Evening capital journal. (Salem, Or.) 1888-1893, 1892-08-27

10 3 not q shadow upon her mind.
To ne sure ! thought l could see
SIGNS of preoccupation in her man.
ner, as If Mr.. Bangs conversation
were rot tho only thing she desired
in t.lis life But then l had had pain.
full expo ience of Mr.. Bangs posi-
bilities asa bore, and did not won
der at Helen Jamison's attention oc-
casionally wandering from his stream
of small talk.
Wonder if this quarrel between
Arthur and Miss Jamison is az Sc
rious as he seems to think, y ! solilo-
quized as, after delivering my part
ner into the care of her brother, /
strolled up into the gallery and sat
by myself to gather strength for a
waltz for which ] had booked myself
with VIGOROUSLY vigorous dancer
Il am sure she does not care anything
for Sam Bangs. L guess it is only a
lovers quarrel, and that she and
Arthur will be all right in the course
of few days"
AS / made this philosophical rehec-
ton / glanced carelessly in the di-
rection of the stage. The musicians
were sitting quietly in their bower
of foliage, turning over the leaves of
their music and occasionally start
ling tie company with fugitive toots
of few bars where they did not feel
quite sure of passage, or giving
violinist an "a, in a brotherly de-
sire that his instrument should be in
perfect tune.
But what is this9 Yes, surely
Helen Jamison sitting in the little
arbor near the stage, where Arthur
Macgregor took up his position on
our first entrance Ealf hidden by
the dropping fronds of the palms,
she is looking around the hall, appar-
emily for somebody. Perhaps for
Sam Bangs, who. III ms dress as a
Revolutionary soldier, is wandering
feebly over the floor, evidently wish
ing that he had not come in a cos
tune wherein the trousers are cut off
at the knees.
MOI This is the person she wanted
to see. can tell that by her uncon-
cerned manner, as Ar5hur Macgregor
stalks up to the arbor, and after
standing at the entrance for a few
seconds, doffs his blue bonnet and
enters.
From where l am sitting I can see
into the arbor, though The two occu-
pants are concealed from nearly ev-
erybody in the hall by the palms
and flowers. She is seated in chair
facing me. He draws another in
front of her, with his back to me. AS
he sits down | see the white on the
hilt of the skene-dhu cleaning in
a ray of light that streams through
the foliage, and think involuntarily
of the tradition associated with the
knife in the Macgregor family.
II wish could hear what they are
saying" say to myself. II should
Aot like to be an e;.vesdropper, but /
am afraid of Arthur when he gets
into one of those terrible moods of
his. In his jealous frenzy he might
even kill that girl"
l can see the large fan of Miss
Jamison languidly waving to and fro
as she apparently listens to what Ar
thur is saying There is no doubt
that he is desperately in earnest. His
gestic dlations show that How that
gentle movement of the fan must
chafe himl If l could only see their
faces | do not know whether they
are quarreling or not Now he leans
forward and takes her hand. She
snatches it away The fan stops
waving. see him bring his fist down
on his knee, and them
The skene-dhul
Like flash his fingers fly to the
hilt of the "black knife" see the
white eye glistening in his murder
GUS hand as he raises the weapon
over the head of the helpless girl,
and then / suddenly regain control
of my paralyzed limbs
I rush wildly down the stairs, half
a dozen at a time, and fly along the
hall toward the little arbor where a
fearful tragedy is being enacted in
the very midst of a festive gather
ing. l get hasty glimpse of people
staring at me in open mouthed sur
prise, of young men bestowing ON
me supercilious grin, of promenad- |
ing couples moving hastily out of my
path. hear the young men and the |
couples asking each other what is
the matter with me- But take no |
heed
All l can see is the skene-dhu.
The terrible blade is still in his up,
lifted hand, while the girl sits quite
still, evidently too frightened to
move. | hear her voice saying some
thing in low, broken accents. Then
he hourishes the knife to make the
death stab deep and sure.
/ reach the arbor. Another sec
ond and my hand will clutch his
arm.
Too latel
The glittering steel comes down
like flash of lightning turns
into a fan.
There is burst of silvery laughter
from Miss Jamison as she takes the
fan from his hand and says: THANK
you, Arthur. 1t is a very pretty
present You know my weakness
for curiosities in fans. Twill use this
70 kill off all the bores of my ac-
luaintance,