The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1902-01-08
CHAPTER XIX.

miration. II shall go and see ner.
"That is just what she wants you
to do" replied Miss Lansdowne. "she
has said so to me so often that l
thought, when I saw I had a chance
of speaking to you, would not let
it slip"
"It is very good Of you" said Cliff
ford. (which was the dance you said
I might have"
The next morning, before luncheon
time, he was at Stroan.
1t was bright day, and there was
only just enough wind to stir the air
pleasantly on his way across the
marsh road. The sun shone on the
white, chalky soil, and the place where
the body of Jem Stickles had been
found was now no longer distinguish
able by any outward sign from the
rest of the grass-grown border to the
road. People had begun to forget the
tragedy, and even the fresh interest
excited by the more recent events ut
the Blue Lion had by this time faded
in their minds, relegated to the back
ground by the pressure Of some less
stirring but newer occurrence.
The Blue Lion itself looked melan-
choly enough, having been uninhabit-
ed for a month. With it's doors closed,
its shutters barred, with broken
panes in its upper windows, it was
a dreary contrast to the little inn he
had known. No market-carts now
drew up before the door; the ducks
and the chickens no longer wandered
about the road; the shed where the
cart had stood was empty and already
out of repair. Clifford. after one
walk around into the little garden and
down to the shed where he had first
met Nell, hurried away from the DESC
late spot and made haste to reach
Shingle End.
But a change had come over this
place also. To begin with, the storms
Of the winter had dealt harshly with
the old house. Some states had been
carried away and had not been re-
placed, and tree, blown down by
southwesterly gale, now blocked the lit
tie bit Of ground which formed the front
garden. 1t had injured the corner Of
the house in Its fall, had carried away
one of the outside shutters Of the
drawing-room front window and
smashed half O dozen Of the small
panes Of glass, which had been left
broken. Sheets Of brown paper had
been pasted on the inner side Of the
window, completing the desolate ap-
pearance Of the old house. Clifford,
as he approached the gate, found that
the tree had fallen in such manner
that it was impossible to get In. Look
ing up doubtfully at the windows, he
caught sight Of little, withered face,
gray, haunting, peering cut at him
from behinf the meager muslin cur
tain
Was it or was it not Miss 8ostals?
For moment he stood undecided with
his hand upon, the gate. Had some
terrible ,calanity-the death of the
ColoneL the illness Of his daughter
fall In upon the place like a blight?
Should he go back and make inquiries
SAT the nearest cottage before he ven
tured to intrude upon what might be
some great grief?
There was an ancient cottage close
by which had once been q dollhouse.
He thought he would knock at the
door and try to find out something, and
fipo hot rrh
hurried tapping on the glass Of the
upper window made him look round
again. Miss Bostal-if it was indeed
she-made sign to him to so round
to the back Of the house.
Obeying her mute direction, he
found his way back to the little side
gate in the paling, passed through
into the garden and presented himself
at the back door. He noticed with
surprise, as he passed the two lower
other at the back of the house, that
the blinds were drawn down. Surely,
then, the Colonel was dead, he
thought. He had not time to speculate
rs to why, in that case, the upper
front rooms had had their blinds up,
when he heard the sound Of some
one within drawn back a bolt and
then another and another.
Then the door was opened by Miss
Bostal, who put out her head to throw
one frightened glance round the gar
den, and then, seizing his proffered
hand, drew him hastily inside, and be-
gan Immediately to replace the bolts
Clifford could not help feeling
amused, although he took care not to
show it. 1t seemed to him clear that
the recent occurrences in the neigh
borhood had got on the poor little
woman's brain, and made her absurd
~ nervous about the safety of her
own little person and not very valua-
BILE property.
"You are we'll secured against bur-
glars, l see," said he, as he insisted
upon doing the work of boiling the
door for her, and was surprised to find
how solid and strong the protection
was.
The little woman started, almost
jumped.
"Oh. Mr.. King" gasped she, in a
tone of acute terror. Don't make
jokes about it. It's too dreadful! I
never feel safe! Last night OH"
she paused, closing her eyes as if on
the point Of fainting. And Clifford
saw, by the light that came through
the dusty panes above the front and
the back door, that her little pinched