Lewiston teller. [volume] (Lewiston, North Idaho) 1878-1900, 1891-12-10
DARK DAYS.
BY HUGH CONWAY.
CHAPTER XVI.

A breath of soft but fresh air came blow
ing from the faraway downs. l drew in a
deep draught; threw back my shoulders
and stood erect. l laughed aloud in my
great happiness as a comical picture, famil-
lar to my childhood. of Christian losing his
burden. rose before my mind, and seemed
to be the exact thing wanted TO illustrate my
cwn case. Yes the burden had borne hal
fallen from my back forever!
All! here is the spot--the very spot where
Sir Mervyn fell. 1t was here, just under that
custer of ragged-robins, l must have placed
his corpse, little thinking that thekind white
snow would hide it, and save my love and
me. Oh, how prayed in those days that
the bitter weather might last; that its iron
grip would hold the world fast until Philip
pas health and strength returned! 1t did
SO, and saved us!
where are the SHOWS that fell last year?'
All! should not rather sing. Where is the
grief of yesterday" Gone like the SNOW
Other snow may fall, other grief may come,
but last years snow and yesterdays grief
are gone forever! a
Nevertheless. that spot was too Suggestive
of horrible "reminiscences for me to linser
long over it! l turned away, and in NY
that forSave the dead man for the i'll he
had wrought May his bones rest in peace !!
| walked along the road, right on until |
came to the cottage in which. like a coward
who could not face his troubles, had 81. mt
those aimless, miserable months. 1t was I'M
tenanted. Half defaced auction bills were
in the windows and on the doorposts: for
some months ago the furniture had been
I ND -oI of t,a x,i,,I ,,
by which Philippa had entered, and felt
that since that night had passed through
more grief, passion, fear, hope and joy than
would fill an ordinary lifetime. THIN /
turned and shook the dust off my feet. Nev-
err again would come within twenty miles
of this place.
On the road back, to my annoyance, en-
countered Mrs. Wilson. tried to pass with
out sign of recognition, but she was too
quick for me. She stood in front of me,
and was bound to stop.
She was more haggard, more drawn, more
aquiline looking than ever. Her eyes alone
looked young. They at least had spirit and
vitality in them. IAey positively blaZed
upon me.
''She did not do it, after all" she said
lerccly.
At first l thought of affecting surprise and
asking her what she meant, but felt that
any attempt at equivoque would be but vain.
''She did not, | answered shortly.
Fool that l was"' she cried. Fool, to
be led away by an impulse! Why did tell
her? swear to you, DR.. North, that had
not felt sure it was her act, she should new
or have known. She should have gone to
her grave a shamed woman, as shall go!'
Her look was venom itself
''Remember," said sternly, "Iady Fer
rand is now my wife. l will not hear her
name coupled with yours"
She laughed scornfully. 'Your wife! She
soon forgot her first love. Why did speak?
l wish my hand had wtherctl before |
wrote that letter Do you know why wrote
it"'
mo; nor do l care"
II wrote it for vengeance She had,
thought, served that man as l ought to have
served him; but hated her for it, for low
ed him still. So thought it would be SO
sweet for her to know that she had killed
her husband, and for you, her lOver--I knew
you were her lover-to know thatI could at
any moment give herup to justice! wasa
fool. Why did that man plead guilty? When
saw your wife rise in court | laughed. |
knew what was coming. Now, ins5ead Of
harlning her, have done her good"
You have" said CURLY, and turned up
on my heel. The malignity of this woman
was so intense that felt thankful she could
in no way work Philippa harm.
A quarter Of mile up the road turned.
Mrs. Wilson, black spot on fair scene,
was standing gazing after me. hurried on
until bend in the path hid her from my
ciO L h,,rr lad hal Dali.
happinessl