Evening star., 1897-04-03

seemed to speak also. albeit with closed lips
and an utterance inaudible TO all but her
"Well?" he said sadly.
Well?" the voice repeated, like a gentle
echo blending with his own.
You know Ii all now" he went on. You
Know that IL has come at last-all that |
had worked for, prayed for. All that would
have made us happy here: all that would
have saved You to me has come at last, and
all too late"
Too late" echoed the voice with his
You remember, he went on. the last
day We We're together. You remember your
friends and family would have YOU give up
penniiess man. You remember when they
reproached you with my poverty. and told
You that 1t was only your wealth that /
was seeking. that l then determined TO go
away and never to return 10 claim you un-
I'll that reproach could be removed. You
remember, dearest, how you clung to me
ana bade me stay with you, even fly with
you, but not 10 leave you alone with them.
y ou wore the same dress that day, darling.
your eyes had the same wandering, child
like fear and trouble in them: your Jewels
gilttered on you as you trembled. and 1
refused. In my pride, or rather in my
Weakness and cowardice. / refused. / came
away and broke my heart among these
rocks and Lodges. Yet grew strong: and YOU
my love. you, sheltered and guarded by
these you loved, you" He stopped am;
buried his face in his hands. The night
WIND breathed down the chimney and from
the stirred ashes on the hearth came the
Solt whisper: Il died
And then" he went on, II cared for
nothlng. Sometimes my heart awoke for
this young partner of mine in his innocent.
truStful love for a girl that even in her
humble station was far beyond his hopes,
and l pitied myself in him. Home for
tune, friends, / no longer cared for-all
were forgotten. And now they are return
ing to me-only that | may see the hollow
Tess and vanity of them, and taste the bit
ternesS for which / have sacrificed YOU
And here. this last pi.h- af my I
am confronted with only the jealousy the
doubt, the meaness and selfshness that is
to come. Too latei Too late,
The wondering, troubled eyes that haa
looked into his here appeared to clear and
brighten with a sweet prescience. Was il
the wind moaning in the chimney that
seemed to whisper to him: Too late be-
loved, for. me, but not for you. l died, but
love still lives Be happy, Philip. And in
your happiness l. too, may live again.
He started. In the fickering firelight the
chair was empty. The wind that had swept
down the chimney had stirred the ashes
with the sound like the passage of a rust
ling skirt. There was chill in the air and
a smell like that of opened earth. a
nervous shiver passed over him. Then he
sat upright There was no mistake: IL was
no superstitious fancy, but a faint, damp
curren of air was actually flowing across
his feet toward the fireplace. He was about
to rise, when he stopped suddenly and be-
came motfoness.
He was actively conscious now of a
strange sound which had affected him even
in the preoccupation of his vision. 1t was
gentle brushing OF some yielding sub
stance like that made by soft broom on
sand, or the sweep of a gown. But to his
mountain ears. attuned to every woodland
sound. 1T was not like the gnawing of
gopher or squirrel, the scratching of wild
cat, nor the hairy rubbing of bear. Nor
was 1t human: the long, deep respirations
of his sleeping companions were distinct
from that monotonous sound. He could NOT
even tell if it were in the cabin or without
Suddenly his eye fell upon the pile in the
corner. The blanket that covered the treas
ure was actually moving.
(To be continued.)