The sea coast echo. [volume] (Bay Saint Louis, Miss.) 1892-current, 1893-08-05

4 the city beyond the Strand, Chancery
lane and Arundel street, in the last of
4 which | lived-at Weldon's, small
private hotel
On Sunday morning came one of the
thickest fogs of the year. Misled by
the darkness OF the midwinter morn
ing, was late for breakfast. When /
got down to the dining-room found
only one person, young man of about
Y my own age, at the table. He had ar
rived very late the night before and
was quite unknown to me. His appear
ance and manner attracted my atten-
ton at once. He was tall dark, good
looking, courteous. Several times dur
ing the meal, at which he only drank a
cup OF coffee, he seemed on the point of
speaking to me about something. He
was restless and overwrought. felt
strangely drawn toward him, and cx-
perienced a feeling of relief when at
last he said:
My name is Victor Crane. The
landlord here knows me. Are YOU
going to church this morning? The
: rest Of the people have set off already. !"
We were alone
My name," said, sis Marcus Fall
N had intended going to Newington,
but could no more find my way there
than through the center of the earth to
New Zealand
There is, = said he, "a part of Lon
don to which, if / do not find my way
In couple of hours, shall be dead
man before night" He groaned and
dropped his head into his hands.
ag No one could mistake his words, tone.
manner.
In that case" said I, "of course the
fog will not hinder YOU"
No, no.. said he, raising his face
from his hands. '0The fog will not him
der me. could find my way If were
blind. 1t is the place where the girl 1
am engaged to lives He turned his
pale face to the window and stared at
1t with eyes which did not see.
She is not very i'll, hope?'' said /.
No; not i'll; and yet she may be at
the point of death. If you have fin
ished your breakfast, and can spare a
few minutes, will you walk outside?
This place snffocates me-"
When we reached the street the fog
was SO thick we could not see the house
opposite.
4 am in a terrible pos itionp' said
young Crane. II do not know a man
in London but Weldon, our landlord:
and he is too old for help. MY girls
life Is in danger-in danger from vio-
lence.n
Good Heavens.' cried I. .'But aren't
there the police?"
The police!' he whispered, with a
swift glance round, and then look of
horror in his face. THE mere rurnor
OF the police would be fatal!-fatal!
Her life hangs on thread" He leant
against an area-railing, and wrunr his
hands.
In while he reused himself, drew
his hat low over his brows, caught nv
arm, and turning toward the Strand
said:
Mr.. Fall, under ordinary circum-
stances 1t would be inexcusable to
trouble you, stranger, with my af-
fairs But the circumstances are not
ordinary; they are extraordinary be-
" ~'r- " lfSS-AoA3 Ivy OAAA CAloul dHCO. Ou
are young yourself. You can sympa.
thize with me. If you permit me, /
will tell you how ! am situated"
"You may tell me with full as
surance Of my sympathy and assist
ance,,' said.
For twelve months, /" he began, ..I
have been engaged to Miss Folgate,
who is now twenty years of age and an
only child. He father, solicitor, is
dead. Her mother was glad to take
the position of housekeeper at Sir Ar
thur Pennyfather's town house in
Derby square Miss Folgate lives with
her mother, and now and then I come
up to Durham to see her. Mrs. Folgate
rs only nineteen years older than her
daughter, She is a woman of remark
ably youthful appearance and great
personal attractions, romantic and
painfully anxious to marry again.
For some time, j. very stylish and
faSsi rating foreigners count, be says
~ lsg