Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1896-01-29

eel which had arrived by post. Ipro-
duced my pocketbook. It was stuffed
with 1900 francs in notes. / noticed
my guest greedily eying its contents
across the leg Of chicken which he was
gnawing.
"Plenty of money, Mr.. 'Utchinson.
P'raps I'll have book like that myself
tomorrow. Only reel English notes, sir
81, 900 notes. sir. Not them bits of
dirty forrin paper
I have never met human being more
thoroughly wearisome and wearying
than the Hon. Patrick Kilfinane Winch.
"Gen'l'm'n,' English gen'l'm'n, 1"
'perfic English gen Pm n, - rent roll, +"
thousands Of pounds, y '.his lordship, !"
"heir to the barony Of Kildyke"-these
words and phrases, reiterated unto dis
traction and mingled with fulsome
adulation of myself, seemed to make up
the whole conversation. His talk be-
came kind Of loud, rasping incoherent
buzz. could not follow him, and, oh,
how gladly ! would have dispensed with
any further study of him The man was
a low cad and supreme bore, possibly,
too, dangerous scohndrel, and surely
species Of lunatic. He was getting
powerfully ON my nerves. But what
was he? What had he ever been? was
tired Of studying him. but L had not
made him out.
"Do you smoke, Mr. Winch?'' ask
ed, after dinner was over.
"Hevery English gen'l'm n smokes,
'ope, Mr.. 'Utchinson," he replied loft
lily.
"Then let us adjourn to my study and
have cigar
In the study pulled up two arm
chairs to the open wood fire and pro-
duced cigars. The same insufferable
droning chatter recommended in his
thick, soapy, cockney voice.
mn, ""perfic gen Pm n, "ccme into my
thousands, fine stud of 'orses, "'sure
as I'm honorable, y" call that 'orrid
gamblin, never touch card again. I"
My patience was exhausted, my temper
reused. I could bear it no longer.
"Mr. WHICH, I said coldly, looking
straight into the fire. 'sas Lord Kildyke
is SO seriously i'll think you had better
take the night train to Rome. knock
ed the ash off my cigar and turned to-
ward him to see the effect of my sug-
gestion.
The Hon. Patrick Kilfnane Winch
was sitting bolt upright in his armchair
not two yards distant from me, point
ing revolver full in my face.
do not deny that great and agon-
lied fear took possession Of me. It is
curious how madly swift thought travels
in such situation, how keenly sharp
every faculty Of the mind becomes I
found myself rejecting with lightning
speed as to what ought to do. Should
remain sitting? Should rise? Should
I fling myself upon him? If did SO,
should I receive bullet i'll the brain,
the breast, the heart, or only flesh
wound in the arm? Could knock up
the revolver? If did, what would be
come Of the first charge, tho second, the
third? What would man CT nerve, re-
source, dauntless pluck-a Sloeus or a
Lugard-what would they do under the
circumstances? All this and much more
sped through my brain in less than
three seconds.
The Hon. Patrick Kil6nane Winch
rose from his chair, took two steps to-
ward me and held his revolver within
two feet of my face. Now what shall
do? Shall rise? Shall remain sitting?
Shall fling Precisely the same
thoughts tore through my brain with
ever maddening swiftness. noticed ev-
cry trif1e too. noticed that my cigar
was still in my mouth, that my teeth
were tightly clinched upon it, that my
mouth was full of smoke. that the smoke
was lazily oozing out of my mouth, and
that yet it did not choke me.
"Mr. hutchinson, sir, he said, keep
ing the revolver pointed full in my face,
"it's most repugnant to my feslin's as
an English gen. Pm n to another Eng
lish gen'l'm'n, I'm sure, but I must
trouble you to and over that little pock-
etbook Of yours as saw at dinner.
At that moment there was loud, i'm
pericus peal at the front door bell. Is it
salvation? Shall shout? Shall + The
Hon. Patrick Winch was pink with ex-
citement.
s'Mr. hutchinson, sir, I'm sorry to
force the and of hany Enlgish gen'P-
mn, but I must arsk you to 'urry up
with that little pocketbook. -
slowly unbuttoned my coat and felt
in my breast pocket As did SO there
came knock at the study door, then a
pause, then another knock. l felt that
to cry "Come inl" would be like pull
ling the trigger Of the revolver. Anoth-
er knock, then Concetta opened the door.
She saw the scene, and turning toward
the hall cried quickly, "Passi, Signor
Guardial'
An Italian policeman briskly entered
the room. Why only one? 1 wondered.
Why not three or four when SO desperate
q ruffian was in question? The Hon.
Patrick Kilfnane Winch had replaced
the revolver in his pocket and was mop
ping his forehead with dirty red ban
danna. The guardia had evidently seen
nothing.
Never had felt so kindly toward any
human being. The guardia was STURDY,
thickset little man, inclining to embon-
point; his reddish face had the mellow
red and brown glow of health bon
viveur; his black eyes twinkled pleas
autly. A thick, black mustache alone
served to impart to him little OF the
truculent air necessary to his profession.
And then, like every Sienese, every
Tuscan-I might almost say every ltal.
ian-his manners were full OF the most
engaging courtesy. He bowed repeated
" and began by apologizing for DIS
turbing me at that hour Of the evening.
sDon' t mention it. /" said heartily.
"You come at most opportune moment
for me. I am happy to be OF service TO
you. am happy to think that my house
should have served to entrap the crlml-
nal whom you are in search Of" "a
shade of surprise passed over his good ma
tured face. J "There," I exclaimed
pointing angrily to the covering scion
Of a noble house, "there is the scoundrei
you wantl"
"What p cried the guardia, in amaze
Il.