Waterbury evening Democrat., 1893-11-03
CHAPTER XII.

and the first house after passing the
"Wheatsheaf." which was about half way,
and l couldn't miss it, as it stood just on
the edge of the common as you come
through the fir woods With this informa-
ton left him, and following his direction
came at last upon the open common and
there, standing back from the road, was the
Grange-its twisted chimneys and many
gables thrown into relief by IA background
of moonlit cloud.
The front faced the common Looking
through the iron gates up the yew bordered
carriage drive ! saw light on the lower
floor. | felt that Taras was there. Cling
ing to the bars of the gate, l gazed at the
light with such JOY as | think they must
feel who reach a shrine after long and weary
pilgrimage
l gave myself up to sentiment and suf-
fered my emotions to have unrestrained
play. Solitude, the stiffness of the night,
the slowly creeping clouds that mounted
the heavens, the feeling of unattained and
yet unattainable happineSs-all conduced
to this devotional ecstasy. Taras was play
ing the viola III that room. \ low, sad
sound reached my ear. 1t might have been
celestial music, it was so pathetically beau
tiful. listened in awe, not knowing that
| Taras played. and the sound rose like a cry
of despair, filling my heart with such woe
that / could bear it no longer and turned
away.
l found lodging that night at the
"Wheatsheaf.' Early in the morning /
left the inn to return to London.
It's little better than two miles to the
station" said the landlord, but you will
catch the up train nicely if you step out a
bit brisklike."
Anxious now to get back and learn the
result of the solicitors application to Mr..
s1yn I 7 81 H.,
bend of the road, that might not miss the
train. But presently the sound of wheels
behind obliged me to change my pace to
one more in keeping with the character of
a gray headed woman. The sound drew
nearer and nearer; couple of shaggy dogs
raced by me, and then, as | turned nv
head, the carriage ratified past 1t was an
open carriage; gentleman and young
lady sat on the back seat. She was on the
further side, and speaking to him; her face
was toward me. his inclined toward her in
listening attitude. They did not notice
me-the smile on their faces was unchanged
but mt the sight of them | stopped as if
lightning from the heavens had shot down
and struck me, for in that monetary
glance recognized both. He was Taras-
she Judith! | stood by roadside watch
ing the recedipg carriage in blank dismay,
till the curve OF the road hid it from my
sight.
What did it mean? asked myself in
frenzy of jealous terror. Why was Judith
by his side, smiling in his face Had she
taken my place, having lost Gordon? Had
Taras given up all expectation of my re
turn and made her his companion in my
stead? Had he gone still furt her than
that and made her his wife? That was the
more probable superstition. Judith was
not homeless, friendless waif, to whom
such Il position could be given as the sole
escape from destruction With the con
ventional views of her class, she would con
sent to live under his roof only as his wife
Where were they going now in that car
riage: To the station undoubtedly, and
thence to London. | might see him again
At the station if hurried. But did not
stir from the spot. The thought of seeing
him again with her cut my heart like a
sharp knife. | felt it would be better for
me if never saw him again Better for
him too.
suddenly it occurred to me that if Taras
and Judith were gone to London Mere Lu-
cas- would be alone. | might call upon her
and make inquiries, taking care to conceal
my identity and my purpose in case there
might yet be necessity for concealment
The iron gates were unfastened. pass
ed through and walked up the broad path
to the house. There was no need to assume
The infirmity of agony steps faltered with
quaking fear; my failing courage gave me
scarcely the strength to ring the bell when
| reached the house. Through the glazed
loors saw Mere Lucas coming across the
lall in response to my feeble summons
with ponderous step, her white cap with
he strings tied in broad bow under her
louble chin first catching my eye She
opened the door and or, eted me with "A
serious inclination Of the head her full
lips pursed up aud slight expression of
mistrust upon her face as she took in
my shrinking attitude and shabby appear
ance.
Ny back WAS to 'ue light. She could not
recognize me. and it was only natural that
She should receive me in that manner, but
the strangeness of it frightened mel was
20 used to think of her beamiug with kind
ress and genial warmth. Everything had
changed so in these past few months that
Z; return to the happy conditions of old
seemed impossible.
tried to recOl!ect the phrases l had re-
hearsed for the occasion coming along but
my memory played ne false. and after
stammerinG a few !ncohcTent words in
French and English abandoned the at
tempt to disguise myself in desperation
and cried in n broken voice:
"Oh. Mere Lucas, don't you remember
! me:"
/ She Shareholder lips fell-she turned me
/ quickly to the light and exclaimed:
/ Mon Dieu! II has come to this. You
/ gave rcturned?'
For a minute establishment beNTildered
! her; the muscles of her face We're agitated
/ BY conflicting emotions; then, recovering
her self possession, she composed her fea-
! .ures and with severe gravity told me that
monsieur r-as net at home.
Il know he is not" said. Il have seen
him. He passed me in the road. l did not
speak to him ! did not wish him to know
me-"
"One can understand that" she replied
significantly. Has madame come to speak
| 10 me-"
YES. yes. Mere Lucas" | faltered pit
eouSly,
Her GOODNESS and formality perplexed
me. | could not understand why she called
me madame now that had revealed my
B.lf My embarrassment touched the good
old woman. and she broke the painful 81
ence.
Monsieur is quite wellf" she asked, with
hesitation in her voice.
Monsieur" / echoed interrogatively
M Gordon"
Eyes, but it is a long time since left
him, and l have travelled long, long wa!
to come here, and find everything changed
and altered, and-and-" impulsively Civ
ing way to my feelings, sobbed-"and
am wretched and unhappy"
| rose and went toward her, and she
springing up, broke through the barrier o
reserve and clasped me in her arms, shed
ding tears of affectionate sympathy.
"Ah, my poor dear" she whimpered
we are wretched and unhappy, all of us
and this is no time to bear grudges on
against the other. My heart melted tn
moment you told me who you were, for
know how cruelty you must have suffere