The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1896-10-25

he stretched out his hand and raised the
lamp-light, looked round the room, ana
finally walked to the very spot where the
figure had stood.
ut was part of my dream" he told him
self. Il was not fully awake" He went
to the windoy nearest him and roughly
pulled back the curtains and drew up the
blind. Clouds were scudding past a late
risen moon, the wind was yet high, but
the rain had ceased. The fire was or,
and he felt chilled to the bone. He dared
not remain in the room lest he might sec
that sight again, nor would he retire for
sleep was now an impossibility. He
would go out, that the fresh sharp ir
might invigorate and the exercise warm
him.
Losing no time he Immediately put his
resolution into action. A gust of wind
swept past him as he left his door ana
] with bowed head and rapid tread went
/ forward, needless in which direction ne
turned. The streets were bleak and empty,
noiseless too; the yellow lamplights were
reflected in the wet shining surface of the
pathways. He continued his aimless way,
! hearing the clocks chime the quarters,
their sound waited away by the breeze.
until turning a corner he found himself
! in St. James Square.
Warmth had now come back to his
! blood, but the dread of that which he had
/ seen remained, reason with himself as he
would, and with it came a fear of what
might be, fear that was harder to face
because of its being underlined. BY quick
ening his pace, he sought to out-distance
his thoughts, an effort that was vain.
And as he hurried forward he stumbled
over some unheeded object, and almost
lost his balance; but recovering himself
he turned to look at what had tripped him
and in the faint light Of a neighboring
gaslight saw the figure of woman wrap
ped in a shawl, and seated on the steps
of mansion, one shoulder leaning against
the area ratings, her feet upon the path
way Something familiar in the pose
struck him, as he turned away, and haunl =
ed him as he moved forward. Once he
looked back without slackening his speed,
later he paused, and finally he returned.
| II must be mad tonight" he said, as
he approached the woman once more. and
looked at her attentively AS he did, that
which had at first been a suggestion be-
| came conviction. Hardened as he was
his heart grew heavy as he thought of the
| possibility of what he might see II the
drenced and ragged shawl were removed
from the face. For a moment he hesi-
tated, remembrances hooking him with
| the mockery of demons. Then suddenly
he flung aside the covering and bent above
her with searching eyes. Thin, worn
| clay-colored, and haggard as 1t was, the
face was the same; the eyes were half
opened, CLASSY, and fixed, the mouth was
apart and the chin had dropped.
'Lucilleg he whispered.
She made no movement. He could not
hear her breathe
He touched her bare, fieshless arm.
which chilled him by its GOODNESS A
dreadful thought flashed upon him
''Lucillep' he called again, taking her by
| the shoulder.
would have fallen but for the support Of
the ratings.
MY Cod she is deAdg' he cried out, in
horror.
Then with a last look, which impressed
her face forever on his mind, he left her
| and hurried away into the darkness
Breathless. fatigued, covered with perspl-
ration, and filled with horror, he returned
to his house. As he was about to put the
latchkey in the door he felt a hand grasp
his shoulder He started at the touch
and then with dazed and fearful look he
| turned to meet a tall military-looking
man who stood before him.
| Are you Lord Rupertswoodp he ask
| ed, In calm, clear voice
81 am" the viscount replied.
my name Is John Hengist."
Indeed" replied Rupertswood, with an
effort at recovering himself. what is It
you want?"
"Your life" came the reply, in so firm
voice and In so stern a tone that there
was no mstaling the speakers intention.
my lifei" Rupertswood repeated
when news reached me In india that
you had ruined Lucille. that her husband,
instead of shooting you. had shot himself,
and that her father went broken-hearted
to his grave I, her cousin and next OF
kin, swore that / would kill you I ap-
piled for leave, and on getting H. lost no
time in starting for England. Only this
af ternoon / reached southampton, and
my first visit was paid 10 you. learned
you we're out, and would not be home until
late Being impatient. / came here In the
hope. and on the chance OF meeting YOU"
~ don't see what right you have to med
die IN my affairs, said Rupertswood, in
an angry voice.
II might have known you were cow
ard as well as a scoundrel," replied Mai
John Hengist mockingly.
"A coward2"
YES" returned the major, as he struck
him across the face.
Rupertswood measured his man: then
controlling himself. said: