St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1898-03-23


that shone with a vindictive light.
Then simultaneously husky hiss:
II warned you'll Take itP'
I never saw the pistol 60 up There
was no time to grapple with him or
even to swerve an inch by instinct. A
flash, a bang-something had struck me
full in the chest. A noise Of rushing
feet, whirl of dancing stars, sound
Of distant shouting-and then for me
heaven and earth had come together
with crash.
"Save him, doctor-bring him to be-
fore his wife comesl That shot was
meant for me. I've acted the coward
and villain. Oh, save him you must l
couldn't stand exposure'
That broken voice-was it Norman
Caffyn's? Where was What had hap
pened? lay in deadly yet sweet
lethargy, not even able to open my eyes,
just conscious that had partly strug-
gled back to life and that some one was
plucking at my chest. Then another
voice, cool and reassuring:
"You need not Don't you excite
yourself, sir There you area mere
flesh wound that'll be we'll in a fort
night. This mail shirt affair has simply
saved his life-the bullet only just got
through 1t. There was an intense shock
to the heart, an access of blood to the
brain, and now-this brandy and lit
tie quiet ought to put him right. There,
he's coming round. I'll send down and
tell them there's nothing much the
matter. And they let the scoundrel get
clear awayp
"Clear away before the policeman
got near" Aye, that was Caffyn' S sunk
en- voice. l moved a hand, and in a
trice both his own had closed convul-
sively upon it. "Strang, old chap
thank heaven! I've sent for her-there
was card in your pocket. There's been
O miracle at work all round. / only
know you were to save my life tonight.
Oh, I'll never forgive myself was a
skunk to let you 60 like that. don't
know what made me do it, but was
frightened, unnerved. I wanted to
know, and you put the idea into my
head. There's no one here now. Who
was it,"
Then I recollected and the mere re-
membrance of that mad, vindictive face
Wentworth 8 face brought oblivion
again. 1t must have lasted long time,
because when at last I muttered,
where's Nance?" the tight pressure Of
two arms round my neck told me that
need not ask again. Nance was there
and had played Karl Angel that night
to crowded house-and the beginning
perhaps of some great end had come for
me. "I'm all right" they say I whis.
pered. "Let me 90 to sleep now."
Yes, it was a night of MIRACLES
chapter of interviewed condolences
Not newspaper had got at the truth
that next morning. Caffyn had contriv
ed that There was only brief, garbled
account of an assault by an unknown
miscreant upon a gentleman entering
the Strand hotel and vague reference
to the bullet having been turned by
some providential means. Caffyn him.
self did not CLEAN Wentworth's name
from me till that next morning, and
then, for reasons Of his own, he begged
me not to tell living soul, SO that, as
far as know, his would be murderer
has not been publicly identified with
the man who had understudied him fo1
years and who may now be repenting
his despicable attempt in some far corner
of the earth.
Certain it must be that the shot was
intended for Norman Caffyn and nc
other. A series of menacing letters,
limiting at violence of some sort, had
reached him, but he never so much as
dreamed that Wentworth had inspired
them. How should he? Then finally
there had come on that eventful morn,
ing one containing these words "Yonr
star still rises, while mine still hangs.
Make the most of Karl Angel tonight
you will never reach home alive!' That
was it. Half incredulous, but really
scared, Caffyn, superstitious man, had
simply resolved not to stir from his no.
tel for the next "a hours. while yet be
was ashamed of his fear and the facts
becoming known. Then had called
with that astounding proposition, and
you can guess at the rest. A very hu.
man impulse-a sudden vague idea that
by taking advantage of this extraor-
binary coincidence, as it seemed then,
he might somehow learn whether there
was anything in the yelled threat, and
well, there, | like to believe that he
honestly never realized what really was
working in his mind that day when he
allowed me to personate himself. That
he had some distinct foreshadowing of
danger either at the theater itself or
upon leaving it was evident from the
fact that, just in time, that idea of the
fancy dress ball had shot into his con-
fused brain. Were to be attacked in
any way by mistake, that mail shirt
we'll, to tell the truth, it was an idea
that he had more than once adopted as
precaution himself. Only to know
that was his one wild thought that
morning.
But IL prefer to forget all that. |
try to think only Of the golden side of
that strange day when, playing Karl
Angel, I was made to come between
Norman Caffyn and death. Why, if a
debt was there, be paid it in full meas
| ura long before be WAS taken from our