Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1903-02-26

| really tired; l cannot talk more to-
! night. l will see you again tomorrow
yes, tomorrow"
But as the young man shook hands
with him, and wished him good night.
| he saw a look on the old doctors face
which suddenly drove all thoughts of
| the secret out of his head, and made
| him very gentle and solicitous, and al
most reverent, so that he retreated
! from the room reluctantly, with the
| soft steps and measured tread Of one
who leaves solemn presence-cham-
| Der, turning at the door for one long
| look at the man who had received him
! so great a trust. AS he stood there
silent and quite motionless, DR.. Peele
! turned round, and, perhaps reading
| the expression of the young mans
| face, held out his hand with a wan
/ smile. ArmathWaite returned quickly,
and took the lean, dry fingers tenderly
! in his warm, healthy hand. The firm
! clasp seemed for a moment to com
municate little life and vigour to the
! shrunken and bent invalid; and he re
turned the grip with kindly hearth
ness.
Il am glad, more glad every day
every hour, Of your coming" he said,
in a weak voice. Il can rest now
know that | am leaving a head behind
me when I am gone. I have left you
this writing-table with the papers it
contains. They will tell you all you
wish to know; you will keep them I'M
der lock and key as [ have done. Good
night God bless you, Armathwaite!
With long, earnest gaze into each
others face, the men parted; and it
was with a new and solemn sense of
duty and responsibility, Swallowed by
grave fear that the young closed the
door of the sick-room behind him. His
mind, his heart, his whole being were
absorbed by the last solemn words he
had just heard from the doctors lips;
they rang in his ears as he went down
stairs, they echoed in his brain as he
stood, hesitating and cold with a new
sensation, in the dimly-lighted and
tiny hall. Then, with quick but not
hurried movements, he took his hat
and coat from the stand, and went out
of the house in the direction of Mere
side. He had felt again the prick of
the mysterious monitor which had
twice directed his steps against his
| will to Alma Crosmonts side. On
this third occasion, with the romance
| of her strange story strongly upon
| him, he started off without a doubt.
without a pause.
1t was a cold and starless night,
| with a mist in the air and a drizzling
| mixture of rain and sleet falling; the
reads were silent and deserted. 1t
was not until he had tramped fully
two of the four miles which lay be-
tween Branksome and Mereside that
he bethought him of the exceeding
awkwardness of his position, on the
way to visit a married lady against
| the express wishes of her husband
And then came a recollection which
made him pause and slacken his steps.
1t was the night of Ned Crosmont's
journey to Liverpool. With a flash
of discretion and of remembrance of
the conventionalities Armathwaite de-
cided that it was impossible for him to
go to the house in the absence of the
master, who had positively forbidden
him to approach his wife again. He
| turned back, and began to retrace his
steps at run. But then in the misty
air before him, as the sleet drove in
to his eyes, he saw Alma's face, white
, and wan, with the jaw drawn down
and the eyes fixed and staring, while
her voice seemed to whisper in his
ears as the wind and the snow and the
| rain Kissed past him:
Come, come, do not fail me nOw!"
He turned again, and the wind
seemed to cease and the air to grow
clearer. Full of solemn dread and
passionate anxiety, he strobe along in
the direction of Mereside without an
other moments pause.
To be Continued.