The Forrest City times., 1891-06-26

and finally comes to the first of the bound doors. Opening it. he stands upon the landing that leads to the other door by means of the small stone staircase. Here he pauses. l Is it some vague shadowy sense of l danger that makes him stand now as though hesitatingY A quick shiver runs through his veins.
 How cold it is" he says to himself, "even on this hot day, up in this melan- choly placer Yet, he is quite uncon- scious of the ears that are listening for his lightest movement, of the wicked eyes that are watching him through chink in the opposite doorl
 Now he steps forward again, and, mounting the last flight of stairs, opens the fatal door and looks into the room. Even now it occurs to him how un- pleasant might be the consequences should the door close and the secret lock fasten him in against his will He pushes the door well open, and holds it so, and then tries whether 1t can fall to again of it's own accord, and so make prisoner of him.
 No; it stands quite open, immovable apparently, and so, convinced that he is safe enough, he commences his search. Then, swift as lightning, a form darts from it's concealed position, rushes up to the stone staircase, stealthily creeping still nearer, glances into the room.
 Sir Adrian's back is turned; he is stooping, looking i'll every corncr for the missing prize. He sees nothing, form crouching on the threshold is making ready to seal his doom.
 Arthur Dvnecourt, putting forth his hand, which neither trembles nor fal- ters on it's deadly mission, silently lays hold of tho door, and drawing it to- ward him the secret lock clicks sharp ly, and separates the victim from the worldl
 Stealthily even now-his evil deed accomplished Dtnecourt re- | treats down the stairs, and never in- deed relaxes his speed until at length he stands panting, but relentless, in the servants corridor again.
 Remorse he knows not. But a cer- tain sense of fear holds him irresolute, making his limbs tremble and bringing out cold dews upon his brow. His rival is safely secured, out of all harms way as far as he is concerned. No human being saw him go to the ill., fated tower; no human voice heard him declare his intention of searching it for the missing trinket. He-Arthur had been careful before parting from him to express his settled belief tbat Sir Adrian would not go to the haunt ed chamber, and therefore he feels pre- pared to defend his case successfully, even should the baronet be lucky enough to find deliverer.
 Yet he is not quite easy in his mind. Fear of discovery, fear of Sir Adrian's displeasure, fear of the world, fear of the rope that already seems to dangle in red lines before his eyes render him the veriest coward that walks the earth. Shall he return and release his prisoner, and treat the whole thing as a joke, and so leave Adrian free to dis pense his bounty at the castle, to en- certain in his lavish fashion, to secure the woman upon whom he--Arthur-- has set his heart for his bride?
 No; thousand times no! A few short days, and all will belong to Ar thur Dynecourt. He will be Sir Ar thur" then, and the bride he covets will be unable to resist the temptation of title, and the chance of being mis- tress of the stately old pile that will call him master. Let Sir Adrian die then in his distant garret alone, des- pairing, undiscoverablel For who l would think of going to the haunted room in search of him? Who will even | kuCSS tuAl 0llS hlSSiou, HoNCSti portant, would lead him to it, without having mentioned it to some one2 It is a grewsome spot, seldom visited and gladly forgotten; and, indeed, what possibly could there be in it's bare walls and it's bloodstained floors to attract any oneY No; surely 1t is the last place to suspect any one would go to without ! a definite purpose; and what purpose could Sir Adrian have of going thereg
 So far Arthur feels himself safe. He turns away, and joins the women and the returned sporstmen in the upper drawing-room.
 .Where is DynecourtY" asks some body later. Arthur, though he hears the question, does not even change color, but calmly, with a steady hand, gives Florence her tea.
 Yes; where is Sir AdrianY asks Mrs. Talbot, glancing up at the speaker.
 -Hc left us about an hour ago. Capt. Ringwood answers. "He said he d pre- fer walking home, and he shoveled his birds into our cart, and left us without another word. He'll turn up presently, no doubt" "A
 Dear me, hope nothing has hap d pened. to him." says Ethel Villiers, who Is sitting in a window through which the rays of the evening sun are stealing, turning her auburn locks to threads of rich red gold.
 I hope not, I'm sEe,' interposes Arthur, quite feelingly. Ut does seem odd he hasn't come in before this. Then, true to his determination to 80 arrange matters that, if discovery en- sues upon his scheme, he may still find for himself path out of his difficulties, he says quietly, T met him about 8 mile from home, and walked here with him. We parted at the hall-door; I dare say he is in the library or the stables
 Good gracious, why didn't you say 30 beforey" exclaims old Lady FltzAL mont in querulous tone" quite be. gan to believe the poor boy had blown out his brains through disappointed love, or something equally objection. able"
 Both Dora and Florence color warm ly at this. The old lady herself is free to speak as she thinks of Sir Adrian having no designs upon him for Lady Gertrude, that young lady being en' gagged to a very distinguished and tit. led botanist, now hunting for ferns in the West Indies.
 Markham" says Mrs. Talbot to q footman who enters at this moment "go to the library and tell Sir Adrian hls tea is waiting for him.
 .Yes, ma ann
 N But presently Markham returns and 1 Sir Adrian Is not in the library.
 men try the stables, tiy every where says Dora somewhat impa ticntly.
 Markham, having tried everywhere hrsr H. tk.. 1