Waterbury evening Democrat., 1893-11-17

!
forced witness of most painful scene.
The door between the rooms was open,
and as l approached / saw Portia steal
up behind her husband with a look of
longing ON her face. The colonel was in
tent upon his newspaper and did not
perceive her until she put both white
arms about his throat and tenderly laid
her cheek upon his head.
He sprang from his chair as if ser
pent had stung him. Turning, he con-
stern, contemptuous.
"How dare your he said in low
voice, vibrant with hatred.
ooh, Jermyn, forgive me! Love me
after all. lam your wife, " begged Portia.
Yes, have not forgotten that intol-
cradle fact" replied Colonel Marchmont,
with studied GOODNESS. Then he hurried
from the room.
Portia came flying toward me like a
whirlwind. Her eyes blazed. With one
clinched hand she struck at her heart.
Prudence" she cried, The will kill me.
But first
She broke off and burst into demoni-
acal laughter. Then, calming bit, she
continued: No, will not tell you, YOU
soft little mouse, what l will do. ,Ter-
myn Marchmont shall know one day
what he has accomplished tonight"
"Portia, what is it?' asked What
is this mystery which surrounds you
Instantly saw that look of cunning
spring to her face.
''Mystery!' she repeated almost gayly.
Absurd! There is no mystery. My
husband has simply wearied of me.
Nothing very mysterious about that, is
there:" and seizing me around the waist
she waltzed ME up and down the hall.
As soon as l could disengage myself
from her embrace l stepped back. But
Portia went on dancing. She looked
veritable Moenad as she whirled and
waved her white arms and tossed back
her dishevcled hair. She was the most
graceful creature imaginable, but at the
same time there was something both
grotesque and frightful about the wild
dance in which she INDUCED. Her face
grew wicked, her pastures audacious.
All could think of was La Carmagnole
or the mad tarantella of one writing
in a death agony.
For heavens sake, Portia, Stop |
cried at last
She only laughed mockingly and
whirled faster than ever
The door at the upper end of the hall
opened suddenly, and her husband APP
peared. The look of disgust that cross
ed his face sobered her. She stopped in
confusion and began nervously twisting
up her hair and arranging her draperies.
Really, Portia," Colonel Marchmont
said disdainfully, Il cannot admire your
method of entertaining Miss Prudence.
Your dance is more suitable TO the or
gies of Dead Mans swamp than to
gentleman's house"
1t was a brutal speech, and it told.
Portia stared gloomily after her husband
as lie went out upon the piazza, and
then, turning to me, said i'll an under
tone:
You heard what he said: Well, since
he sends me to the swamp, I'll 60
have work there, Prudence"
What do you mean:" l cried as she
fed up the stairs. But she made no an
swer. Only her haunting laughter fioated
down. heard her slam the door of her
room and knew that in all probability
We should not see her again that even
ing, rs it was the custom to take her
nightly leave in some such unceremo-
NOUS fashion
Nor did Colonel Marchmont return.
read an hour or so. then Went TO my
room. | heard his heavy tread later as
he went 10 his apartments, then silence
settled down over the great house.
did not feel like sleeping. Some
strange influence oppressed me. At times
| was conscious Of q premonition of i'm
pending trouble. Something was surely
about to happen. What was it:
1t was nearly midnight when | dis
tinctly heard a distant door open and
shut. While l stood intently listening
heard soft footsteps gliding along the
corridor, and an object brushed against
my door. Although had not disrobed,
] had pat out the lights in my room, for
which now was devoutly thankful, as
they would have been visible to any one
providing outside in the hall.
rs it BURGLAR" / asked myself, "or
a related servant" With every nerve
quivering like violin string l listened.
The footsteps Went toward the stairway
--yes-down it. Then heard the great
hall floor softly open and close.
Iopened my window and stepped ont
upon the balcony. followed it to tho
corner of the house, whence l could
command view of the hall door, broad
portico and garden.
\ figure was fitting down the wind
ing path. knew the graceful, sinuous
gait. It was Portia.
Why, where can she be golng at tins
hour of night" said. Then suddenly
her words Of the evening returned: He
las sent mo TO the swamp, and T.! so,
Tor l have work there, Prudence"
FASTENED back 10 my room, threw a
shawl over my shoulders, unlocked my
.lcal.. Stnla down tho Ia r. hall a.,G sta;r-