Catoctin clarion. [volume] (Mechanicstown, Md.) 1871-1940, 1902-09-04
lCopyright, 1895, b
CHAPTER XIX.
Continued.


...-~-u Continued. -'--
"Miss Bostal takes her part? l did
not think the dricd-up little creature
had it in herw said Clifford, with adj
mlration. II shall go and see her.
"That is just what she wants you
to do" replied Miss Lansdowne. "She
has said so to me so often that l
thought, when l saw had chance
of speaking to you, l would not let
it slip"
at is very good of you,' said Cliff
ford. (Which was the dance you said
l might havc?"
The next morning, before luncheon
time, he was at Stroan.
1t was u 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 Jcm 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 at
the Blue Lion had by this time faded
in their minds, rclcgatcd 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 its doors closed,
its shutters barred, with broken
panes in its upper windows, it was
a drcary contrast to the little inn he
had known. No markct-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. 70 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 n
southwestcrly gale. now blocked the lit
tie bit Of ground which formed the front
garden. 1t had injured the corner of
the house in It's fall, had carried away
one of the outside shutters Of the
drawing-room front window and
smashed half a dozen of the small
pancs 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
that 1t 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 behind the meager muslin cur
tain.
Was it or was ii not Miss BostarS?
For a moment he stood undecided with
his hand upon the gate. Had some
terrible calamity-the death Of the
Colonel, the illness of his daughter
fallen upon the place like a blight?
Should he go back and make inquiries
at 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 a dollhouse.
He thought he would knock at the
door and try to find out something, and
was retrcating for that purpose, when
Il 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
windows, the one at the side and the
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
as to why, in that case, the upper
front rooms had had their blinds up
when he heard the sound of some
one within drawin 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
ly nervous about the safety of her
own little person and not very valua-
| bic property.
You are well secured against bur
glars, 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 o
tone of acute terror. Don't make
jokes about it. It's too dreadful! /
never feel safe! Last night Ohr'