The Providence news. (Providence [R.I.]) 1891-1906, 1893-11-04
CHAPTER xxx.
THE MApNEss on FEAR

Icouldn't help 1t. IL was stronger than
], as the French say-that yearning to be
near Taras, to pass the house in which he
lived-the house with which the dearest,
the happiest associations Of my life were
connected, and after resisting the tempta-
tion as long as could, wandering about
the city with the endeavor to distract my
thoughts by looking in the shops. l took
turning down TO the river, and at the first
station stepped on board a Chelsea steamer.
us 1t likely" / asked myself. ''that
shall be seen by any one / knowi" Never
theless 1t was the hope OF seeing Taras, IL
but afar Off, that led me into this impru-
Sence, for, despite my disguise, / knew
hat was doing wrong--that was jeop-
ardizing the escape OF Gordon, the safety
of Taras himself-by exposing myself even
to the remote chance of discovery. Most
Of the people on board looked like Lam
beth folk. A gentleman was waiting on
the Temple pier who. In the distance. looked
like Kavanagh.
i shivered with suppressed excitement as
we drew nearer and nearer to the spot In
which all my fondest hopes were centered.
My heart beat wildly as l caught sight Of
the kilns beyond Westminster, my head
swan, and every object grew dim and in
distinct before my eyes as the boat crossed
toward Lambeth pier.
Prudence told .ue that here at least
ought to go below or screen myself, for
every man on the pier knew me well by
sight. But was deaf to every voice, blind
to every danger. / even raised my veil
that might better scan the faces of the
passengers upc.a the pier we were nearing.
Oh, IL Taras might only be among theml
If he would come on board, where might
feel his presence! There were three or iour
familiar faces close to me when we ran
alongside, but not his. / stood up and
strained my eyes as the late passengers ran
down the footbridge. He was not among
them, and that vain hope was gone. But
there was sSisl the chance of seeing him at
the window when the bridge was passed
ard could get an unobstructed view of the
house.
We passed under the bridge, snorting as
the funnel was lowered, and then as the
smoke blew away something seemed to
smite my heart like the blow of a great
hammer, for, looking back, / saw the blinds
of all the windows were drawn down.
Great heaven, Taras is dead" That
was my first thought, and then, divining
the truth, i said to myself, 1.-THE car has
conquered"
But this end of all happiness was too ter
rible to be accepted while any spark of
doubt remained, and tried to cheat myself
with hopes-as il mere belief could alter
the course Of inevitable fate, or hope undo
what was done. tried to explain the drawn
blinds by supposing a less dreadful calam-
.ty Poor old Mere Lucas was gone.
Eyes, yes," said to myself, grasping mt
this possibility, Mere Lucas is dead, poor
toulv'
Leaving the boat at Vauxhall pier, Thur
fed along Millbank, repeating this phrase
again and again like charm, and crossing
Lambeth bridge drew near the old house,
still striving to believe that my eyes had
deceived me, yet faint with dread.
/ could go no farther than the corner op-
posite the house. Its aspect of desolation
paralyzed my limbs and forced me to cling
to the wall for support. There was no sign
of life in it. The shutters of the living
room were closed; the blinds Of the win
dows above drawn. The bulbs Taras gave
me TO plant In the boxes on my window
sills the last week was with him had
flowered and faded. The withered blooms
hung over the edge. Even the foliage had
drooped for want of attention. At the cor
ner of Ferry street one OF the carmen from
the pottery was packing jars in his van.
Needless of the risk ran-for there seemed
no longer any need OF disguise-l tottered
across the road and In voice made weak
md tremulous by emotion / asked him il
he could tell me where Nine. Lucas lived.
Mime. Lucas" he responded carelessly,
still packing away the jars. "Oh, she's
gone away. She used to live in the house
down there as is shut up now. She's been
gone ever since Christmas"
"Does-does any one live there now9" l
faltered.
mo. Look here, missis," he added,
Strengthening himself and scratching his
head, you're upset my counting along Of
your questions. Here. Bill Wright" he
called to young man who was arranging
more jars against the wall. "hcro's party
wants to know something about Mime. Luz
cas-"
II only wanted 10 know where could
frd her." said timidly.
"She's living now down in Surrey along
with Mr.. Taras," said William Wright. 4
"IIe is not dead!" gasped.
II haven't heard of his dying. mum,
though know he was very bad before he
left"
My heart leaped at this. Oh, IL Taras
were only i'll there was yet hopol
Can you tell me where can lnd him
Nine. Lucas, Mneani"
II know it's Woking way where they
live now. Bettcrford thinks the name
of the place, but can't bc sure"
"Here," said the carman, ''run round to
the hoiiicc, old lady. and ask for Mr.. Kava-
nagh. lie knows. Hand US up them quarts,
Bill"
At that name recognized the rashness OF
my folly, albeit neither the carr nor
William Wright had seen through my dis
CAUSE.-THE reckless madness into which my
fear had leu me. Nevertheless within an
hour was On my way to Detterford.
CHAPTER XII.
ETpAp.CE pfcCOVEpY