The Globe-republican., 1893-03-03

ture could endure no more.
She closed her eyes with a moan of
utter WEAKNESS and despair. Again
her senses glided into that fatal dream
land Of unreality. The snow seemed
destined to finish a dark nights work
by burying Edna Deane and the mys-
terry OF her fair young life beneath its
mantle alike.
Ghostly fell the snow!
Fiercer rose the wild winds, more
weird became the clogged, misshapen
landscape; darker grew the night. The
dainty form was outlined, first in a royal
robe of ermine, then q little mound
showed, then greater one. and then
only a bleak, level expanse-the wan
derer completely obliterated, as if q
part of the great spreading meadow it.
self.
And ghostly fell the snow!
CHAPTER VII.
TOO LATE!
Raymond Marshall had swept from
the presence Of Beatrice Mercer with
the Joy OF a man suddenly snatched
from the darkest depths Of grief and
despair.
In flash had come a full realization
of the true status of affairs. He had
been grossly deceived - his bright,
bonny Edna was not taithless! The
letters he had received were forgeries,
and the plotful Beatrice Mercer, in
spired by love and jealousy, had
wrought all the misery so happily avert
ed by his accidental discovery of her
duplicity.
Il will find her if search the world
over!" he had avowed ardently, buoy
ant, exultant in his faith regained and
the power of a love able to battle the
most subtle foe.
With calmness, however. while his
overpowering love sustained him fully,
Raymond Marshall realized that he was
at terrible disadvantage, in the dark,
with not single clew as to the motive
of Edna Deane's strange disappear
ance or her possible whereabouts.
A second visit to Miss Chandler, the
lady principal Of the seminary, resulted
in the requirement of very little addi-
tional information.
Edna's father had sent q trusted
had made it an express request that the
location of that home, the mystery OF
Edna's life, her true name should not
be made known. Edna must abandon
all her old friends. A new life opened
for her of wealth and comfort, but ap-
parently weighted down, or at least
affected, by some dread mystery that
involved the utmost secrecy.
Reasoning all this out, Raymond Mar
shall decided that he could do but
little except to await developments. His
anxiety for Edna's welfare, however,
irif
him to endeavor to learn what course
in SO swiftly spiriting her away to her
friends. He traced the carriage to the
railroad town fifteen miles distant, but
there the trail ended. Distance or di-
rection taken by the fugitive there be-
came involved points Of speculation.
For a week he hung around Hopedale.
His painting was neglected. His father
was involved i'll deep business difficult
ties, which at any other time would
have commanded his attention, but just
now he could think Of nothing but Edna.
He grew moody and taciturn, anxious
and then alarmed. No letter arrived
from Edna. He haunted the woods,
spots endearei to him by their past
meetings, but his anxious heart drove
him to distraction as the fear grew
upon him that his love was lost to him,
that either the mandate of a stern
father or the plots of the siren-hearted
Beatrice were operating to rob him of
the bonny bride to whom his troth was
plighted.
What did this girl know? Evidently
everything there was to know. With
subtle craftiness she had woven her
soft wiles about the innocent and trust
full Edna, until the latter had made of
her a bosom frieLd-an exclusive con-
fidante. She had tacitly acknowledged
to Marshall that she knew where Edna
had gone, but boldly, angrily, she had
refused to tell him what he wished to
know. Fully comprehending the girls
resolute nature, Marshall gloomily de-
cided that if she alone held the fate of
his ever again meeting his loved and
lost one that event would never trans.
pire.
Wrought up to a maddening pitch of
frenzy by the uncertainty and suspense
of the hour, as well as by a sense of
deep wrong and injustice, one evening
Raymond Marshall went straight to the
seminary.
Beatrice Mercer shall tell me all she
knows" he uttered fierceiy. Il will
plead, 1 will brighten her, but her secret
shall be mine!"
The browning surprise and disaster
alike of the eliminating troubles of the
hour was announced at the very portals
Of the seminary.
Miss Mercer was gone! Blankly and
dolefully Miss Chandler impaired the
information.
Gone? When-where? Beatrice Mer.
Ger, poor, friendless, dependent entirely
on Miss Chambers bounty and the
meager means that her position as SUBJ
teacher awarded her, gone? Abandon.
ing position which seemed to be q
life-lease for her?
Yes, she had made the sudden an
that morning. Thoroughly
amazing her friends. she had packed up. |
her salary. and had LETT |
without word Of explanation concern
ing either her motives in resigning her |
position or her future intentions.
To the dumfounded and suspenseful |
Raymond Marshall this seemed the last |
and most cruel blow Of fate. His final |
was swept away. He felt as
sured that Beatrice Mercer knew OF the |