The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1895-04-15

| long Dcen gathering. Inc Otner VIII
dow was high above the steep slope o!
the cliff and looked down at the dyke
and the meadows and far over tht
gloomy waters beyond.
The moon was rising behind the
heavy mist and, though daylight was
now completely gone, there was a
| strange dim light in its place so that
Weymouth could presently see wherc
he was, and he scanned the shadowy
country with II growing belief In his
heart that he was prisoner and that
he might be glad to escape from this
not reassuring house of entertainment
look or gesture that they had been ex-
pected. Rogers and the landlady had
undoubtedly betrayed the fact that they
were not strangers to each other. If he
had been free man bound on one of his
own journeys, nothing that had hap
pened would have made him uneasy
but as the guardian of other mems
| gold he was more and more on
the alert Clearly the best thing
now was to stay quiet for brief time,
for his horses sake. and then to plead
haste and push on. He would risk
himself in a bit of fighting. even with
out his pistols which had been left in
the saddle. For another half hotr al
least he would possess his soul in
patience, then find his way to another
| inn less solitary and alarming. With a
fresh horse and the night before him
he could find Bristol himself. He
| clenched his fist and shook it at the
man on the bed; their coming so far
out of the way might perhaps be an
accident, but Weymouth doubted more
than ever the honesty of a man whom
he had distrusted at first sight. and the
drugged liquor was the surest proof of
mischief. He found himself In a tight
place
AS he looked down from the window
into the misty night the great dismal
plain of the Severn stretched away into
the shadows of the distance. A fishing
smack or small packet boat had crept
up toward the headland and cast
anchor under its lee. There was a
lantern in the rigging and another dim
light being brought upon the hill
toward the inn. The wind was still
blowing as If 1t had gone down with
the sun, and risen less wild than be-
fore.
Weymouth left the window, uneasy
enough in his mind; he could not see
MS way to escape in that direction; 1t
was evidently too high for a safe drop
10 the ground. Then he laughed: his
own plan was best and nobody could
with decency oppose it; he would call
for his horse presently and ride away.
Yet, II 1t were known, as he suspected.
that ne was carrying a treasure, it
would still take courage to start out
alone on a tired horse.
He sat down by the fire and looked
| about him. There was little furniture
in the place except the two old beds.
one with its closed curtains of thick
stuff and the other, a poorly-posted
| makeshift of comfort on which Rogers
lay. The old Welsh woman breathed
loud now and then, but Rogers slept as
If he was dead. Curse him." NUT
tered Weymouth. He should have
known his roads or let an honest man
alone"
There was loud voice in the kitchen;
| the landlady could be heard now and
then railing fretfully at some one, who
| was not slow to answer back. His
| went back to the past and he seemed
to himself curiously Indifferent to the
perplexities of the present. He had
just left the woman he loved, disap-
pointed by her coldness. She was
younger than he, they had not known
each other long, but after a separation
| of some months he had Joined her with
| the hope of marriage only to find that
| she had changed, that she put him off
and spoke doubtfully of the future.
| the thought of her lonely figure as
change in her own feelings. but that she
| feared to bring shame upon him, and
the thought of her lonely fiugure as
they parted returned to him like n
vision. She had refused to see him
again; this was two days before: and
the journey to Bristol must be quickly
over so that he might go back to plead
| with her 1t was wrong to have parted
angrily as he had done--if ever life was
in a snarl it was now, but there were
ways to conquer. He started to his
feet. and went quickly toward the
kitchen only to discover that the door
had been fastened on the outside.
He coolly let the latch fall and re-
turned to his chair; beside it was the
heavy pouch of notes and gold and he
slung 1t over his shoulders and fastened
| the belt with steady fingers. The sud-
| den wave of eagerness a brave man
feels in the presence of danger and
| that brief space while the troubles of
his own heart came uppermost both
passed quickly; there was single mo-
ment when Weymouth remembered
that he was a tired and defenseless man
at the mercy of his foes. Then his fears
| most nobly passed; he must not only
escape to plead with Elizabeth Brent,
but he was bound in honor to carry his
wallet to Bristol to Captain Henderson,
of the ship Mary and Bell.
He had q feeling that he was watched.
What about the old Welsh woman? 1t
was by no means uncommon for travel
ers to be crowded together in country
inns, but the landlady had been almost
too eager to forestall suspicion. And
now glancing across the room he saw
the curtains move. The landlady had
told him to call her If the poor old crea-
ture spoke. 4a
Weymouth left his chair again, lifted
the latch of the kitchen door. and
knocked boldly when 1t would not open.
LET me out" he'called, grumbling and
growing. LET me out! want more
brandyw With sudden instinct he took
on the behavior of drunken man.
Let her think / am drugged IL she
pleases," he said to himself, and
knocked again, scoldng finely and
asking for the brandy by turns He
could hear the voice Of another woman