Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1900-01-06

my mother also seemed to hang on my
words.
Only uphill" I said. Il can match her
on the level fields. and beat her hollow at
running down HILL
l did not add that this last was owing 20
my legs being each half a foot longer. For
why should a boy confess that a girl can
beat him at anything?
So We sat and talked, and as I think for
got the time and place and all else. Mean
while the wind grew wilder and wilder
without, as it were, rushing up the
open alley of the pines, collecting itself in
the little open court yard and then flinging
itself in fury upon the small panes of the
window. with the sudden impetuousness of
a tigers leap.
Suddenly the night dropped like a cur
tain. But the fire only blazed brighter on
the hearth.
will you be pleased to draw in your
chair, sir?' said my mother, as a fiercer
gust than before shook the window, rat
ting the door, hooted in the chimney and
then fled. laughing fiendishly down the
darkening aisles of the wood.
/ saw my mother shiver and glance out
of the window. The creaking and straining
beeches and pines could be both seen and
heard in the pauses of the furious gusts
Their stiff arms stood out like tall gaunt
galIows trees outside the windows. She
rose and moved to the cupboard.
1T is almost time to take our four hours,
she said. 1T seems to come early tonight
and to be more welcome than usual. 1t
darkens apace. Will you be pleased to stay
and drink cup of tea My brother the
Guineaman, brought me some after his last
VOYAGE He got it for having rendered
some service on his homecoming to
China ship
II thank you, madam" said Umphray
Spurway, making my mother courteous
little bow Il ought to be stirring, but
must needs wait for that great pleasure.
Then my mother sent me upstairs for the
West Indian sugar, which Gust in case of
accidents) she kept locked in the great
- taNxJ rarr IN har RI In
room. 1 went gladly, for such chance
came not often, and certainly was not 10
be missed. And as l stood by the curtain
Of the bed room cleansing the sticklness
from my fingers and wiping my mouth with
the siken lining, 1 saw dark figure pass
from side to side of the wide, west-looking
alley in which a certain reddish light yet
fingered, reluctantly to depart altogether.
But | thought nothing of this. For q servi-
tor going to the great house or one OF Mr..
Spurways weavers in search of hare to
boil the pot was no unusual sight at the
Lodge Yeti.
went down, and as I came near the
door of the little parlor in which had left
J-mphray Spurway and my mother, l
paused-for no reason at all connected with
them, nor God woO with any idea of spy
ing upon their converse. For espionage at
least whatever my other FAULTS was never
any part of my nature.
l heard my mother say: ut is useless,
Mr.. Spurway. 1t is, indeed, most useless
1
Before all have my duty to the boy, and
this of all days is not the time to speak
of such things. Think of him that was my
! husband and is so no moreF
/ could not hear what was said in reply
| by Umphray Spurway, though l am sure
| my mother was weeping. For at that mo-
| ment l felt hand close on the lobe of my
! right ear. and old Caleb Clinkaberry bore
| me triumphantly to the door of the parlor,
| with a great piece of West India sugar In
| my mouth, which l could neither swallow
nor yet rid myself of, SO high did he hold
| my head. He opened the door. crying
| See, madam. what caught this fine young
| gentleman at"'
| But that which we saw turned us to
stone In the very doorway My mother
| had dropped her broidery work and stood
erect. Umphray Spurway was just letting
| go her hand, which he had been holding
| But that was not the surprise and terror
| for me.
| Ny eyes were drawn irresistibly to the
,, window. 1t was one of the narrow and
| high French sort opening in the middle
| for the house had been built in King
| Charles time that it might be a summer
pavilion for former lady Of New MilnS
| Now the lattice stood open. and the vino
| rushed bowling triumphantly through the
| house. shutting every door with dreadful
| changing of iron and the clatter and clinl
| of falling glass and breaking crockery
| Framed in the blank blackness of the
| opening appeared a head, wild, disheveled
| hardly human, the throat bare and the rag
| ged collar of coat far too wide appearin,
| beneath. 1t was my father. the man we hat
| thought already hanged by the neck In tn,
| Grassmarket of Edinburgh Philip STAINS
field. the parricide. His eye glanced alon;
the level tube Of pistol barrel.
| Traitor and traitress, 1 have you both