Rock Island Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1893-1920, 1894-08-11
CHAPTER II.
A HALT IN THE ROAD.

S11<1A IL
AHALT IN THE ROAD.
'Hou are an artist, said the man OF
the front seat Of the sleigh, turning
about that he might talk more easily
with the young man who sat beside tn,
pretty girl ON the rear seat lyon ar,
an artist What do you think of thc
workmanship of tlis?''
He had taken from an inner pocket q
small leather case, which he now passed
to his companion. When the young mar
had brought to light the contents, ht
held in his hand u medallion. set in 8
Jeweled frame-a medallion upon the
convex surface of which was craven the
attractive features of handsome WON.
an. The work was so delicate, the sitting
SO rich, the effect of the whole so ex.
qulsite that the artist involuntarily ut.
tered cry of pleasure
why, this is really admirable, La.
mar! Who is it? Where did you get it?''
The man ON the front seat answered
IN voice as cold and Unconditional as .
voice could well be:
''inaSInuch as this is the woman
whom l am TO marry, thought toler.
ably fair counterfeit of her face would
be interesting TO my friends. :"
The pretty girl, who had been admir-.
ing the dainty valuable, became, as he
spoke, somewhat pale.
"Oh, she said in constrained. con.
ventional way, this is Mrs Forsythe.'
Mrs. Forsythe, assented the man
on the front seat.
She is very pretty" said tho girl in
the same tone.
As she spoke she put the medallion
quickly into the hand of the young man
who sat beside her and averted her head.
Another CHOICE exclaimed the
man on the front seat in brisker tone,
glapcing at fork in the white road
which the fleet horses We're rapidly ap-
preaching. Shall we take the inland
road direct or go by the roundabout sea
road? We shall see more life by the first
way, but we shall have better sleighina
apd plenty of cold wind by the second
Which shall it be?''
Which shall it be, Ellen:' repeated
the young man to the pretty girl.
1T makes no difference to me-
Then let us have the sea road and
the -sleighing. We are in no hurry, and
little cold won't hurt us"
'Jacta est alea The sea road it shall
be"
Ihe slelShlng party was now within
eight miles of the city, the location of
which was marked by a vague glow in
the wIntry sky. Gradually the laughter
had ceased and words had become infre-
quent. The bells on the horses jingled
nerrlly as ever, and the rapid hoof beats
ON the hard crust came to the ear through
the biting air III the same inspiriting
pulsations but for all that it was cold
riding after SHUTDOWN along the sea road,
with the bitter breath from the darken-
ing ocean full in the face.
Every moment the fences and hedge
rows were becoming more indistinct,
and the dreary white landscape between
the observers and the fading streak in
the horizon, where the sun had lately
been, was rapidly losing ali significance
or lntelligibility as a prospect Truly
lr. Eustace Lamar had forgotten the
flight OF time in his enjoyment of the ex-
Vibrating sport, OF he had sad " miscal-
culated the distance. Not that .here was
anything to be dreaded in the ordinary
course OF events of a ride in the pale
starlight or under the mellow rays of the
moon. The road was a good one, and
very soon it would be well lighted. And
II the three pleasure seekers were a trifie
cold they could console themselves with
the comforting reflection that there was
cheerful fire waiting for them in the
agreeable sitting room Of the upperInost
nat at 20 Ballavoine place. 1t was not
IN elaborate affair, this abode of Julian
Maxey, the artist, but it was pleasant,
interesting and certainly On a cold night
like this very comfortable and desira-
Bile place in which to be.
Perhaps it was not owing altogether
to the cold that an unwonted silence had
fallen upon the occupants of the sleigh.
Pretty Ellen Maxey, the artists sister.
who sat beside her brother on the rear
seat, had dealt Q deathblow to the con.