Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1892-05-19
The GREAT RESPER.
TALE OF A BIG DIAMOND.
How an Immense Gem Was Lost,
Recovered, and Lost Again.
CHAPTER VII-Coutinued.

We separated q little before eleven.
The night was close and stuffy. had
no inclination to 60 to bed, especially
as had given Van Hoeck my word
to close the window beforehand.
There was reading.lamp in my
room. l lit it, put out the candle,
chair with book. Not g sound was
to be heard after the clock struck. I
read on, without moving from my
chair, until past twelve. From time
to time had taken my eyes from ths
book and listened intent!y,-not in
anticipation Of hearing the mysterious
tapping at my window, but in appre-
hension of it's being repeated upon
Edith's-and, as the last stroke of
midnight 1everberated through the still
night, l closed my book and
listened again. The silence without
was SO complete that the burning
of the oil in the lamp at my side was
distinctly audible.
At that moment l heard board
creak. 1t was so slight a sound that,
had my attention been fixed upon
the book, l should not have noticed
it. 1 could not tell where it came
from; | was not sure that it was not
from the floor under my foot, as |
changed my position. Instinctively l
looked toward the window. ! could
see nothing beyond the circle OF light
reflected by the lamp shade. 1t was
too absurd to take the lamp to the
window,-there was no board there to
creak waited some min
utes, and, there being no
repetition OF the sound, re-
opened my book; but I
paused with my finger on the page to
listen once more. a shuddering sigh,
like that OF a child who is crying itself
to sleep, reached my ear.
went to the window, drew up the
blind softly, and looked out; for the
sound had seemed to come from q
distance, and l thought it might be
the night was unchanged, heavy
and still, the moon obscured, and a
thin gray veil ofmist hanging over the
lawn, as Edith had seen it the night
before. ! opened the door noiselessly.
All was dark. l could see only the
mullion OF the bay standing out vague
ly against the grayness. | listened.
At night heavy curtains were drawn
across the head OF the corridor, shut
ting it off from the passage upon
which it abutted at right angles; never
theless, | could hear the stertorous
breathing OF the Judge or Van Hoeck
from the rooms beyond. ! was sure
that the sound I had heard was not
imaginary, and determined, ifpossible
to discover the cause. | went back to
the table and fetched the lamp.
had returned to where stood by
the door, when my eyes fell upon
something lying at the threshold.
Another step, and | should have put
my foot upon it.
In steadying the shade, my left hand
screened the light; as l withdrew it, l
saw that the object at my feet was
Lola!
She had curled herself upon the mat
within the embrasure OF the door.
Her face was toward me, and pillow
ed upon her folded hands. She
was asleep, yet her long, black lashes
were wet, and chung to her cheek with
an undried tear.
Given Van Hoeck, if ne could see
you now, poor child" l said to my
self, "could not think i'll OF YOU"
Would not awake her; | withdrew
the light until she was in shadow,
placed it on the table, fetched my
book, and seated myself where I
could read and yet watch the sleeper.
AS l did this, the clock in the belfry
chimed the hali-hour; l looked at my
watch, and saw that it was half-past
twelve.
I could not fix my attention upon
the book for some time, my mind
being occupied with conjectures to
account for Lola's presence. It
fitted in with Van Hoeck's theory and
warning in some respects, yet-possi-
bly, because my Judgment was biased
by sentiment could not believe she
had come there with any sinister in
tention. l was rather disposed to
think that she had found solitude no
longer bearab]e, and had sought this
resting-place to be near the only friend
she knew.
AS Ipondered, my eyes grew accus-
toned to the gloom, and | could see
dimly the girls face, her arms scarcely
distinguishable against her dusky
camisoe, and the darker mass Of her
red petticoat. She did not move. Ii
she had evaded her father, it is posi-
ole that she had fatigued herself as
we'll as him. My heart was stirred
with pity. and I resolved that when
she awoke I would try, if she would
listen to me, to reason her out OF her
savage isolation, and induce her to
accept the kindness that Edith longed
to bestow upon her. / would not
purposely awake her, for i'll sleep
there WAS the relative happiness of
forgetfulness.
1t was past one when again began
TO read. From time to time looked
away from the page and assured my
self that she was still sleeping. And
so sat watching and reading until
past four o'clock, when the light be-
gan to fail. my eyes grew heavy, and
unconscious!y l fell asleep. I was
awakened by my book falling from
MY hands to the floor. The lamp
was yet alight, but burning so dimly
that looking toward the door, l