The Providence news. (Providence [R.I.]) 1891-1906, 1893-11-13

soft little mouss, whst I Will do. Jor-
uAys rfarchu.opt shsE Know ono day
wha, he has accomplished tonight"
"Portia, whst is it.' / asked. 'swhas
q tbs mystery which surrounds you
Instantly I saw that look of cunning
spring to her face.
"tiysseryi' che repeated almost gayly.
"A1anriI There Is no mystery. My
husband he's ymply wesricd Of me.
Nothing very mySterious about that, is
there" ard seizing me around the waist
sho wal,2cd nc MP and down the hall.
AS soon as ! could disengage myself
from her embrace stepped back. But
Portia went on dancing. She looked a
veritable Mocnad as she whirled and
waved hc- white erms and tossed back
her dishevclcT hnir. She was the most
graceful creature imaginable, but at tho
same timc there was something both
grotesque and frightful about the wild
dance in which she INDUCED. Her face
grow wicked, her postures audacious.
All could think of was La Carmagnole
or the mad tarantella of one writhing
in death agony.
"For heavens sake, Portia, stopp !
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 ap-
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, II 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 he went out upon the piazza, and
then, turning to me, said in an under
tone:
You heard what he said? Well, since
he sends me to the swamp, I'll so. !
have work there, Prudence"
"What do You mean?" I cried as she
fed up the stairs. But she made no an
swer. Only her taunting laughter foated
down. heard her slam the door of her
room and knew that in all probability
we should not see her again that even
ing, as it was the custom to take her
nightly leave in some such unceremo-
nious fashion.
Nor did Colonel Marchmont return. I
read an hour or So then went to my
room. I heard his heavy tread later as
he went to 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 premonition Of inn
pending trouble. Something was surely
about to happen. What was it?
1t was nearly midnight when I dis
tinctly heard distant deer open and
shut. While stood intently listening
] heard soft footsteps gliding along the
corridor, and an object brushed against
my door. Although had not disrobed,
] had put out the lights in my room, for
which now I was devoutly thankful, as
they would have been visible to any one
prowling outside in the hall.
sis 1t a BURGLAR asked myself, cor
q belated servantr With every nerve
quivering like violin string 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 the
corner of the house, whence I could
command = view of the hall door, broad
portico and garden.
A figure was Ritting down the wind
ing path. knew the graceful, sinuous
gait. 1t was Portia.
"Why, where can she be going at this
hour of night" said. Then suddenly
her words Of the evening returned: "He
has sent me to the swamp, and I'll go,
for have work there, Prudence"
hastened back to my room, threw a
shawl over my shoulders, unlocked my
door, stole down the dark hall and stair