Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1902-05-06

struck a wax vesta. The little circle of
yellow light fell on the paper the girl
held, and over the delicate white hands
which grasped it's edges.
| L could not keep my eyes from the left
hand, with the singular covering. 1t
gas ungloved, in the conventional sense
of the world, but set of thin gold rings,
| fastened together by the s,anderest OF
| chains, had been drawn over the four
| fingers, and even the thumb, while across
| the back of the hand lay close netting
formed entirely of small pearls. This
was again attached at the wrist to a
narrow, closely fitting bracelet of plain
( gold.
Never before had seen so peculiar an
ornament for a woman's hand, and ] did
not now admire it. 1t was too bizarre,
too conspicuous, without being artistic.
As / stared at the thing she looked up
suddenly, and | thought that a quick
frown passed over her lovely face.
Were you looking at my map| she
said lightly. And yet there was con-
eealed anxiety in her tone.
No: l."
She folded up the paper and thrust it
back into her dress.
There are some rather interesting fea-
lures in that little plan" she went on;
Extremely interesting to any member
of the Amory family-at least, SO 1
should think You had better put out
/ your match. / don't need it any longer,
thanks, and you will burn your fingers.
believe that 1 can find what l want at
last. We shall come to the Abbot 5
! Walk presently"
/ But | thought you had never been
here before" l caught her up quickly.
Il did not say tpat. l told you l had
1 never seen the grave l am seeking. l
/ have been here-as a child"
The Abbot's Walk" l repeated rehec-
/ lively. Here it must have been, then,
or somewhere close by, that the muffin
Gus monks pushed the poor old chap in
after the treasure that he had sunk in a
bag under the stagnant water. l heard
| the story to-day, and how neither the
body nor the treasure was ever found.
| think, if | come here to live, / must
have look for them" And l laughed.
Il wouldn't waste any time, if | were
you" she said IF you are coming to
live here, you may be able to make much
better use of it, il the story that your
pearances are deceiving.
What does my face tell?" / asked.
"That you are a man who thinks. What
will you do for me IL l give you a clew 2"
"A clew TO the Use | am to make Of
my timer"
''Ah, L was rights You do think, and
quickly Yes that was what | meant.
l hold the end of the skein."
Al.
darkness Her face and hair cleaned
moonlike her features scarcely distin-
guishable. save the great, mysterious
eyes, which glowed with the deep luster
of jewels
''Who are your: L cried abruptly. 1
had not meant to ask the question, but it
came, in spite of myself.
THAT does not signify" Her laugh
rang out girlishly. But you have not
answered my question. What will you
give for a clewT
lis there something you would have
me do for you? II so, l assure you it is
unnecessary to offer me bribe.'
Il always like to give good value for
what receive. / do want something
in particular of you, though, it is possi-
BILE thag l shall get it without your aid"
II don't understand your / exclaimed.
How odd it would be il you did! l
don't always understand myself. The
favor |. want of you is TO arrange that
shall meet your uncle, Sir Wilfrid
Amory."
A vague suspicion of the woman be-
gan to mingle with my unutterable be-
wilderment.
| You wish to meet my uncle. WhyT'
! There are so mfny reasons. Sir VIII
/ frid is a man whom everybody wants
/ to know Maybe Il am vulgarly ambi-
| tious, and have desire to meet celeb
rites. Maybe it is. because he may come
to live in a place in which l am-inter-
ested Maybe l write for the papers, and
am anxious to interview him. OF all
these 'Inaybes, l give yod your choice.
IF you would tell me your true rea-
son l began; but she cut me short.
"A man of the world asks a woman
for her reason! | want TO meet Sir Viii
frid, because-I want to meet him.
have asked you 4 fayor-a very simple
enc"
Her voice was as sweet as a sirens
/ promised that she should know my I'M
Gle. We had been progressing slowly
along the Abbot's Walk. but now she
stopped abruptly. and L heard her draw
in breath with gasp that was almost
4 sob.
"over there's ahe grave she whis-
pered. pointing.
My eyes followed the direction OF her
finger, and l saw the pale CLEAN of a
stone among the glass. 1t stood up, tail
| and straight, under tree-a lonely
thing. which spoke OF death and desola-
ton.
Gomez she said
Mechanically l Followed. through the
sodden tangle of weeds, until she and
stood together by the side Of the mound
''Will you strike two or three matches
and let them burn in a bunchg' she ask
ed
/ did so, and the flame rose steadily
sheltered in the hollow of my hand. The
/ concentration OF light shut the curtain
of darkness more closely round us
FLORENCE Hara..S. Died July il
1892. Aged "A.
| read the short: epitaph aloud. And
the naIne rang in my memory with the
knowledge that l had heard it before
that it had To do with some unpleasant
/ associations Which could not recall
Then Suddenly it came back TO iAe. with
a sense OF Irritation. that | should have
barred my head fot moment beside the
grave Of 4 creature so vile.
Pair I exclaimed. not endesvoring
TO conceal my disgust 1T is monstTouS
that this woman's bod shout have beer
put here. She otgn1 to be lying in s
prison hurying ground"
Ought sheT' asked my strange com
panion in 81 new aad childlike way. look
ing up at me froni her knees, while mJ
matches burned out. Tell me about
her will your
Don't You know . l asked. suspicious
~. This woman. Florence Haynes, was
murgeress. Thc story began twenty
odd years ago. wish an old woman who
had once been a servant in this very
house. When she unexpectedly received
a legacy from relative in Australia she
chose 10 sink : GOOD many thousand
pounds OF her money in buying LORI
Abbey. which had just at that time beer