Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1903-08-31

the farmer briefly for his help, and Mmped
in pursuit of John. who had not once slack
ened his pace at her call. When she came
up with him he was halfway back toward
the Widows cottage.
"Mr. Mercer" she cried. as soon as she
had overtaken him. lowering her voice to
not to go there. He's in great trouble. very
great trouble and distress. and 1t would be
cruelty to worry him now"
"Cruelty?" sang out John. In tone which
showed how deep was his displeasure; AYE,
that's the word to use when criminals
run to earth. that isr'
Criminal? Why do you call him a crimi-
nal? You're only guessing, guessing reck-
lessly, because you're prejudiced against
himY' cried Piety. Indignantly.
John, whom this straightforward contra
diction exasperated more than he would
have cared to own. answered in a calm
and measured tone. full Of unyielding stub
bornness:
"Prejudicei Aye. maybe I have a preju
dice against evil doors. Miss Piety, and it's
one as share with every honest man..
And he tramped down the hill without
pause, not even appearing to notice how
painfully Piety with her injured ankle kept
pace with him.
mr. Mercer" cried she. when they were
within a hundred yards Of the dark and ST.
lent house. Il want to ask q favor of you,
IL want to beg-win you, at least. nsten?"
For John had not even Slackened his pace
There was something in this logged, stolid
unresponsive attitude infinitely more alarm
ing to her than the worst of NigePs moods
Of passion had ever BEEN
He now said. in the same level tone,
without turning his head:
Anything as you've got to say, Miss
Piety. Of course I'll listen to with pleasure"
Still he did not turn his head. or appear
to notice her limping gait.
II want to ask you. to beg you. to Inn
plore you not to go into the house"
John gave a short laugh. or snort, or ex-
clamation-the sound could hardly be de-
scribed.
Sorry I can't oplige you, but must do
what 1 think my duty. And I beg. Miss
Piety, as you'll go back, and not try for to
hinder me. I'm a man of my word and
what l make up my mind to do I'll do.
An you'll only make it unpleasant for us
| all by coming on with me-"
For he was crossing the road toward the
gate of the yard as he spoke, and Piety,
| instead of turning back, was making a
| desperate effort to get in front Of him.
| the same tone, II see you've hurt your foot
| If you'll take my advice you'll wait here
outside, while 1 have it out with this ras-
| CAL"
Piety did not even answer him, but
| limped on, supporting herself by the farm
er's stick, which she had borrowed, to the
very door of Treveddoe's house.
But before she could knock John had
| forestalled her. Making sudden dash for
ward, he ratified at the knooker with q
| force which threatened to pull 1t of, and
| then, without further ceremony, opened
| the door and put his head In.
| Piety, who was close behind saw all that
| happened. The front room was quite dark.
Then, in answer to the summons, the inner
| door, which was opposite to the front one.
| was opened slowly, and Nigel himself came
/ into the room.
But something which had taken place
during the twenty minutes that she had
been absent had worked such startling