Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1899-11-15

confirm this impression. (which stamp
ed itself each moment more firmly in
his mind.
There flashed through his brain, even
as he ran, stumbling, leaping, sinking
In the snow ut every other step, those
words Of the walter at the inn, telling
him that Coch Tal had been Ill since
the beginning Of last month-the time
of Granville's disappearance; that he
had been seen less In the town since
that date; that he had seemed, since
then, "a changed man."
These circumstances. tritling In them
selves. became important when taken
In conjunction with the mans horror
at the sound of Reginald's voice. He
felt that 1t was the resemblance be-
tween his voice and his brothers
which had struck such terror into the
mind Of the peasant-terror which had
become more acute when he heard his
own nickname pronounced by the lips
of q man whom he had never seen be-
fore.
| And while these thoughts, stimulat-
ed by the fierce passion which possess
ed him, chased each other through
Reginald's mind, his feet flew from
point to point Of the rough way with
ever increasing rapidity. 1t seemed
as If the exaltation Of his mind had
communicated new powers to his body,
for he followed COch Tai with more
ease, more security, than before, and,
rounding the hill Mt great pace when
he reached the foot of it, he found
himself only little way behind the
object Of his pursuit.
The peasant heard him. gave one
look round, and uttering once more
the cultural exclamation. like the cry
of a wild bird, which had chilled Regi-
maids blood when they first came face
to face, he went on his way at
swifter pace than ever.
On they went again, pursuer and
pursued, with the snow and the wind
driving at their backs, filling up the
crevices and the ruts in the rough foot
tracks and swirling into drifts to right
and left Of them.
Up the rough side Of mountain
which looked as they approached It
like the stone wall Of huge fortress
or prison; up. up, up. tearing his hands
on the crags Of rugged graystone
which jutted like pin points out Of the
snowdrifts, went Reginald, his teeth
set and his heart beating like ham.
mer in his breast.
The mountaineer could beat him at
this work; could climb like cat where
his pursuer could only crawl. And the
distance between the two began rapid
ly to Increase. The peasant was out
Of sight when Reginald reached the
top.
There were now only the footprints
In the snow to guide him, but even as
he took the first step forward In the
track Coch Tai had made gust Of
wind, which he felt with redouble1
force on this bleak hilltop, whlrled
the snowflakes round him in blind
ing storm, forcing him to turn and to
shelter his face. When for some Sec
onds the blast had howled and whis-
tied and roared in his deafened ears
and the drifts had swept up from the
ground In binding sheets Of stinging
spray. there was a sudden lull mo-
mentary calm, and as the wind died
the snow fell less heavily.
Reginald raised his head, shook him
self clear from the thick white coat
ings of hard, dry snow and looked
around him for the traces Of the peas
ants footsteps.
They were gone, all trace Of them
swept away under the smooth white
sheet.
He shivered as he looked about him;
down into the dark waters Of the
black tarr below him on bis left hand;
at the barren hills. on the sides Of
which great perpendicular slabs Of
cold gray rock relieved the white mass
and disclosed the stony baroness Of
the soil; at the lowering clouds above, |
which seemed to be descending on his
head; at the never ending prospect Of
hills, bare and cold and white and
melting into forlorn gray distances on
every side.
Look which way he would be could
see no sign Of human habitation. Chill
ed to the marrow with something
which was worse than cold, worse al
most than fear. he recognized the des-
perate situation In which he was plac-
ed and knew that the chances Of his
getting back to Trecoed alive were
intinitesimally small.
Although he had left the inn before
noon, with the day before him, be saw
by his watch that it was already
o'clock. and the gray Of the winter
evening was already gathering In the
valleys and ravines beneath.
Where should he turn? Not back by
the way he had come, even If that had
been possible. For he had passed not
q hut, not cottage. and he could not
hope to find his road to Trecoed before
night fell.
Making rapid exploration or the
small tablcland on which he stood,
Reginald fancied that he deserted. half
way up the side Of hill on his right,
Of lower elevation than the one upon
which he was standing and less rug
ged in appearance. a gray. shapeless
something which looked like the frag-
ment Of Il ruined building. In his des-
perate plight even such a chance Of a
precarlous shelter for the night as q
ruin might afford caused him sensa-
ton of something acute as Joy.