrawled i'll white
chalk upon the windows and the door-and
ne seldom took his eye from the building.
The man turned his head aside sometimes
and seemed to listen eagerly, but he did not
watch the house. 1t would have needed
more than a casual glance, perhaps, to dis
CONGi lHdL n6 was DlluQs NCb SQCu was Gu6
case. He was a singularly fine-looking man,
with dark complexion and beard, broad
shoulders, and spare sinewy limbs. His
dress showed him to be clergyman; but it
was strange hour fer a clergyman to be
abroad unless he were summoned to the
bedside of the sick, and he bore no appear
ance of being engaged on any charitable
errand.
He stood in the shelter of the archway,
L l. IL
acted as his guide continued to watch the
opposite house, and occasionally to survey
the street from end to end.
The boy was rather noticeable figure.
He was short of stature and deformed of
limb. One leg was shorter than the other,
and he therefore hated in his walk the Left
shoulder was higher than the right, and his
head looked too large for the frail body
upon which it was set. He was dressed in
coarse, poor clothing, but it was scrupu-
lously clean and neat. His face was thia
white, and decidedly ugly, but it expressed
shrewdness and determination. The fore
head was puckered at present into anxious
lines, and the little dark eyes were screwed
I'D until they were almost invisible, as the
lad gazed at the windows of the house on
the other side of the street-now and
again doubling his hands and applying
them to his eyes like telescope in order to
see better.
A light burned very feebly in one Of the
upper windows.
The clergyman spoke at length, in hushed
AMI serious tones:
''You are sure he came this wav, Dickw
''Sartain sure" said Dick. Couldn't be
mistaken in Stoves walk-besides, he wore
the uniform
"And you think he has come to look for
JessW
Pm sure O. that, too He wasRup all
last nlght-a wrastlin' in prayer for her, he
called it-a thing l never saw no meanin'
in"
dick, Dick" said the parson, reprov-
ingly.
well. faint the sort of thing you ever
told us to do" said Dick, in a rather
logged tone; land as far as ever / see any
think of it, it seems to make man as saw
age as a bear next day. Steve was in regular
black rage when | saw him this norma, an
he showed me a big knife that he'd got, an
he SAYS to me, If | meet that man with
Jess, | shall do for him one Of these days,
Dick, know shall. for he deserves pun
ishmeM'n
II don't think he meant that" said the
clergyman.
Maybe not,n Dick answered gloomily.
But all | k iow is that he was walkin'
along Mile End Road when woman that
we know come up TO us and says, says she:
our fine Jess has got her man back again.
She's along of him in No. 20 Mill street,
says she, and you'd find 'em there together
II you went | see Steve turn as white as
a sheet, did, and put his hand into his