Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1895-10-17

and haggard her once beautiful hair
was turned gray. The last two weeks
had aged her considerably: she looked
like woman upon whom myster-
ious blight lad fallen.
The dusk was settling over the land;
the sky, with a b1oodred haze still
staining the fading west, was grow
ing darker every minute. In the
dense purple gloom, in the pleasaunce
under the window, the grasshopper
was chirping a welcome to the night.
For the sombre masses of ivy which
clothed the turTetS of Oldfriars a
drowsy owl was hooting at the slowly
rising moon.
The rush of the river could be
heard in this chamber, but the wild
stream itself could not be seen. Lady
Penrith heard it as she sat there, and,
hearing, shuddered violently.
Heaven help me!' she cried. with
a passionate gesture; "am l never to
know peace again?"
She leaned over the broad stone sill
of the easement, and raised her bag
gard eyes skyward. Great banks of
murky clouds were rolled athwart
the sky, engulfiing the spot where the
sun had gone down. From out that
rising mass a flaming brand had ap-
peared, which, all zigzag, cleft the
! heavens for miles. like that sword of
fire described by Milton at the east
ern gate of Paradise. How calm,
how wondrously lovely, was the
! aspect of the parting day! How hot
and feverish, with bur- lng unrest,
was the anxious soul within her!'
'If I might only die" moaned Lady
Penrith, "before my boy returns"
! She swept the gray hair from her
! brow and rose to pace the room, but
! suddenly stood quite still, her hand
pressed tightly to her heart. Foot
steps had traversed the pleasaunce,
and had entered the house by the
/ tower door A few moments elapsed,
and they We're on the stairs-in the
! corridor-outside the door Of the
apartment.
Lady Penrith stood as if turned to
stone, her lips apart, her hands still
!
| Sir Ruy, travel-stained and strange
! looking, his blue eyes vengeful, his
! face as white as death, crossed the
/ threshold and demanded his promised
! bride.
Mother" he said sternly, with NJ
word of greeting, where is Alicia
Leigh"
With a great effort Lady Penrith
composed herself-summoned to her
aid a strength and nerve that was al
most superhuman. Her heart yearned
to throw herself upon her sons
breast. to cling to him, to weep out
her misery then and there in his
set features of Sir Ruy forbade even
the very shadow Of caress.
sit is-it is for me to ask you that
question, Ruy," his mother returned,
her back to the evening light. What
have you done with Alicia Leigh?"
He came step nearer to her and
grasped her trembling arm, then,
bending his head, peeped with keen,
searching eyes into his mothers
averted face. In an instant he saw
there and understood the dreadful
change that had come to it, He flung
her from him with something like a
curse.
And you would tax me with sin
| that was never miner cried the lad.
''Merciful heaven, l never thought
that you who bore me could be guilty
of so deep an iniQuity! What have
you done with my darling? Where is
! she, | say? Ever since ] left you,
mother you have maintained toward
me silence so unna tural, 50 mex
| plicable, as to demand the strictest
! explanation. | am come back now
to claim from your protection my
| bride, Alicia Leigh
| The mistress Of Oldfriars lifted her
bowed head and extended to Sir Ruy
| her beseeching hands. Her face in
| the cleaning was as the face of a
dead woman. But the young man
shrunk from those outstretched hands
| with a movement of infinite horror.
| Perceiving this, d cry of anguish
rose to his mothers lips.
she is not here Lady Penrith an
swered, indistinctly. "She disap-
peared, Ruy, the-the night you went
away. II thought-we all thought
i that-that-'
She ceased brokenly. She could not
bring herself to utter the bare lie.
Moreover, she knew, she felt that,
even were it uttered it would not,
alas. be believed by the pitiless young
avenger before her
The next words petrifed Lady Pen
rith.
well, 50 be it." Sir Ruy said then.
with the sternness of a judge who is
about to deliver ineXorable judgment.
And now-and now, mother, we part
forever. Tonight l go from Oldfriars,
never again, l pray, to return to it as
long as life shall last. l deem it an
accused house, most accused
house; it has become unspeakably
odiOus to me. I give up the old place
entirely to you, as a refuge from the
world wherein to spend the remainder
of your days. We shall never meet
again; we are as strangers hence
forth. | go out into the world to seek
forgetfulneSs; you remain here-I
should hope-to repent. The exceed
ing love which once felt for you, my
mother" the boy said. with intense
sorrow, the passion dying out Of his /