Manchester Democrat. [volume] (Manchester, Iowa) 1875-1930, 1900-01-03

Sdndt,J outside against the 1call qrds the
0td lto1ndn alone.
last waiting for you down stairs, the
best We've got, and then, if you'll come
up here, my mother'll watch by Gwyn
today, and no one shall disturb the
man who's saved my daughters life"
"But we don't know
-"Ah, sir, don't tell me! Trust a IA
Tiers eyes. She's never looked like
that, peaceful and sweet and herself,
since she's been ill., You've saved her,
Sir; under Providence you've saved
my girl, and If there's happiness to
give for good man in this world 1t
ought to be yours, sir, and it should be
If my prayers could bring it to you"
The impulsive fellow was shaking
from head to foot again and betraying
again the depth Of the emotion he felt.
He seemed to want to express his graf
itude In some eccentric and extraya-
CANT manner. so that Mason had m
uncomfortable fear that he was going
down on his knees to him or that he
would fling his sinewy arms about hts
guests unwilling neck.
When he got down stairs, however,
where he found bountiful and savory
meal prepared for him in the kitchen,
which was flooded with the morning
sun, and when the farmer had apollo
gized for leaving him to himself, Mas
son wondered, with sudden chill
down the back. what would have been
his treatment at the 1.-the little
Welshman's hands If his daughters
illness, instead of taking turn for
the better, had taken a turn for the
worse?
The wind had dropped; the sky,
though not quite clear from clouds,
was blue in parts; the sun threw
shame on the blazing fire. Mason
could not open the front door for the
snow with which 1t was blocked, but
he looked out of one of the latticed
windows and saw sight grand
enough to be worth his journey.
On the tableland where the farm
house and the ruins Of the old monas-
terry stood the snow, covering rough
fragments of masonry, lay crisp and
sparkling in hundred fantastic
mounds. Beyond, seen between soil
tary ruined pillar on the one side and
the walls of the old church on the 9TH
er. was the valley below, with it's dark
line Of rivulet winding through the
cold white mass and the mountains on
the other side, where steep gray slabs
and slender dark peaks relieved the
veil of snow.
The whole of the wild and pictur-
esQue, If somewhat confined, land
scape, lay bathed in such a strong
stream Of flashing sunlight that it
seemed to lift great weight of the
mind even to look at it; gloomy
thoughts and black suspicious lost
their keenness, their force, in the
physical JOY Of existence, and Mas
son was conscious that the sun
shine and the brightness Of the
scene were at the bottom of it when he
made up his mind not to be frightened
away by facts or by fears, but to stay
on at the farmhouse till his patient
was herself again. In the first place,
and until he could meet with Coch Tai
in the second
AS for the girls warning to him, he
told himself now that there was prob.
ably more of an invalid's fancy than
Of sober, solid truth In her fears on
his account. Certainly there were
mysterious elements in the house
hold. There were suspicious circum-
stances to be accounted for In his own
experience as well as his brothers.
fate.
But the more he considered the mat
ter the more firmly he set his teeth
and told himself that he would not be
scared away until he had found out, IL
not enough to hang somebody for the
crime Of which he believed his broth
er to have been the victim, at any rate
sufficient to set the police on the track
Of the murderer.
In the meantime he could safely
trust to the farmers interest in his
daughters welfare to protect him
from the dangers which might pos
sibly menace him under the farmhouse
roof.
By the time he had finished break
fast the first impression given by the
warmth and the sunlight had given
ing Of the faculties which reminded
him that he had had no rest worthy
Of the name for &c hours and that he
was in such condition as made 1t i'm
peratiye that he should get some re-
pose as speedily as he could.
HQ went I'm Staira therefore still