The Hood River glacier. (Hood River, Or.) 1889-1933, 1902-01-31

ly draws Dfeatn unliit uhFlug lVuhu tnN
small iron gate that admits to the gar
den at its lowest end, she enters by 1t
aud feels herself at last at home.
On the hall doorsteps, as II lying in
wait for her, stands Mrs. Crunch, the
housekeeper.
'Dear me, miss, and so you have re-
turned" says she. "Dearl but master
will be main glad to hear of 1t. He was
that upset by your absence that we
daren't so much as approach him." Gri-
selda's blood grows cold. "But now he'll
be sure to tell you himself how glad he Is
to see you back safe and sound"
CHAPTER V.
Mrs. Crunch, as Griselda left her, turn
ed aside, and with darkened brow made
for the library, Mr.. Dysart's usual abid-
ing place. Not finding him here, she
hurries onward down the hall, until she
comes to a heavy curtain. once handsome,
now moth-eaten and dingy, and pushing
1t aside, reveals a long tagged passage,
with high, narrow door at the extreme
end.
STOPPING as she comes to 1t, she peers
through the keyhole, and finding it emp
ty, tries, with cautious, quiet grasp,
the handle of the door to find the latter
locked. Still very cautiously she slips her
hand into her pocket, draws out a key,
well oiled, and inserting 1t in the keyhole,
softly opens the door.
A grim smile overspreads her face as
she looks toward the further end of the
room. There, on his knees beside cab
met, kneels Mr. Dysart. 1t is open, and
Mr. Dysart, in his worn and shabby old
coat, is kneeling before the secret open
ing, gloating openly upon its contents
Piles upon piles of yellow sovereigns are
so built one on the top of the other that
they reach from one narrow resting place
to the other above, and so on. Dull, heavy
gold that scarcely glitters, save in the
eyes of the wretched miser bending over
them. m
Yet it is not SO much on the money as
on a paper he holds in his hand that his
attention is concentrated. He is so bent
| on the perusal Of it THAI he hears neither
the turn of the key in the lock nor the
wcman's entrance. And now, as a mali
cious chuckle breaks from her, it so star
! ties him that he springs to his feet as if
shot, and a sharp, horrid cry, that. Is
almost a shrek, escapes him. His face
has grown deadly white, great drops OF
sweat stand out upon his brow.
Comforting yourself with, a look at it. u
says she, with a malignant leer. As she
speaks she points not at the gold, but al
the paper he has tightly clutched in his
hand.
How did you come mere, womanT de.
mands he, in shrill tone. He is trem.
bling, and with nervous fingers presses
the paper into the secret recess in the cab
met, and shuts TO the oaken woodwork.
why, through the door," retorts she
sulenly. How else? You should remem
Der to lock it when engaged on work like
this"
Il could have sworn locked It," say.
he, still shaking. See! here is the key
in my pocket. l. tell you," with increas
ing agitation, II did lock 1t. Are you
fiend that you can follow me through
bolted doors"
Hush Don't give way to foolish fan
cies. And after all, why need my com
ing fuster you? Surely" with mock
ing air, your occupation was an limo
cent one; you were but refreshing your
self with a glimpse Of"
BE silent, woman! Are you madY
cries he, lifting his arms like one in NOR
tai fear.
You're but a poor sort after ALL" sh,
says, contemptuously. "Too poor TO
faith or trust of any sort. What! car
you not even believe in me, who ha
served you and yours long and faithful
for forty years2 Is it likely I'd betra!
you now for his children
"Ay, he served you falsely once" say
! Gregory Dysart, SAVIOR of pleasure il
his tone.
"He took my Destiny life, my soul
the heart Of everything" says she, slow
ly beating one withered hand upon tn
other. Though years have rolled by
have not forgotten; shall not forget a
, all. When first | saw them | felt a
though, II power were given me, coul
have blasted as they stood those insolen
husses upstairs"
II Something out of the goodly past, som
vague touch of decency belonging to tn
days when he was young and happy, an
when honor was still word to which b
clung with all his might, renders thi
) coarse epithet, as applied to the pretty oil
D phans committed to his care, insupporl
able.
you hardly remember, perhaps, tina
5 you are speaking of my nieces," he say
D with an angry frown.
: "Hoity toity! None Of your airs wit
e me-" says she, sternly. She advances
step nearer to him. Remember, Dysar
: that l can either make or mar you.
Q and | only"
e II would were sure of that" says h,
: moodly. But Have you forgotte
b Sedleyf He knew"
a "Pish! He's dead: let him rest. Wha
a one you are to worrit! Twenty year
I ard more, and no sign of him, and as
r you was he the one to remain quiet, if b
saw way to forcing a sovereign out {
youf"
= "True, true" says Dysart, eagerl
q catching at this suggestion. And yet
) would give much to know that he was
the grave"
: "Ay. and | in mine! know you,
n says she, with an evil look. "You fes
me-"
,. Il fear nothing" says he. coldly.
e what" says she, slowly, regardin
|. him closely; mot even that your SC
), t should knowT
:. She pauses. pleased with her work. A
: at once. as il were. on hearing this que
/ ton. the old man quails before her Ike
II beaten hound. The life goes out of hir
be seems to shrink into himself. aud pu
g out his hands as though to ward of sou
!. fatal blow.
n mot that Anything but that"
/. mutters, feebly.
h well, don't drive me to it." says sh
/ sulkily.
{" Remember, It was for him | did it
cries be, sharply. After all my love, n
/ care. my secrecy, to have it now laid bal
to him. | tell you'-his fingers workiI
, eOnvulsively-"ra;her than that be shou
a know, il seems to me that il would be
r. sweet and simple thing to murder hi
?. who would betray me-"
Pm not going TO betFay you" sa.
u she. And as for saying twas for hi
s you did it. why"
For him. For his sake only"
g Partly, think" says she. dryly.
Is Entirely; altogether. What other ere
r. ture had | to love me-to lover II
mother. as you know. hated me; al
L when she died was glad" says B