Mexico weekly ledger., 1891-12-10

s51s
wandering thing that you choose to ap-
pear. He does not know the social dig
nifty that you might assume if you
would. l have been your only confidant,
and you will never have another. l
have been to you what no one else can
ever be. You cannot deny it, and the
only satisfaction left me in Life is that it
, is SO. When are you going to have me
arrested?"
THAT is not for me to say" he replied,
biting his lips.
She put her hand upon his arm. The
touch was light, but he felt it to the
marrow of his bones.
"F it is to be done, said she in muir
muir, "let it be done by you. could
bear ruin that came from you-but not
| from any other!'
"Ah, yes; you think l cannot do it,"
said he, scarce audibly.
sit is SO much to ask-for the woman
you have loved?'
He turned away and took step as if
to depart. "Go, then," she said with a
sigh.
He turned to her again. 81 am fool
and a villain" he said. Where can l
see you?"
"Come to me tonight" she replied;
1--WE shall be alone"
| That evening Garcia was expected at
the Bannicks' house, but he did not come.
His absence was scarcely noted. The
lovers had enough to think of in each
other. 'He has been looking rather
under the weather lately" remarked the
count. Il suppose he is taking rest. "
They intended after the ceremony to
take trip to southern California, where
the count thought of buying some land,
June, by which time the summer dwell
ing on Long Island would have been
completed. Here their estate extended
across the island, from the sound to the
sea. a region twenty miles long by ten
miles in width. The house was erected
within mile of the place where once
stood the hut in which Keppel Darke
had passed memorable night. The
hut had been removed, but the swamp
still remained.
The wedding breakfast was to be given
in the Fifth avenue house. Olympia
was to proceed to the church from the
/ Bannicks, and in their company, and
would there be met by the bridegroom.
Mrs. Raven decided not to be present at
the wedding. She would bid her daugh-
ter farewell at the breakfast, and would
take up her quarters at the Fifth avenue
house during their absence. These de-
| Co. Ill 1ol l.
April 80, and at that time the lovers
bade each other good night for the last
time. Thereafter they would part no
more. 1t was a happy good night; no
shadow rested upon it. A life of sun
shine lay before them.
| Olympia slept soundly and was up be-
| times. She was in an exalted mood; her
eyes deep with sweet reveries; she hum
med songs to herself in minor key; she
hardly seemed conscious of her surround
ings; her heart and mind were elsewhere.
Mrs. Bannick helped her dress and put
the finishing touches to her packing.
They were to be at the church at eleven.
Everything was ready by ten. There was
nothing to do but wait. Olympia had
been growing more and more distracted.
She looked pale, and her friend coun-
seled her to lie down for half an hour.
| Olympia nodded assent, went into her
room and closed the door. Mrs. Bannick,
a careful housekeeper, went to the kit
chen to give her orders for the day. AT
ten forty-five the carriage was announc-
ed. She tapped at Olympia's door, but
there was no answer. She opened the
door and looked in, saying, ''It is time,
my dearr But TO one answered. The
room was empty, nor was Olympia any
where in the house.
1t took some time to establish this fact,
but Mrs. Bannick was not easily fright
ened, and, though making every effort
to find Olympia, did not permit herself
to believe any harm. If she was not in
the house she must have left it volunta
| rily-so much seemed certain. The
apartment house in which their fat was
contained dozen other flats, at all OF
| which inquiry was made, but the hall
boy said that a lady had gone out hail
an hour before who resembled Mis-:
Raven. She had not come down in the
elevator, and he had not seen her face,
but the description he gave of her dress
made it practically certain that it was
Olympia. He had not noticed what direc-
ton she took on leaving the house.
Perhaps the girl has gone to the
church on foot!" exclaimed Mrs. Ban
nick to her husband, who was looking
more and more despairing. "She was
SO preoccupied all the morning she
hardly knew where she was. She may
have forgotten all about the carriage
and gone on alone. 1t is only few
blocks off anyway. Depend upon it,
Tom, that's it."
SIT may be-" said Tom. "You ought
to know more about your own sex than
l do. If they are capable of such things,
all right. We will go and see, at all
events. It is long after eleven, and il
your explanation is the true one the girl
must have been married by this time
and gone to breakfast"
"Oh, pray heaven it is sol" exclaimed
his wife fervently.
II am afraid the devil has been taking
a hand in this business" said Tom.
"But come on. We shall know di.
rectly."
They were driven to the church, but
had only crossed the threshold when
they saw that Olympia was not there.
The clergyman was there, and the bride.
groom, and a thousand fashionable spec
| tators; but the bride was-where?
| Tom had to do the most unwelcome
deed Of his life. He went up the aisle,
looked his friend in the face and told
him that Olympia had vanished: The
count had already had time to feel anx-
ious. He met the news like man, but
his countenance seemed to grow old and
haggard in a few moments.
"Where is Garcia?' demanded Tom.
| 81 haven't seen him this morning."
| 81 suspect him of having q hand in
| this. him. said Tom, swear
| ing out loud in church between his set
| teeth.
| Let us get out of this and get to
work." said the count. Tell the clergy
man to notify the people. There is no
time to lose"
He and Tom passed out of the door OF
the sacristy, while the clergyman, in sad,
melodious accents, informed the people
that owing to the sudden severe illness
of the bride the wedding would be post.
poned.
| fro BE CONTINUED,