Catoctin clarion. [volume] (Mechanicstown, Md.) 1871-1940, 1905-06-22
CHAPTER vi.
Hss-,

trouble us no more"
She looked so confident and yet SO
discouraged, that he did not know
what to say. 1t seemed dreadful to
leave her thus. and yet neither in look
nor tone could he discover any induce.
ment to stay. All the light had gone
out of her face, and she seemed only
n waiting image, eager for him to be
gone.
He drew deep breath and held out
his hand. "To-morrow, thcnT' said
he
She nodded, sighed, and something
like a sob seemed to rise in her throat.
ooh, go!" she cried, go, go" And
she let her hand touch his before she
pointed toward the door.
81 will be here ut three" he muir
INJURED. And tearing his gaze away
from her dropping face and figure, he
dashed across the threshold and out
into the hall. AS the door closed be-
hind him. her sobs broke their bounds
and he distinctly heard her moan. But
lie dared not go back.
"This last mystery is worse than the
first" so he commented. rs he reached
the street "IS the Portuguese
demon. Or" He did not complete
his sentence, for just then he caught
Sight of the figure of n man going on
before him toward the avenue, and
convinced that it was that of the
hated Montcl'i, he Quickcned his pace
in the hope of ovCrlaking him and com.
Ing to some sort of an explanation.
But as soon as his step run- faster,
that of tie man in front did the same,
and though he hurried to the full OK
tent which deccncy allowed, be did
not reach the man nor even catch the
car which the other managed to board
as it rushed down the somewhat steep
incline which marks The avenue at this
point.
When he came TO think of it. how.
ever, he was not sorry that he had
missed an encounter with man, of
whose resources and intentions he
could know so little. If the Signorna
WIS I'LL 1T lltllCNtt Iltl, Nlli Nbhlll ll'-
serve herself in safety till the morrow,
while if she We're not, the sooner lie
forgot the bewitching face and touch
ing manner, the better. Till to-mor-
row, then, he would be patient, mean.
while trusting that all good angels
would guard the rest of her whom in
his inmOSt heart be felt to he the one
woman chosen by Providence to be the
light and glory of his life.
His studio, when he returned to 1t,
remembrance. as cold and barren.
Though the signs of ideal life were
about him. and from every quarter of
the great room shonr images of beauty
and the creations Of art, he experienced
q sensation OF. dCSOlation and loncli-
ness that should have warned him
of tho depth of the experience which
he had undergone since ho had passed
out Of this place four hours before.
The picture Of the fair beauty was
the sole object which seemed to possess
any interest for him, and struck again
by the oddity of the coincidence which
had brought him face to face with the
woman who had unconSciously fur
nishcd him with the basis for this
painting, he lit all the gas Jets in the
room, and sat down to study This work
of his in the light of his late encoun-
ter.
1ily, IN nd ynt
her The features, the grace, the color
ing were all there. but the humanity
which made her Countonancc SO en-.
gagnC, was lacking from this dream
like face.
II have n fairy here" he muttcrcd,
"but she Is Il woman. Would it have
been better if had left her such in the
painting? No; or | should have had
no Dream to match my beautiful
Reality" And he tore from Ills port
folio the sketch which hc had made of
the siynorina, and, with a heart throb-
bing too fast for comfort, placed 1t
beside the painting he had just been
contemplating. and sat down again to
study them and compare.
O the exquisite contrast between
thcm And o the touching grace of his
now idol. Could any one see such
face and not love it? Ham
ilton Dcgraw could not. Without
struggle, without fear, without any
doubt of the wisdom Of such an aban-
donmcnt, he let his whole heart so in
this hour of silent rCVeric, and it was
not to the rich ANA gracious unknown
that it fled, but TO the poor, the desc
late and to the mcnaccd singer, with
her wOctu past ana rcrishCd ambition.
1t three O'Clock the next day he
stood again before her house. He had
looked for MuntclIi all the morning;
he had even vaguely expected the
Portuguese hut his quiet hal been uns
disturbed and his studio unvisitcd. It
was, therefore, with faint apprchon-
sions of possible evil that he rang the
bell ana waited for the answer, which
was longer in coming today than it
was yesterday.
At last, after two or three smart
rings, the door swung back, and hC
saw the same nanc-lookn" girl before
him, backed by the same unfurliShcd
and lonesome hall; but there was no
loneliness there for him. She was
within, and that would have made
prison walls attractive.
"The Signorna Valdi?' he inquired.