The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1895-12-12
THE WHEEL OF FATE,
The Old Tack puncturIng Yarn In a Foru
of Startling and Thrilling Romance.

'Grammercy!" quoth Baron d'Agin-
/ court, as he rolled off his bicycle into
II potato bed, it's full-mettled steed!
Methinks those varlets have fed him
with ovsrmuch oil of late, so FESTIVE
is he become. And, lack-a-day My
doublet is besmirched with mire! Thou
smilest, l see, Agatha. There is bue
scant reason for merriment, shameless
grill"
May" replied the beautiful Lady
Agatha, as with exquisite skill she rode
her dainty steed "a thoroughbred Gov
entry up and down the terrace, twas
not at thy mishap, dear father! Of
truth thou must be sorely bruised.
Was not that thy seventh fall this aft
crnoon? If L smile, it's but that am
happy"
"Humph!" said the baron, as he
hoped painfully behind his machine,
vainly endeavoring to mount anew.
Happy, CHI? And wherefore? Whom
hast thou seen to change thy mood so
since this morning? Twas but few
hours ago that thou vast weeping over
some trifle of a split oil can. Ah am
up at last!"
Il have seen none," said the !ove'u
maiden, with blushing cheeks; Eat
least, save only" She hesitated,
doubtfully.
Whom, girl?" insisted her father.
'Sir Algernon Fitzclarence."
With a desperate swerve the baron
rode toward her, his face purple with
passion.
What, thou hast chosen to disobey
me again? Talking with him whom
had forbidden to come within 20
leagues of nay castle! Now, by st.
HUMBER, both thou and he shan rue
this day! l say that"
The baron's skill failed him once
| more, and he was shot off into the
gooseberry bushes.
"Nay, hear me, dear father"
Cease" roared the angry baron.
"What no, there. Lead the Lady
Agatha" he commanded, as 20 men
| rushed forward in answer to his sum
mons, into the upper dungeon. And,
varlets, bring me the sticking plaster"
Twas midnight. Alone in the dis
NAL cell to which her fathers cruelty
had consigned her Lady Agatha
wept increasingly. Sleep came not to
her wea'y eyes; she paced restlessly up
and down or gazed through the narrow
bars of the window over the moonlit
landscape.
Suddenly she started Was it fancy?
Nay, twas a human voice, manly, reso-
pant and strong. that sang beneath her
window. She could catch some of the
words:
- o sweetest blossom of the lea,
o daintiest flower of the field.
For love, for hopeless love of thee
My reason must her kingdom yield"
Good heavens, 1t was AIgernon Fitz-
clarence
. Across the land, across the main,
A single steed shall bear US twain"
He was ascending by LADDER His
face appeared at the Window
"Ah, darling Agatha" he said, news
was brought me of thy periloIs state!
But dry thy tears, my sweet! See
lLC ppCu DStlS WIFI OIIG
little finger of his left hand-"the cage
is broken. Two of the swiftest Singers
are saddled for us at the castle gate.
Let us fly together!"
Noiselessly the gallant steeds fitted
along the road.
''Were't not best to light our lamps? ?"
whispered Agatha. "Methinks that
the sage councillors of the parish"
Nay, fear them not" said the in
trepid Fitzclarence. Enough for me
is the light of thine eyes"
Suddenly their steeds slackened pace
simultaneously, and faint kissing
sound was heard. They looked at one
another and groaned.
1--WE arc punctured!" cried Agatha.
1t was too true. At the foot of a steep
hill they dismounted, their tires flabby,
shapeless, useless. Fitzclarence passed
his hand over the ground.
''As thought" he said, bitterly, "'tis
thy father that hath contrived this!
He hath scattered tin lacks broadcast
over the road to foil our attempt to es-
cape! But we will battle him."
For some minutes he worked his air
pumps in silence. Suddenly sound
was heard at which Agatha grew death
ly pale. 1t was the clear resonant note
of a bicycle bell!
1--WE sre pursued" she cried. Let
us fly, Algernon."
1--WE cannot" said her practical lover,
1.-THE tires are almost empty. We can
but meet our doom bravely!"
Louder and louder came the noise of
whirring wheels. Then--a whir, and
the baron, breathless. pale with terror,
went by them like a fash of lightning!
Fitzclarence understood in a moment
what had happened. The baron was
but an unsliillful rider, and had allowed
his machine to run away with him
down the hill!
To stop him was impossible. He went
along the highway for 321a miles, and
then, with a last despairing yell, he
vanished over the cliff, still seated on
his steed, and was buried beneath the
waves of the English channel. So Fitz-
clarence and Agatha returned to the
castle and lived happily ever after
OndOn Punch