Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1898-06-18
OUT OF THE MIST.

To him who has much, much is given
and much is forgiven Charles Ma
rome had at the age of 40 wealth and
health, good looks, considerable repu-
tation as novelist and some basis for
that reputation. He was not always
popular with men, but in recompense
he had been adored by many women.
Having much, much was permitted to
him-to be capriCious, to be fantastical,
to have eccentricities, to carry self in
dulgence to the utmost limit, even to
be cruel.
1t was caprice which drove him from
London in the middle of the season and
made him take little tumbled down
cottage near the village of Lowstead
and live there alone, to the anger of his
servants and the mystification of his
personal friends 1t was not all caprice
vanity came into it. His vanity was
fattered when he mystiiied people.
That is easy to eXplain-their mystitica-
tion implied interest. There was yet a
third reason. He was strangely practi-
Cal for one so idealistic; he had made a
contract with publisher to finish GER
tain work i'll certain time. In the
country he would be able to work with
out interruption.
1t had rained all the morning, the
drops pattering on the loaded window
in which he sat, with his writing pad
on his knee. In the afternoon the rain
had ceased. The sky was still gray.
The empty moorland, the water drip
ping from the trees, the cry of the cur
lews-all gave the scene certain mel
ancholy. Toward evening the mist lay
thick and gray over everything. He was
sensitive to this melancholy of the
world outside his windows. Late in the
evening, tired of his work, tired of the
French novel he had been attempting
to read, he went out. A laboring man
passed him in the road and said Good
night" Marone asked him the way to
the next village, Arnmore. The man
pointed to the track across the moor
and warned him to be careful not to get
off it. People had been lost in the mist.
Marone laughed, lit cigarette, and,
leaving the road, walked quickly along
the track.
There was not a breath of wind and
there was no sound in the air. The
mist hung motionless. The things that
he passed seemed to jump up suddenly
out of it. A gorse bush or stunted
tree would take almost a human move
ment in the tricky light. Two or three
sheep came close up to him out of the
gray veil and as suddenly turned and
scampered away again. He walked on.
He had left the track for some time be-
fore he noticed that he had done so.
He lit another cigarette and stood
perfectly still. He had quick ears and
was ready to catch the least sound Of a
and to give the call which would bring
him home again. Ii he heard nothing,
he would still, he told himself, be pa
tient enough to stand there and go on
smoking while the cigarettes lasted. By
that time the mist would probably have
lifted-it would be new experience.
Suddenly, though he did not hear the
least sound of any footstep, he was con-
scious that somebody was coming to-
ward him. AT little distance the fig
ure looked like tall column, vague
and shapeless. AS it drew nearer the
mist illusion passed. 1t was a woman,
yelled and dressed in gray. AS it came
Il NO \
young woman, and that the lines of her
figure were beautiful. She stopped when
she was close to him, but did not speak.
The silence seemed almost uncanny. He
took off his hat.
"Do not let me frighten you, he
said Il am merely harmless traveller
lost in the mist, and, l presume, you
are in a similar case?'
She laughed. 1t was pretty, music
al laugh.
"Oh, no." she said, 81 know the
moor we'll, and often walk here when
the mist is thick like this. Perhaps ]
can guide you.
1T is exceedingly kind Of you, he
said II am sorry to give you so much
trouble, but if you could put me on the
track which leads to Arnmore | should
be infinitely obliged to you.
"Arnmore?' she said. Il am going
there myself.
He smiled, embarrassed little.
MAY |, he said, Exchange my es-
cort for your guidance?"
"Yes" she said. Come with me.
We may as we'll keep each other COM
pany this lonely night. !"
And now an idea which had been
growing In his mind, a vague idea Of
recognition, became more clear and pre-
&c. He had heard the voice before; he
,Vas sure of it, 1t seemed to him to
come from some time of the long ago
some time of which he had kept no
souvenir.
at seems a strange thing to say" he
said, "but cannot help thinking we
must have met before. | am sure | rec
ognize your voice"
Yes" she said 1--WE have met. You
would have recognized my fa> =, too,
even i'll this mist, if | We're Eot 'eiled.
! knew you at once. You are Charles
Marone.
"Will you not" he went on, lat
least mt hack your yejlp am Sure 7