The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1892-10-20

! oOuy S1uSUllIloSS LOOKED OUT from CQe
luXuriance OF Judge Emerson's brown
stone mansion.
Meanwhile the two little children,
clinging closely to one another for
warmth, We're sitting in the angle OF a
brick archwa y, where the moonlight
| streamed in white and freezing on the
| December night.
'Guido," said the little girl in soft
Italian accents, "what did the cross
man say to you?"
"He told us to go away or he would
put us in prison." said the boy, an
swering in her own tongue. "Frances-
ca, are you very cold?"
ooh, yes; very. Cannot we 60 home,
Guido?'
MOI" He shook his head resolute-
ly. "The woman said she would kill
us If we came back; without money
and nobody would give me money.
Here's my coat, Francesca; it's thin
and ragged, but"
He tied the sleeves around his little
sisters throat as he paused.
care you warm now"
"No-but come close to me, Guido"
The two child-faces, white and pinch
ed, turned upward to the starry con-
cave OF heaven-what q study they
would have been to the wiseacres
that believe that "Whatever is, is
right"
"Guido, do you see that great,
bright star, like an eye of gold? Is it
in heaven?"
"Isuppose So" said Guido, thought
fully.
10 you believe it is warm in heav-
en-, Guido?'
:"rhe priest says it is always sum-
mer there, Francesca"
ooh, l wish we were there! am so
cold-so cold!"
Don't cry, Francesca-the tears
are turning ice on your cheek. Come
closer, closer still. We can 60 to sleep,
and perhaps it will be warmer when
we wake up"
And so, sweeter than the breath Of
lotos islands, more soothing than the
ripple OF golden waters over drowsy
sands, the fatal sleep came down upon
the two little ones close elapsed in
each others arms in the icy moon
light Of the golden eye OF little Fran
cesca's ''great bright STAR watched
them with tireless light-one OF
heavens sentinels.
x
81 think I've found the clew at last,
judge"
The shrewd-lo oking detective pulled
his fur collar over his crimson ears
with a jerk as Judge Emerson walked
by his side through the foul, narrow
turning OF an obscure down town
street.
"Mind, I don't hold out any hopes
for certain-I only say 1 think we're
on the ri ht scent at last"
''How did you discover it?"
"Well, it was in one OF those emf
grant boarding-houses-this is the
very place."
The officer walked upstairs and
through the dark entry, with the air
OF man who was entirely accustomed
to this sort OF place, and opened a.
door at the end of the passage.
Don't run away, Mother Hutchings
its only l."
An old crone rose hurriedly from
her seat over q few smoldering Goals
rubbing her withered hands obseuui-
ously together.
"Pm sure anything I could do, gen.
tlemen-"
II want the effects belonging to
Charles Buckingham Emerson, who
died November 8, his passage out
nom Palermo"
''Died on the passage OUT"
The Judge grew pale and staggered
as if he had been shot to the heart.
"1've made mistake" thought
the detective, who was apt to forget
that people ever had hearts. II
should have prepared him."
The woman, apparently quite
aware that evasion and denial would
be alike Improbable, went to q mol
dy old mattress in toe corner and
fumbled beneath it, bringing out q
rudely tied parcel.
"They came to me honestly; the
captain lett the children here, and then
was to pay their expenses"
"Left what children?"
"Mr. Emerson's
"Was there no mother?"
"rhe Captain said she died in Paler-
mo-"
The old woman had answered these
questions with subdued meekness;
but her eyes glittered as the detective
slowly undid the parcel.
Very few relics appeared-onlya
pair of furnished gold sleeve buttons;
q few articles OF dress and a. picture
minus it's frame. %-. - -
'"The frame warn't of no conse.
quence, s'pose," said the old wo-
man alphabetically. "Ipawned it to
get a new coat for the dear little boy"
Judge Emerson had taken the pic
ture in his trembling hands. Through
the tremulous mist Of tears he could
see the beloved features Of the son
who was lost to him forever.
"And the children?" he gasped.
"Dear little things" whined the old
hag; 81 sent 'em out on little errand
-Betsey, what are you hangin' round
for?-and thy hain't got back yet"
She busted herself with rearrangine
the charred brands of wood as she
| talked. Through all the discussion
her eyes had never fairly been raised
to the faces of her interlocutors.
! Every WE'LL" said the Officer, 81