The Wilmington daily Republican. (Wilmington, Del.) 1890-1902, 1893-11-15
WITH I EsIt NE1lIs
WHAT HAD BEFALLEE TARASs


Mere Lucas to learn the worst and end my
suspense, but fear unnerved me and made
me powerless to move or act.
The carriage drew up before the door.
heard Mere Lucas voice, and then Taras
spoke in reply. / could not catch his words,
but there was nothing in the tone of his
voice to indicate that appalling change for
which had been prepared What had the
men-Kayanagh' agents-done to him that
night when they called him to the door?
Had they inflicted such injuries as to de-
prive him of reason? That was the greatest
calamity could imagine.
He was in the hall now. Every word he
spoke was distinctly audible.
"Oh, there was plenty of time" he said,
1--WE had nearly a quarter of an hour to
wait before the train came in. The air is
soft this morning. Spring has come again,
mother. l will go in the garden till lunch
time ...
There was nothing in this to signify men,
tai arrangement; the only thing that struck
me was that he spoke with less decision
than of old, that there was an accent of de-
peDdence in his tone. And observed that
the sound of his footstep was not the same.
AT one time should have distinguished 1t
from thousand, now I should not have
known 1t for his. 1t had been firm and
light and quick, now IL was slow and heavy
and shuffling, like the step Of old age. Mere
Lucas went out with him into the garden
at the back of the house. passing so near
the room where I sat that heard the rustic
of her skirt. Did he need her support that
she accompanied him step by stepi What
had they done to him? Was he manned
for lifef
AS their voices faded away, suspense be-
came iptolerable. l stole cautiously out OF
the room and along the passage leading to
the garden at the back. Approaching the
door, perceived Mere Lucas coming alone
across the lawn toward me. She saw me
and raised her finger to bid rae be silent;
then. stopping, she glanced back, raised her
two hands and let them fall In pity and
beckoned me to advance.
went as far as the door, and there on
the threshold L stopped spellbound. Taras
sat on a garden seat on the opposite side of
thejawn, his hands folded idly on his knee.
1t WAS strange to see him, of old SO nerv-
ously active, sitting motionless without q
book, a paper or sketchbook in his hand
with nothing to occupy his eager mind, but
1t was not that which made my heart stand
still. His face was turned directly toward
me, and yet he took no notice of me.
moved forward-a step, stretching out my
hands involuntarily, and still he sat un-
moved and motionless. Then knew what
had befallen him-what those hired villains
had done that night. He was blind; they
had destroyed his eyes.
My emotion was too deep and terrible for
tears. / could only stand there clasping
my hands In an agony Of pity
The tears were running down Mere Iu-
cas- cheeks as she came to my side and laid
her hand in sympathy upon my arm. She
would have led me away, but shook my
head, refusing to go.
He will sit like that for hours,n she
whispered, listening to the birds 1t is all
he can do"
Silently l crossed the lawn and dropped
upon my knees before him, awestricken
by his passive unconsciousness, his help
lessness and the calm, sad resignation In
his noble face. In that sweet presence no
bitter feeling could enter my heart. But
when left him my soul was stirred with
vindictive passion, and a great craving for
vengeance upon the remorseless villain who
had wrecked the life OF his friend possessed
me. l vowed that Kavanagh should be
brought to account, that he should suffer
as he had made Taras suffer, and that If
justice refused to punish him then my hand
should strike the blow.
This burning passion sharpened my wits,
whipped up my tagging energy and re-
animated my courage. The necessity of
secrecy was more evident to me now than il
had been hitherto.
You will not betray me to any one in the
world'" said to Mere Lucas.
rs il possible, my poor friendf" she asked.
us it likely that should expose your mis-
fortunes when myself am chiefly to blame
for all that has befallen your Besides, you
forget that still love you, my dear. Nay,
will do anything in the world to help
YOU"
Gould l stay here!" l asked eagerly,
seized with the unreasoning desire to live
again under the same roof with Taras and
10 watch him day by day, even If / might
not speak TO him.
TO be sure, my dear, answered Mere
Lucas gladly. "There are half a dozen
spare rooms, and the master has begged me
again and again to have my cousin, Nine.
Leroy, down here. Who is to know you
ara not my cousini Why, truly you may
stay. Mile. Judith will not be back before
Saturday afternoon. That gives you two
whole days"
mo more" said, with a sinking heart.
why, my dear. you may stay longer IL
you thiuk it would be wise. But look YOU,
mademoisellc, Judith has sharp eyes, and
when one looks at you closely 1t ia clear
you are notso old as your gray hair. Aud
mademoisellc has feelings like any other
woman, so you can't expect her to lsok
kindly on you, even il she consents to stay
in the same house with you"
l saw how unreasonable, how impractical
BILE my ideawas, but for all that it was not
easy to abandon it. My heart was wrang,
not with mere womanly jealousy, but with
a sense of my terrible loss. 1t was dread
full to think that another had taken my
place in Taras heart, and that could do
nothing for him, nothing whatever, at a
time when woman's love and sympathy
were needed to brighten his long DAYS Of
darkness. And my grief was not lessened
by the reflection that had lost all that was
dear to me in trying to save him. At such
a time onecannot feel that virtue is It's own |
reward.
This was Wednesday. Ipromised that / |
would come again that evening or the next |
day and then hurried off, eager to see Mr.. |
Pelham and learn what chance there was |
OF sending the money to Siberia
My heart misgaye me the moment | en- |
tered the solicitors Office He was not
nearly so eager to get me into his inner
ofnce as he had been the day before, nor SO |