The Providence news. (Providence [R.I.]) 1891-1906, 1893-11-06
CHAPTER XIII.

WHAT HAD BEFALLEk TARAS!
would have sprung up and retained
Mere Lucas to learn the worst and end my
suspense, but fear unneryed 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 I had been prepared. What had the
men-Kavanagh agents--donc to him that
night when they called him TO the door,
Had they inflicted such injuries as to de-
prive him of reasonp That was the greatest
calamity could imagine
He was I'm the hall now. Every word he
spoke was distinctly audible.
"Oh, there was plenty OF time," he said,
'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. will 20 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 iere was an accent of de-
pendence in his tone. And observed that
the sound OF his footstep was not the same
At one time should have distinguished it
from thousand, now / should not have
known 1t for his. 1t had been firm and
light and quick, now IL was slow ard heavy
and sbuffling, 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 sat that heard the rustic
of her skirt Did he need her support that
she accompanied him step by steps What
had they done to himi Was he MANNED
for lifeg
AS their voices faded away, suspense be-
came intolerable. / 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 faised her finger to bid me 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 stopped spellbound. Taras
sat on garden seat on the opposite side of
the lawn, his hands folded idly on his knee
1t was strange to see him, of old so nerv-
ously active, sitting motionless without a
book, 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 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.
Ny emotion was too deep and terrible for
tears. i could only stand there clasping
my hands in an agony of pity.
The tears were running down Mere Luz
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" she
whispered, listening to the birds. 1t is all
he can do"
Silently crossed the lawn and dropped
upon my knees before him, awestricken
by his passive Inconsistencies, 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 great craving for
vengeance upon the remorseless villain who
had wrecked the life of his friend possessed
me- I vowed that Kavanagh should be
brought to account, that he should suffer
as he had made Taras suffer, and that If
justice refuses 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 it
had been hitherto.
"You will not betray me to any one in the
wordf' / said TO Mere Lucas.
"ls IL possible, my poorfriendp" she asked.
sis it likely that should expose your mis-
fortunes when myself am chiefly TO blame
for all that has beialen your Besides, you
forget that still love you, my dear Nay,
Iw'll do anything in the world to help
YOU"
Gould I stay herey i asked eagerly,
seized with the unreasoning desire to live
again under the same roof with Taras and
TO watch him day by day, even IL might
not speak to him.
ITO be sure, my dear" answered Mere
Lucas gladly. "There are half n 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
are not my cousing Why, truly you may
stay. Mile. Judith will not be back before
Saturday afternoon. That gives you two
whole days"
mo more" said, with sinking heart.
"Why, my dear, you may stay longer IL
you think IL would he wise. But look you,
mademoiselle. Judith has sharp eyes, and
when one looks at you closely IL is clear
you are not so old as your gray hair. And
mademoiselle has feelings like any other
woman, so you can't expect her to look
kindly on you, even IL she consents to stay
IN the same house with YOU"
saw how unreasonable, how impractica-
BILE my idea was, but for all thai IL was not
easy to abandon it, My heart was wrung,
not with mere womanly jealousy, but with
n sense OF my terrible loss. II 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 a woman's love and sympathy
were needed 20 brighten his long days OF
darkness. And my grief was not lessened
by tho reflection that had lost all that was
dear to me in trying to save him. AT such
time one cannot feel that virtue it's own