Oxford eagle. (Oxford, Lafayette Co., Miss.) 1876-current, 1903-07-16

finished her sentence. He darted into
a nearby court, and was to be seen
no more. Francesca was visibly an
noyed. That evening she pleaded with
me to remain at home, but l had a
special engagement. AS l went out
l cautioned the night porter to let no
one disturb her.
/ had previously ordered carriage;
It was waiting at the curb. / stepped
forward, and, STOPPING over, pulled
open the door. That instant pair OF
long, bony hands pushed through the
aperture and clutched me by the
throat. With a strength that seemed
to be Herculean was dragged inside,
bound hand and foot, and gagged.
"Maledittol" exclaimed the one with
the fingers in CULTURAL snarl, and l
recognized the voice of the old signor.
The other was Pietro. The latter slid
out, climbed to the box, and lashed
the horses into gallop.
/ tried to cry out, but with the gag
I was dumb. Fancy my state OF
mind
Finally we brought up before a for
bidding-looking house in narrow, de-
serted street, and 1 was lifted to the
curb. The horses were given their
heads, and as they wandered aimlessly
away into the night / was roughly
seized, carried in through a dark hall
way, down a narrow passage to a
squalid, dingy room, where / was de-
posted on the floor. Pietro locked the
door after us, then said something to
the signor in Italian that made the old
man growl with fiendish approval. The
latter, turning to me with sardonic
leer, muttered: make happy re mo-
ments; 1t ees few" Both went out
through another door, and / heard the
bolt slide into place.
They were going to murder me. and
DO it with diabolical finesse.
l was given the tortures of anticipa-
tion while they leisurely discussed the
method. My thoughts wouldn't come
cohesively, for my brain grew soggy
and obstinate and refused to compre-
hend
All at once, as If struck with blow,
Francesca came into my head. Fran
cesca! / could see her, at home, tucked
in her dainty bed; her beautiful face
nestled softly against the pillow.
But the bolt clicked, the door opened
and my executioners had returned.
With stealthy, catlike movements they
approached me; l was helped to my
feet and placed upright in an angle
of the room. Pietro glided back, leav-
ing the old signor standing before me;
his hard, rigid face set; in his eyes
the cold, sinister CLEAN of pent-up hate
and ferocity.
Facing me, and assuming the dignity
of Roman judge, he proceeded in a
solemn. vibrating voice. mo man can
leeve who deeshonor re name PAUL..
Francesca, my honor, my love, re steal.
To-day she re meestris, tomorrow
worse. Ze play &c game-ze lose. |
kill you"
Leaning forward with a aconvulsive tre-
NOR. thought he was about to plunge
the blade into my heart. How l
strained for speech-but the gag, Twas
dumb. All, why did he not strike!
l was dying thousand deaths.
For an instant there was the still
ness of the tomb; then the rumbling
wheels of a carriage sounded from
without. Suddenly this stopped, a voice
called "Whoa!" Then the pattering
of fast moving feet in the passageway;
somebody violently grasped the knob
of the door to the room-it would not
open.
The signor and Pietro stood breath
less, .transfixed.
A KEY scraped in the lock, the door
flung back; on the threshold stood
Francesca.
"Matre di Dio!" hoarsely breathed
the old man.
Francesca, scantily attired, hair dis
heveled. her eyes ablaze with fever
ish glow, her cheeks whittier than ala
baster.
My heart gave a great throb of joy.
A moments hesitation, and she
grasped the meaning of the scene be-
fore her in one overwhelming i'm
pulse. With a heartrending cry of an
guish she leaped forward, seized the
signor's hand, and fell on her knees
before him.
Father! father! For the love of
Jesus spare him! Kill memo, wait!
See what 1 have got! Wait, father;
that's a good father!" She fumbled
in her bosom and drew forth paper.
"There, father, see; he's my love, my
life!"
Back, child; zee ees my deeshonor,
I kill himi" he replied, as he spurned
her from him.
Frantic with alarm, she rushed up
to Pietro. "Pietro, my brother. you
love me-see. read! i am his wife,
Pietro took the paper reluctantly,
glanced at it skeptically, suddenly gave
start and read eagerly.
Father! father!" he almost
screamed. "Come-look, it is mar
riage certifcatel"
With hurried stride the old man
was at his side. They examined the
document with alr pst frenzied cum
ming. In low, quick tones they dis
cussed its import. Pietro, well versed
in English, seemed satisfied, and was
explaining to the father.
Meanwhile Francesca had not been
idle; the old man in the furry had
dropped his stiletto. She secured it,
and in a twinkling my bonds were cut
and she was smothering my face with
the sweetest kisses mortal man ever
welcomed.
Well, 1 guess you can figure out the
rest. They were satisfied the mar
riage certificate was all right. and it
was. You remember told you Fran
cesca and had returned from little
expedition of our own that afternoon.
1t was then we were married.