The morning call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1878-1895, 1891-01-04

again?"
He held out his hand. took it. and so re-
seated myself on the clover-hillock; he
laid himself again at my feet. After q
little silence he resumed and told me a soou
deal more, only of his outward history Oays
however while what wanted was TO knI Nv
/ how he had come to be the kind OF man ~ ho
| was. But | heard nothing more 70 lin Liz,
the doubt whether | ought 10 H law n'ora nv
| and was loving him great ueaI t NO. ~
| the time he had done than Wheh ne oesan::
I then told him, in return, what my lie
| bad bitberfo been how l knew nothing OF
! father or mother now my une!e' ~ " Ia ca
| Whichcote. had been everything to me, had
Taught me everything, had helped me 10
love what was good and hate what was
evil. had made me know and love good
books and Turn away from foolish ones. IN
short, | made him feel that all his mother
had not been to him my uncle had been to
me. and that it would take long time 70
make me as much indebted to husband rs
already | was to my uncle. -,
"Shall / not see you again to-morro"
e' SYnFy answered ,'2 81 must not see you
again ill have told my uncle everything"
we rose. He took me in his arms for
moment. and we parted with the under
standing that was to write to him as soon
as | had spoken with my uncle.
Ny uncle Edward was in his room, where
| Immediately sought him; and ii did not
tell him everything, L let it be plain there
was more OF the sort behind. concerning
which he might question me.
SIS that eyerything?" he asked, with a
smile so ike all he had ever been to me that
my whole heart seemed 10 go out 10 meet it.
YES uncle" ] answered, II think | may
say so-eXcept that | have not dwelt upon
my feelings or their natural expression.
Love, they say. is shy, and L fancy Won VIII
pardon NE that portion, my dear old bach
eor uncle. ! was afraid you might not I'M
derstand me- Could any one, Go You think,
that had not had the same strange kind OF
consciousness?
He made me no answer. l looked up. He
was CHASTITY white; his head had fallen
back against the bed. L started up, hardly
smothering a shrek.
:. What IS it, unele?" | gasped His color
began to return little, and the smile which
was forced ut FIRST gradually frightened
until it was genuine.
u will tell you the whole story one day."
he said "whelher in this world | am doubt
full. But when Is nothing, OF where, with
eternity before u.s.
] left him reluctantly.
My uncle looked miserable when he went
out on foot and alone, next day, and felt
Il vague uueasiness about him. As evening
closed in dark aud stormy, tie desire aWOke
to be with him in his trouble whatever il
was. / should not have ventured alone on
such a hight, but | should not be alone; /
should have my good mare Zoe With me,
y NV EAA4NN 80 Wv NN1' VI IAtN III ASA4bOl
hood.
took my way to the stable and got the
cowboy to saddle Zoe | took with me the
little lantern l went about the place with
when there was no neon, and with this
allght in my hand we ddIted OF at a tight
refined gallop into the wet, blowing night.
What was going for l did not know, be-
yond being with my uncle. SO far was |
from fear that, bnt for my shadowy uneasi-
ness about him, should have been full OF
the wild joy OF battle with the elements.
But, alas. my lantern was out, and it was
impossible to light it again, SO that l had
now no arrow 10 shoot at random for my
uncle's eve.
We were going at a good speed. and had
ridden, as judged, about three miles when
there came great flash of lightning-not
like any Hash l had ever seen before Its en-
durance vas but momeniary. but its mo-
ments might have been counted. for il
lasted appreeiahly longer than an ordinary
naSb, revealing 10 my eyes the vision of a
man, PLAINLY my uncle, a few hun bred Yards
from me on gigantic gray horse, which
reared hiEh with fright. But for its size
could have testified before a magistrate that
had not only seen that Self-same horse in
the stable as mine was being sRddled but
had strOked ana kissed him on the nose |
conceived at once that his apparent size WAS
an Illusion caused by the sGddenness and
keenneSs OF the light, and thai my uncle had
come home before | had well reached the
wilderness, and had ridden out after me.
Immediately turned to join him, calling
aloud to him. But the thunder that mo-
ment burst with terrific below, and swaI-
lowed my cry. The same instant, however.
came through it from the other side the
voice Of my uncle only few yards away.
stay, little one" he shouted, 'stay
where you are. l Will be with you in a
moment"
l obeyed as ever and always without a
thought. | obeyeG the slightest word of my
uncle Out OF the dark an arm was around
me, and my head was lying on his bosom.
Dut, uncle, / murmured, full Of wonder
is it?" '-'''Ne' --'"
He answered in a whisper that seemed to
dread the ear OF the wind, lest it should
hear him.
81" You saw, did you?"
saw you upon horse away there in
the middle OF the lightning. ! was going to
you. don't know what to think
Neither do /" he returned, with a
strange haif-voice, as if he were all bnt
choklng; :" 1t must have been-I don't
know what"
lie took Zoe's head and turned it toward
nome. The dear creature set out with slow
lelsureiy step, needless apparently of the
storm and stable. She knew who walked
by her side and he must set the pace.
AS we Went my uncle seemed lost il
thought-and no wonderl for how could thu
| sight we had seen be accounted for o.
what might it indicate?
1t grew upon me that l had seen m,
uncle's double. That he should see his owl
double would not in itself have much sur
! prised me; or indeed that | should see it
| but | had never read of another person see
ing double at the same time with the per