Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1900-05-05
CHAPTER XIV.

did We hear, miss? Oh, fax, there's ter
-ible news, ma'am T. says old Timothy, trot-
ting into the breaSfaSt-room at Moyne the
following morning, his face pale with excite
ment.
"Iou alarm me, Ryan! what Is it?" says
Miss Priscilla, laying dow her fork.
'Oh, it's beyant everything, ma'am! Oh,
the blackguardS o. the world! 1t was last
night, miss, it happened. The ould Squire,
there, below, was sittin' In his library, as
paceable as yc place, ma'am, when they
fired a bullet at him, an shot him, an
wounded MiSthcr Brian-No, be the pow
ers, | b'laye I'm wrong; they kilt Misther
Brian an WOUNDED the Squire; an there's
the greatest cOmnTOtiOn ye liver see down
below, miss"
For II awful moment Monica thinks she
Is going to faint. A mist rises between her
and Timothy'S face; his voice sounds far
away, in the next county as it were, and
then ceases altogether. Then a sharp sting
OF pain rushing through her veins rOuses
her, and sends the blood back with a tu-
multuous haste to cheek and neck and brow.
The pain Is short but effective, and is indeed,
nothing more than a pinch Of a pronounced
type, administered by the watchful Kit,
with a prOmp:itude very creditable to her.
'lIe is eXaggcrating," says the astutc Kit,
in a subdued whisper apparently addressed
TO her plate. Don't believe him; take cour-
age; and, at all events, remember their eyes
are upon YOU" Her tone is great with
mystery and kindly encouragement. More
revived by it than even by the pinch, Moni-
ca takes heart Of grace, and listens with
maddening impaticnce for what is yet to
! ppnn Elnnninu NJ Mice DricniIIa cha nan
see that her aunt is as pale as death, and
that her hands are trembling excessively.
Miss Penelope is looking with anxiety at
her, whilst trying to elicit the truth from
Ryan.
Collect yourself, Ryan," she says, severe.
ly. "WhO was killedy'
"No one outright, I'm tould, miss-but-"
"Thcn who IS wounded?'
"The bullet went right through them,
miss"
Through both! But that is impossible. |
must beg you again to collect yourself,
Timothy; all this is most important, and
naturally Miss BIake-that Is, Ue-are much
upset about it. Through whom did the bull
let go"
"The ould Squire an his nephew, miss"
Through their bOdies?' cries Miss Pene-
lope, throwing up hope and both her hands
at the same time.
mo, ma'am, just between them, as il
might be between you an Miss Priscilla
now" He illustrates the real truth as he
says this.
Bless me, man sure they weren't touch.
ed at all So" says Miss Penelope.
mo more they were, miss. Sorra a bit,
praise be"
"Then why did you say they were killed?''
says Terence, Indignantly, who has been
stricken dumb by the appalling fate of his
dear Desmond.
AN sure how much nearer could they be
to it? What saved thin, but maybe the
hitch Of a chair? Oh wirrasthrue this day!
says old Ryan, beginning to cry,
Timothy, sit down directly. Terence,
get him a glass of whisky" says Miss Penc.
lope. "Now, don't excite yourself, Timothy;
you know it is very bad for you at your age.
Take time, now Collect yourselfr'
Have the aSsaSsinS been discoveredp'
asks Miss Priscilla, I'm a trembling tone.
mo, miss. But I'm tOuld the polls is very
eager afther EN-" -.
WAS nobody hurt, Timothy?"
mo one, ma'am."
Here Monica feeling the relief greater
than she can support, gives way to a dry but
perfectly audible sob.
Don't be afeared, miss, dear" says old
Ryan, with heartfelt but most ill-judged
sympathy; 1.-THE yDung gentleman is all
right. Not a single scratch on him, they
say; so you needn't be cryin' about him,
honey"
Miss Monica is in no wise anxious about
Mr., Brian Desmond" says Miss Priscilla,
recovering from her nervousness with as
much haste as though she had been subject
ed to an electric shock. 'She is only dis
tressed-as Andy these lawless proceed
ings."
AN we hear they're boycotted, too,
ma'am," says old Ryan, still oppressed with