Vernon County censor. [volume] (Viroqua, Wis.) 1865-1955, 1902-06-18
CHApTER NIN.-(Coutinued.J


the ostensible possessor. Perhaps when
you think the matter calmly over you
will come to the conclusion that it would
be more advantageous 10 reside there
yourself. painful as it's associations may
be-"
She looked at the face of her antag-
onst. For one instant her courage seem-
ed to fail, for one instant the light and
strength aud defiance faded out Of her
face, and her voice broke forth IN
woman's last resource-appeal.
''What harm have ! ever done to yon,
she cried piteGusig, that you should per-
xecute me tfusY
MADAME he sa d, with low bow, II
do not persccute you. Far from it. am
but an Instrument of Fate, and l would
advise yru tar the best, if you would
only allow me But, like so many Of
your charming sex, you are impetuous,
you az seIf-willed. you will not listen TO
reason. You have chosen to look upon
me as an enemy; you viii not believe that
/ am your friend
"No." she interrupted. with return
of the old indignation, the old proud de-
fianee; your friendship, Count Sayona, is
little less dangerous than your enmity."
She moved away unsteadily. in an odd.
dazed fashion. ike one in a dream. In
deed, in looking back in the after days,
this scene did seem to her ike a dream
IAN evil one enough, with nightmare
like horror attending upon it that Il!ed
her mind with terror
The Count followed her to the door.
Il viii see you down the stairs" he
said, politely.
She shuddered, and drew back as il he
were some noxious thing.
No she cried. impulsively. There
Is no need. IL mean | have cab
waiting"
Very we'll, madame" he said, and
bowed, and returned to the room, leaving
her to make her way alone down the
dark and narrow stairs.
AS she reached the first landing some
thing dark and shadowy seemed to shrink
back into its gIoomiest corner; something
that in her perturbed state of mind she
scarcely noted. She reached the outer
door, and for moment stood alone on
the threshold, while the rain fell in plash- |
ing, noisy sheets. and the wind moaned
and whistled around the dreary houses, |
and the dreary street.
The driver, sitting shivering on his box, |
at the windows, that utter indifference TO |
the discomfort Of the elements. SO sig |
nifcant Of a preoccupied mind And |
some one else noted it, a solitary figure. |
bronzed and worn-looking passing |
through the street. Perhaps the fact of
his so noticing it, or some instinct or
impulse impossible TO define, stayed his
hurrying steps, and led him to approach
h., oal 4 h., l,lfrar driv
lie laid his hand on the handle to open
the door for the lady-he felt she was
lady even before the low sweet voice
murmured scarce conscious thanks for
the service dv1e. Something in that
voice seemed to startle him as he heard
It. He leant forward eagerly.
s'It is-it can't be. Why, yes--if it
amt the blessed little gentleman's moth
err
''Tomr' she cried, and her hands went
out to seize his own, and her white face
looked up to him in the Pickering lamp |
light. TON, is it really you? Here |
-"
ut is, ma'am. Here / am back again, |
like bad shilling. and after sucn a fight
for dear life with those Mexican saw
ages as ne'er a soldier in this here bless
ed old England ever dreams of"
"And-and your masterY she faltered,
wondering why all that mountain of trou-
bic seemed to be rolled from her heart
and her life. at the bare thought OF the
proximity OF that ane most faithful
friend.
.My masters very i'll, ma'am," said
Tom gravely. ut was just life and
death, and those foreigners they didn't
know what to DO with him, aud none of
them could fetch the bullet out. and
some say it's in his lungs. and some it's
In his shoulder, and some it's n his side.
And so. one day they says to lae Take
him to England and what with prize
money and one thing or another, | scrap
ed enough for his passage. and | worked
my own, and-well, here we are
And you've been with him always
you've never left him all these years
you good, faithful Tom
She was weeping now, weeping softly
and unrestrainedly in this mingled glad
ness and sorrow thet had come to her.
''Of course. I've been with him. ma am.
You told me- as how nothing | could do
to serve you would be half as much 10
you as if | was a true friend 20 Mr..
Grant. and I'd lay down my life for him,
ma'am, ttrat would -cheerful-any mo-
ment that would serve him.
I'm sure you would. Tom-oh. I'm
sure you would."
She was sobbing SO passionately that it
hurt him to hear her, and the impatient
cabman growlcd out an Interrogation to
know how much longer he was to wait.
Don't take on SO, ma'am don't" en-
treated Tom. Mr.. Grant is sure to live
He's stronger than you think and III
write to you, ma'am, if you'd like to
hear. and tell you how he gets on. and"
Yes. DO. Tom-lo.' she cried, dashing
the tears away from her eyes And look
here" She thrust handful of gold
and silver into his hands. Take that.
Tom You must-indeed. YOU must. and
get him medicine, wine-anything he
needs. He won't low and be won't
question. but. Oh Tom. he mustn't die
my last friend. my only friend. Oh,
heaven will not be SO cruel as 10 take
him from me-"
No. ma'am. not bit OF it, said Tom,
Cheerfully; he aint a-goiu' to die, never
you fear. And now, where am ! 20 tell
tllis growing old idiot. who's SO afraid
of voting his precious clothes. TO drive
your
The Charing Cross Hotel she said.
and Tom touched his hat and withdrew
from the cab window, and made mental
note of the address. little dreaming how
soou and how strangely that scene was
70 be recalled 20 his memory,