Waterbury evening Democrat., 1892-03-10

When he awoke, the same sight pre-
sented itself: The room unchanged, the
silent figure in its place, the girl and
the dog still there. Thus the time
passed. 1t seemed to him that he only
opened his eyes to gaze upon his strange
surroundings, to receive sustenance at
the hands of his young nurse, and to
doze off again into a dreamless sleep.
But by degrees he noticed that the
wakeful periods grew longer, that he
had even vigor enough to raise his
head and gaze around him. The figure
on the other couch sorely perplexed
him. Who was this strange person
who lay so still that he did not seem
even to breathe2 It was not Capt.
| Campignon-that he was certain-for
the captains locks were raven black,
while this mans hair was a dull yellow,
and not all the disease which ever af-
flicted humanity could cause the sail
or's bronze cheek to fade to such
| ghastly hue. 1t could not be a dead
body which was lying thereP The
thought was horrible, and he dismissed
it, for he well knew that in tropical
countries very few hours occasion the
putrefaction OF all dead animal sub
| stances. .'''
Once when he awoxe it was night.
The lamp swung from its pendent ring,
but the girl and the dog were gone. He
glanced nervously at the other couch
and shivered as he saw that its occu-
pant was still in it's place. 1t was, he
felt, horrible to be alone with this silent
efigy of manhood. He cried for assist
ance. His voice sounded strangely hol-
| low but his'heart leaped with joy as he
| found that he could utter articu1ate
| sounds which weakness had hitherto
rendered impossible. But there was no
response to his call. Again he uttered
n low, pitiful wall. Would no one hear
| it? Yes, the sick man on the other bed
heard it, and as he heard it he raised
his wasted form upon his hands and
glared at Arthur Dunbar with eyeslike
living Jewels set in the face of marble.
''Who calls me2" he said, in voice so
! feeble that it was little more than
| whisper.
Arthur Dunbar, terrified at the ghast-
ly spectacle, made no reply.
"Who calls?'' walled the man, implor-
ingly. "Oh, for an English ear to
listen to my guilty storyl If l. could
| oaly speak to fellow-countryman Sir
Harry Grahame might yet be rescued
and my soul saved from eternal punish
| ment; but no one here can understand
word l say and I must die uncon-
fessed' .. .-.
As the poor wretch breathed the
whispered words he fell back on his
couch senseless. And now a strange
vitality seemed to possess the frame of
the young American. He raised him
self from his rough bed, and with tot
tering steps stumbled across the room
to the bedside of the unhappy man.
"Spealx out, man." he hoarsely cried.
"What have you to say about Sir Harry
Grahame?" ...,......
1t was sickening sight--one, a
ghost of his former self, so weak that
he could with difficulty stand, even
though his thin hands nervously
clutched the side of the couch-the
other, exhausted to the very verge OF
death, yet startled from prostratioa by
the unexpected appeal.
"Who are you?" gasped the re-
cumbent figure.
Zone who seeks Sir Harry Grahame.
Oh, speak quickly, or it may be too
late. What have you done with him?''
But though the white lips moved, nc
sound came from them, and, Arthur
Dunbar, feeling that his strength was
spent, reeled back to his couch, on
which he fell, quivering with the re-
r action of an effort which had nearly
cost him his life.
Presently his little nurse and the dog
returned, the former filed with re
. morse at having left her charge for the
r brief time that it took her and her four
I | footed friend to indulge in a scampel
|, 49, l,a y,,nAn1t~1,A
Thus week passed. Every day the
American gained strength and at last
was in q condition to assist tho girl IL
her ministrations of mercy, tending tht
dying man with solicitude instigateC
by the burning desire to secure hi!
secret as much as by human sympathy
= seemed futile. His was q life in death
The heart beat feebly, the -breatl
fingered on his lips, occasionally tn,
eyes opened and the lips parted a
though he were about to speak, but be
| yond this he gave no signs of ANNA
ton. From the girl Arthur could lear
nothing. She made him understand b,
: gestures that she was to wait on, hin
hand and foot with the docility Of
slave and that when he was wei
enough she would conduct him to
place of safetyA-at least so he under
stood her.
'oi One mystery to Arthur was wher
/ i the food came from that his active nurs
always had in pFeparatiop, and a stil
, greater surprise was how quickly h
regained his strength when once tn
fever had left him, for each morning h
arose with a renewed energy, whic
, promised soon to restore him to hi
~ pristine vigor. But he argued wit
himself if he recovered too quickly b
TO- would be called upon to1eave the spc
before he had secured, the sick man
confession. This would never do, so b
- feigned weakness and allowed his gen
tie attendant to minister to his want