The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1899-11-15

whispered TO Re-, the great blood
hound, and ran quickly to the door
The ground was covered with snow,
and in the moonlight he saw very
plainly two figures, the one a rough
looking man, the other a thinly clad
boy of some or IL years, carrying u
violin. At Rex's deep growls the man
took to his heels and fed, but the
child, too exhausted to move, sank
down a helpless mass on the snow.
The squire lifted him up and carried
him tinderly into the warm, cheerful
study 1t was many n long day since
child had been in the old abbey, and
it caused great excitement even
though this was only an unknown
stroling violin player; servants hur-
ried here and there, with hot blank
cts, mulled vince Truly there was
something almost pathetic in the small
pale face, with it's black eyelashes and
curly dark hair Those who stood by
never forgot how the tears came into
the squire's eyes when he saw the
deep welts that cruelty and hard usage
had made on the tender flesh of the
boy. One little arm was marked with
the letter &C. which made all wonder
and old Thomas, the butler, whispered
to Margaret, the. COOK: Mark my
words, there's some mystery about the
lad he doesn't look a bit like an Ital-
ian fiddler
His name was Carlo he did not
know how old he was; Marco had never
told him that.
THE master, the man for whom he
played the violin, and by whom he was
beaten in return.
mot his father?
"Oh, no, he would not remember his
father at all.
Where was his mother?
HE didn't know: sometimes when
he was asleep he dreamed that sweet
face smiled upon him and a soft hand
tenderly smoothed back the curls from
his brow, but whether it was his
mother, or the picture of one of the
saints Chat he had seen one day when,
unknown to Marco, he had made his
way into a chiesa at Romeo come to
life he was never quite sure"
would he like to live with the
squire and be his little boy?"
I'm answer the child leaned his dark
head against the mans shoulder, and
from that instant there was a firm, un-
Walter Keith, master of Keithleigh Alb
ney, and Carlo, the waif.
six years after and Master Carlo
was as bonnie a lad as you'd find of his
age in the United Kingdom. His love
for the squire had grown with his
growth and strengthened with his
strength, and Mr.. Keith often used to
wonder how he had ever gotten along
without him.
''In the year that I became house
keeper the squire caught heavy cold,
which settled on his lungs and for q
long time threatened to end fatally, so,
as soon as he was able to stand it the
doctor ordered complete rest and
change of scene. SO, accompanied by
the lad, he started for Italy.
"One day, while at Rome, after leav-
ing the Vatican, he was stopped in the
street by a neatly dressed woman, who
in face and manner Of speech was de-
cidedly Spanish. My mistress is dying,
my puir bonnie Teddy, an wad ye ma
come and say a wee bit prayer after
she gaes?' she asked, with tears in her
eyes.
"Mr. Keith turned on the spot, never
inquiring what the disease (Which
proved to be the fatal Roman fever)
was, and hurried along by the woman's
side.
Had her mistress been ill long?
Not in this great danger, but she
had been ailing about nine years, ever
since little Carlo, her only BARN, was
accidentally drowned.
Was she a widow?
Yes, her husband died about three
months before the child was born,
leaving her without a penny. She was
by birth an Englshwoman, and has
written again and again to her father,
a rich baronet, for help, but has never
received any answer.
did they ever find the body of the
boy?
"No, but they had positive proof of
his death. For said the woman. 'one
morning while / was fixing nv leddy's
hair the wee bit laddy was playing in
the garden, and after, when I went to
fetch him in, / couldna find the BARN,
but what | did find was his tiny cap
floating upon the Tiber. On that day
my puir mistress heart broke, and she
has never been the same woman since
Here we are al the house now! viii
ye come in / don't much think she
will understand ye-she's too far gone
for that, but I ween she'd be fain to
ken that one Of her ain kirk was with
her at her last hour
with these words she led him up
a winding stairway into a small,
meanly furnished room. closely fol-
lowed, though unperceived, by the boy
Carlo. On the bed the form of a wo.
man was lying, her face, which, in
spite of its pallor, still had some claim
to beauty, was scarcely less white
than the pillow itself
"'Ah' she said in a voice so weak
and low as to be hardly heard. I
have had such a sweet dream, Janet.