The Portland daily press., 1892-09-16

init.
With final hand shake, 1ow-b reathed
blessings on either side, and fearful
eyes on that of the women, the pitiful
column and its grim escort formed,
moving slowly up the street.. And,
watching them with wet lashes 50 long
les they could see, some of those women
stood In mid street., unmindful OF wind
and cold, but with their baskets and
,coffeec ans alike emptied by the effort !, /,
/ I" ~ do for those dear ones What woman
Alone ih.her pity candof''
Just then the chime of bells broke
out, sweetly on.sthe frosty air, calling
sinful ones to- early church. But that
jgoodly throngof gentle wonenfhad al
ready offered up the incense OF good
decd at the highest. ltar's foot, had, al
of theS Blessehe EacraT
Enent Of love and pitying charity.
/ Bessie Westchester had fed to. her
home-to the. attic,esfnto aher friends
arms.
..tBrave, good Bess." eMfss Clay craeA
stroking tho dark hair with hand that
trembled strangely. "Esaw you speak
Ito him-give him a coat; almost fancied
you whispered something"
! "I dSdl Oh, Caro-, It was so luclxyl
yThe Yankee turned away; had a sec
ond to tell him about you-to warn him
about the paper
A.; stWhat paper, chiM?" Miss Clay's
isyes opened wide.
ssTheone leftsin the coatTpocket-t
one he. cautioned me was dangerous"
'tHs." Of whom ars~you speaking,
Bess?' IT..
! Carolyn, t11atacoats that warning
was given me by-s She paused mo-
ment, drawing back gently from her
friends arms and dropping her eyes.
But quickly she raised them again,
looking steadily in the others face, as
she said, slowly: 81 cannot ask for
what you left unfinished. I will not
surmise, even, against your wish, sohy
you considered him unworthy for my.
feet to spurn. But that coat, the paper,
and the warning, were given by
Miss Clay stood rooted to the spot by
surprise, staring at the earnest speaker.
But deep red flush rose over cheek and
neck and brow, as she cried:
''Thatman? They were given by"
"By him you swore never to name,"
Bessie Westchester broke in, gravely,
ssYou must have reason; keep your
word. It was Peyton Fitzhugh.
CHAPTER K.
BrTWEEN THELI
Mr.. Willie Mckee walked restlessly
up and down the bachelor rooms, spe-
cial pride of his friend Carroll Meredith.
Unique they were in decoration; antlers
of ten, hung with varied guns, fishing
tackle and game bags; rare stuffed
specimens on brackets and stands;
while the walls showed best reproduc-
tions Of the sporting triumphs of Amer
lear, and foreign art. i
But the younger man. was alone, as
nightfell rapidly over the cold quietude
of the city, four days after that Sabbath
when the, prisoners had passed through
Baltimore streets; ndiwith itSfell the
north wind, that had howled all day,
leaving the outer air piercing cold, and
presaging sharp, hard freeze.
Raising the sash, Mckee peered out
anxiouslyainto the fast-growing gloom,
then shutting the window with bang,
and sliirerfng, as5he muttered:
'tGrowing. devilishs cold! Why don't
he cone? His dispatch said five
o'clock"
He poked the fire nervously, lit a
fresh cigar, and threw himself into a
great leaEhern chair, thinking, half
aloud:
"Uml IL Peto.Aas come over, I'll risk
It tonight, without waiting for that
nameless adviser she trusts so implicit
". II this calm holds, the river will
freeze;, and THEN"
Brisk chatter of hoofs on the stones
without brought the thinker to his feet,
with the exclamation:
"Atlast, thank heaven"
=, But as he waited expectant for Car
roll Meredith's entrance, the door
banged, slow, heavy step crossed the
hall, and a stout, ruddy-faeed Irish
woman, with neat band of grizzled hair
low over her forehead, entered the room.
where is he, Mary?" he queried, i'm
patiently.
"He's rid aft, sor," the woman an
swered, ''afther lawn this note for the
,masther."
s'Was that not he?'
"At tn dhoor? Shure It was wan av
thin blue-coats, bad luck to 'em! He
fetched this: Wild dispatch from hid
quarthers,' he sid. I'd like to crack hss
hid-quarthers, be tn same token!"
With an angry TOSS Of ber head she