The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1895-06-29

and so bring Dick to serious trouble. 1t
was with great relief | saw that it was
ended
The highwayman spoke again. "You
have a lady in your company" he said.
81 must trouble herr
"Scoundrel!" said my uncle, angrier than
he had been at all. "Did you rob helpless
women also? Oh, but you shall hang
high !"
''Beauty,' quoted the highwayman-
"and am sure the lady is beautiful
Beauty unadorned is best adorned
must ask the lady to step from her carriage
a moment and give me the jewels of which
she surely has no need.
My uncle would have hindered me, but
| was past him in moment and stepped
out of the carriage.
'Your necl<let, said the highwayman,
holding forth his hand.
l took the pearls from my neck and
prassed his hand in passing them to him.
"Be quicll"' l said in a whisper "Where
is your horse"
He paused a moment. 81 saw the CLEAN
of Bracelet he said. 81 must relieve
you of that also"
Again oheyed him, but the fear that
others would come while he still stopped
foolng became more urgent. "I'm ready, -
| whispered so eagerly that | wonder my
uncle did not hear "Why do you waltz"
Again there was pause. He appeared
a little disconnected. "And | think you
are wearing a ring, y he went on.
[ took the ring from my finger. As |
in the protecting darkness. Take met
[ said. Take me!'
Again he was silent for moment. When
he spoke it was in curiously altered
voice and with Il little delighted laugh.
"Dost mean it, sweet? he cried. "Come
then :"
gave a scream of alarm-a portion of
the play we had arranged together-as he
caught me round the waist and landed me
upon his horse. moment later | was
clinging to him for dear life as we dashed
headOng into the black night and went
forward across the moorland heard him
chuckle as my uncle roared his Indignation
after us.
We ode ON and on through the darkness
At first my excitement was so great as to
render thought impossible. Moreover, the
riding was of the toughest, and had all |
could do to keep my seat But gradually,
as | began to grow more accustomed to my
situation, | was overtaken with a most
dreadful misgiving. The rider had hith-
erto seemed like enough to Dick for ! had
known he would do his best to change his
voice, and, as for his foolish robbery, it
was Just of piece with his natural love of
mischief. But now began to feel certain
that some impostor had taken his part; that
| had eloped with another mainland he a
common highwayman. Imagine my dis
tress. could conceive of no method of
extricating myself from the position. \
sense of blank helpleSsress came over me,
and | could no more than cling tightly
to the highwayman and await the event.
We had ridden some miles when he
suddenly drew rein and dismounted, land
ing me lightly beside him.
Upon my SOUL" he said, "here is a
pretty adventure ! Heaven knows that |
had always passion for the unusual, or |
should be still an humble usher in Bran
custer academy. But, tell me, what am
to do with YOU"
I suppose | had hoped against hope,
To find my fears were justified was a dis
astrous blow to me, nor could | make any
answer.
81 would not wish a drawer sweetheart,
he continued, speaking with an odd and
attractive perpleXity. But what have we
gentlemen of the road to do with wives :?
Why, sweetheart, you heard the promises
of your guardian. He will surely do his
utmost to fulfill them, and how should
| dare 20 to the gallows if | knew that
left you widowed and alone? trust
score Of maids would weep little if poor
| Jack Arthur went the common way, but
God forbid that any should remember him
at weeks end. 1t may seem that | am
ungallant, yet | protest do not like my
share in this adventure. Kiss me, sweet,
and then fancy am old and very wise and
take my counsel, which is that you permit
me to conduct you back to some place near
your home. And yeti would not wish
drawer sweetheart ~
And then, moved by the kindness of his
words and his pleasant voice, l lost COM
mand of myself and burst into foolish
weeping.
Sir" l said, 81 am altogether at your
mercy. | have done that which will
shame me all the rest of my days But
indeed | thought you were another-ny
sweetheart whom should have married
tomorrow.
| fancied he spoke less gaily than before.
/ Perhaps he had not hoped altogether that
| | would take his sage advice. "Ho, no !"
he cried, "then my good fortune is but