The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1898-12-17

gloom. Inc crimson ray Struck sparkle
from the tall cross, and the warm, heavy
scent of the incense clung round chancel
and altar. Upon the marble steps in the
darkness Herry sank upon her knees and
with folded hands addressed her petition
to the Rock of the Church, to the Apostle
of the Gentiles.
CHAPTER IL.
In the scaristy John Kilyert fingered
! long after the conclusion of the Mass and
talked to Father Vaux. who Was his con-
fessor at the Court. The x-lawyer was
an elderly man, with shrunken frame and
pain drawn face; but his keen bright eyes
showed that his spirit was unsubduel by
physical pain and undaunted by the shadow
of death which lay visibly upon him. In
deed, while conversing with the priest he
referred to his approaching end with dry
cOmposure
This will be the last midnight Mass
you will celebrate for me, Father, said
he grimly GA few months will see the
end of me.
II suppose there is no hope?'' said the
priest with pitying glance.
"None. My disease is incurable. Well,
if [ die, l die -
but not at peace with all mankind,
Mr.. Kilvert.'
The lawyer laughed bitterly. You
mean womankind, Father you refer to
Dora Fortescue
'Dora Tawleigh, my son, corrected
the good Father with some dryness.
'No-not Tawleigh! Never shall give
her the name of the man who stole her
from me. However, added Kilvert saw
agely. II have made him suffer for his
treachery'
And her also commented Vaux
For a moment or 80 Kilvert was silent
Il am sorry for her said he, after Il
pause; ''but as she made her bed, so she
must lie On it, She treated NE cruelty. "
MY son, observed Vaux, softly 1--WE
have always differed on that point, as you
know. Tawleigh was in love with the lady
as we'll as you; and he won her in fair
and open manner.
''To reduce her to beggary!" growled
Kilvert ''She and her children have
been paupers these many years.
And whose fault is that, Mr.. Kilvert?
Nobody fault, Father, but my work
1t was my right to foreclose those mort
cages; but had Dora married me should
not have done so. AS it is, she became
Tawleigh wife and reduced him and her
self to a pauperism. He has been miser
able these last fifteen years and has had to
work hard for a bare subsistence. Now,
| hear he takes himself and his family to
starve in London.
and can You calmly think Of the
woman you loved starving in London with
her innocent children"
at is her own fault.
''But not the fault of the children.
''They must suffer for the sins of their
father, then.
'John Kilvert, - said the priest sternly,
II tell you the father committed no sin;
he won the hand of Dora Fortescue in Il
fair and honorable way. 1t is you who
have committed the sin, by robbing-aye,
robbinS him of house and lands! But it
is not too late for you to make repara-
| ton.
:'Reparationr' echoed the lawyer
DO you know what you are saying, my
good Father? | have no children, nc
relatives; and as you know, | have willed
Tawleigh Court and Tawleigh lands to the
Holy Church. Would you have me deny
my wealth to the Church p
Il would have you restore what you
have taken unjustly,' replied the priest
coldly. ''Oh, yes; l know that all you
did was done in legal fashion; all the
same, it was robbery, and if you are wise,
you will give back house and lands to Taw-
leigh and his family
''Kilvert rose and laughed harshly, Il
may do so, said he in a scofing manner,
''when a miracle occurs to bid me act i'll
that way. Till then, Mother Church
shall inherit my property. Come, Father,
let us return home for supper.
The priest sighed, and putting on his
hat, followed Kilvert to the little door
which led from sacristy to church. As
the lawyer opened it he and the priest
paused in mutual surprise, for out Of the
darkness there stole silvery and low
breathed song. 1t was the voice of Herry
invoking the aid of SIS. Peter and Paul in
rhymes of her own, paraphrased from the
ancient folio, with interpretations to suit
the exigencies of the moment.
And thus she sang:
Good Saint Peter, good Saint Paul,
Humbly unto thee L call;
Lo! it is the holy morn,
When dear Christ our Lord was born;
In His name do implore
That your words in days of yore
Fulfilled may be in this place,
Bringing fortune to my race.
Tawleigh Court and Tawleigh lands
Place again in Tawleigh hands;
That upon this holy eve
None of Tawleigh blood may grieve;
Let this fortune fair befall,
Good Saint Peter, good Saint Paul.
The singing died away and murmur
of prayer succeeded. Vaux felt that his
companion was trembling in every limb and
that he was elinging to him for support.
1.-The Christmas Luckr he gasped.
"Who-who asks it p
lone of the Tawleighs, no doubt, - re-
piled Vaux, lighting lantern. ''Let me
see, Mr.. Kilvert.'
Leaving the lawyer shivering with fear
in the sacristy, Father Vaux advanced
| Il l. 1, l..
light upon the altar. Seeing the approach
of the tall dark figure and the misty halo
of light radiating from the lantern, Herry,
timid child as she was, thought that her
song had called to earth one of the saints.
Before she could grasp the situation and
divest her mind Of supernatural fears, her
highly strung nerves gave away, and, with
little appealing cry, she tainted on the
altar steps.