The Republican., 1899-04-06

"Yet, were it but 80 shillings. or but
one shilling, or but sixpence, l would
not deliver it up for thirty blunder-
buses in my face. Folly it may bel
claim not that it is courage, yet It's the
British nature that have Who took
it must take my life-and life is sweet
to me. You eat nothing SIR
'Tis this cursed choking bread"
said Fitzroy, breathing heavily. Here,
woman. have you no more milk?"
Nay ,sir''-the crone had reappeared;
mot a drop more. My COW is gone dry"
Il have plenty in my DISH inter
posed McDougall. Nay, man, dip in,
dip in! We farmers stick not at fine
table civilities."
A certain somber determination in
his piercing eye compelled Fitzroy to
obey reluctantly. Then he did not eat
the bread.
You have not asked me why life is
sweet" said the Scotsman. Surely a
happy man should be an object of Curl
osity Since you ask not, l will tell you
of mine own accord. | am passably
young, | have health and strength.
have land enough to wiring a living
from, and in December | am to marry
the sweetest girl in all Scotland 1t
is much to live for, is it not, sir?" with
eyes riveted on Fitzroy's.
"Gentlemen," interrupted their sin
isterfaced hostess, lam | bid to make
Up beds here? Or do you purpose 70
take the road ?''
McDougall hesitated. First showme
how my horse is lodged" he said to the
old dame. Scarce had they disappeared
together into the dusky doorway of the
dilapidated clubhouse before the wom-
an sped eagerly back to Fitzroy.
Quick" she whispered. pulling him
into the house. "Here''-producing
pisto! from cupboard" It's his; cut
it from his holster whilst you supped.
You need not fear him now. 'Tis
coward. anyway"
He hath reckoned for the supper
already" grinned the crone. 81 sped
back to tell you where he carries his
money"
In his saddle-bags
NAY, it's in a little buckskin bag
within his coat. 1t clinks most amaz-
ing heavy, nor would he pull the string.
After all, It's a trust and must not be
touched he said, and paid me with
shilling from another pocket. Why
hang you back, sir?"
A sudden sound smote the highway
mans ears before he could answer
the sound of swift hoofs splashing on
wet road. Breaking to the door he saw
horse and rider making furious haste.
His prey had escaped him.
Quick fool my horse!" he cried,
tiinging himself frantically across the
beast when she brought it. and extend
ing, instead of good-by a hasty hand
for the purloined pistol. He could
scarcely account for his change of
mood. Chagrin at being outwitted,
fear of remaining as tame sport for the
old woman's gibes, pricked him on.
His fresher horse quickly outran the
travellers more jaded one. which. at the
sound of a shot from behind, threw his
wounded rider in the thick mud
and galloped on, mad with terror.
In the one instant of Fitzroy's dis
mounting the hurt man struggled to his
feet. Come on, sir" he said. with
ghastly composure you have not vet
dipped your hands in my blood. You
dipped them last-in my dish-you
wretched etrayer-coward! As he
fell in the vain attempt to pull his ad-
versary down with him, one sharp cry
of pain, of human dependence, quiy-
cred in the air, preceding deadly stiff
ness: "Kitty!"
why need he shrek that?" muttered
Fitzroy, IT'S strange. In faith.
would his Kitty had him, and 1 the
buckskin bag"
Recalled to the need for haste. he
knelt down and fumbled for the bag.
opened it,and then laughed loudly and
hoarsely. "Shillings! One, two''-he
counted thirty. and his hands shook.
He wished nightly it had been any
other number, even lesser; and could
not have sworn that the pale. dead.
scornful lips beside him did not repeat:
lis bit of Judas-work. In the
bag lay letter, whose address:
ITO Mrs. Dorothy White,
Durham"
struck him with a vague, unpleasant
sense of familiarity:
DR.. Aunt" it read, these sos will be
handed you by a brave gentleman and true.
Mr.. Duncan Mehlongall of this place Him
j am to mary in littel time The silver
peaces are for you to add to that j gave
you for welding gown VIII. you, honoured
Aunt, promised me the favour to by for
me. Send it back by him, and pray you of
yr. cortesy to Low him as you love me, for ]
love him as j do my Self. Yr moast dutiful
neace, KITTY FITZROY"
Thirty pieces of silver, flung in as
many different directions, splashed into
tho H+tIa roode;da d;+oLoe .IT 49,