The Hood River glacier. (Hood River, Or.) 1889-1933, 1901-08-23
CHAPTER l.

had driven me 20 the very verge Of des-
peration. | cannot say here what had
brought me to this pass. for ! do not
know into whose hands these pages may
fall; but had made up my mind TO per
slst In a certain line Of conduct which
firmly believed to be right, whilst those
who had authority over me were reso-
lutely bent upon making me submit to
their will. The conflict had been going
on, more or less violently, for months;
now had come very near the end OF Il.
felt that | must either yield or 90 mad.
There was no chance OF my dying; | was
too strong for that
II had been raining all the day long.
My eyes had followed the course Of soil
tary drops rolling down the window panes
until my head ached. There was moth
ing within my room less dreary than
without / was In London, but In what
part Of London did not know. The
house was situated in a highly respecta-
BILE, though not altogether fashionable
quarter; as judged by the gloomy, no
notonous rows of buildings which | could
see from my windows. The people who
passed up and down the streets on hne
days were well-to-do persons, who could
afford to wear good and handsome
clothes. The rooms on the third floor
my rooms, which had not been allowed
TO leave since we entered the house, three
weeks before-were very badly furnished.
The carpet was nearly threadbare, and
the curtains Of dark red moreen were
very dingy. My bedroom opened upon
al Ino otr al IA
mel howled dejectedly from time to time,
and ratified his chain as If to remind me
that | was a prisoner like himself l
had no books, no work, no music. 1t
was a dreary place to pass a dreary time
in; and my only resource was to pace to
and fro-to and fro from one end to an
other Of those wretched rooms.
A very slight sound grated on my ear;
1t was the hateful click Of the key turn
Ing in the lock. servant entered, car
rying in a tray, upon which were lamp
and my tea-such a meal as might be
prepared for school girl in disgrace. She
came up to me, as If to draw down the
blinds.
Leave them." l said 81 will do it my
self by and by"
He's not coming home tonight" said
a woman's voice behind me, In scofing
tone.
| could see her in the mirror without
turning round. A handsome woman,
with bold black eyes, and a rouged face,
which showed cOarsely in the ugly look
Ing glass. She was extrayagantly dress
ed, and not many years older than my
self. | took no notice whatever Of her,
but continued to gaze out steadily at the
lamp-lit streets and stormy sky.
1T will be no better for you when he
Is at home" she said fercely. HE hates
you; he swears so a hundred times day,
and he is determined to break your proud
spirit. We shall force you to knock un-
der sooner or later. What friends have
you got anywhere to take your side3 II
you'd made friends with me, my fine lady,
you'd have found it good for yourself;
but you've chosen to make me your en-
emy, and I'll make him your enemy"
II set my teeth together and gave no
indication that | had heard one word
of her taunting speech. My silence serv-
ed to fan her fury.
Upon my soul, madam" she almost
shrieked, you are enough to drive me to
murder | could beat you. Ay! and
would, but for him. So then three weeks
Of this hasn't broken you down yet! We
shall try other means tomorrow"
She came up to where | stood, shook
her cenched hand in my face and flung
herself out of the room, pulling the door
violently after her. | turned my head
round. A thin, fne streak Of light, no
thicker than a thread, shone for an in
stant. My heart stool still, and then
beat like hammer stole very softly
to the door, and discovered that the bolt
had slipped beyond the hoop Of the lock.
The door was open for me!
| had been on the alert for such a
chance ever since my Imprisonment be-
gan. My sealskin hat and jacket lay
ready to my hand in a drawer. | had
not time to put on thicker boots; and it
was perhaps essential to the success Of
my Sight to steal down the stairs in the
soft velvet slippers | was wearing. /
stepped as lightly as | could. | crept
past the drawing room door, The heavy
house door opened with a grating of the
hinges; but ! stood outside it In the shell
ter OF the portico-free but with the rain
and wind Of stormy night In October
beating against me.
darted straight across the muddy road
and then turned sharply round corner
On | fled breathessly. As drew nearer
to shop windows an omnibus driver. see
ing me run toward him, pulled up his
horses in expectation Of a passenger
sprang In, caring very little where II
might carry me, so that could get quick
Iy enough and far enough out of the reach
of my pursuers. There had been no time
to lose, and none was lost. The omnibus
drove on again quickly, and no trace of
me was left.
The omnibus drove Into station yard.
and every passenger, inside and out, pre-
pared to alight. | fingered till the last
The wind drove across the open space in
a strong gustas | stepped down upon the
pavement. A man had just descended
from the roof, and was paying the con-
ductor tall, burly man, wearing thick
waterproof coat, and a seaman's hat of
oilskin, with long flap lying over the
back of his neck His face was brown
and weather beaten, but he had kindly
looking eyes.
Going down to Southampton said
the conductor to him.
"4gy, and beyond Southampton, he an
swered.
You'll have a rough night Of it," said
the conductor. "Sixpence, if you please,
miss"
l offered an Australian sovereign,
pocket piece, which he turned over curl
ously, asking me If had no smaller
change, He grumhled when answered
no, and the stranger who had not passed
on, turned pleasantly to me.
You have no change, nam zellel" he
asked slowly, as If English was not his
ordinary speech. very WE'LL are you
going to Southampton"
Eyes, by the next train" answered.
deciding upon that course without hesita-
tion,
$50 am l, m'zelle," he said, raising
hand to his oiskin cap; Il viii pay
this sixpence, and you can give It me
again when you buy your ticket in the