The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1906-05-16
CHAPTER TX.
Continued.

III the lace, ana ne turned req anu pale
and all colorS at once; and why did he
keep winking with both eyes,"
81 believe that Tom and he were not
exactly friends. But he said he would
made inquiries"
"He certainly said he would, whether
he means to or not; but why shouldn't
he? He will send in a bill for his SER
vices, I suppose. Katherine, if I were
you I would put in that advertisement
as soon as there was money to spare
for it,"
But of money, alas! there vas none.
When the girls were gone, James sat
down with a perturbed countenance
and an unquiet heart. He had no
longer any desire to sleep.
b Presently he rang the bell, and one of
the old clerks answered it.
Il want" he said, pretending to
search among the papers, ito find the
last receipt for an annuity which my
uncle used to pay to Captain Harry
Willoughby, who appears to have died
about six months ago"
The clerk brought the book with all
the receipts.
"This is his signature, is it? Very
good. The last, dated January, Of the
present year. Yes. Do you remember
Captain Willoughby"
Every we'll, sir"
"Where did he livew
II do not know. He came here once
a quarter and drew his money"
THANK you-that will do"
The signature Of the receipt CORE
sponded exactly with the writing Of
the torn letter. There was now not
the least room for doubt. This girl
Toms fancee-was the heiress of the
trust money. 1t was his duty-it was
his clear and certain duty-to give up
the whole of it. 1t was no longer pos
sible to juggle with words and to gloss
over things; the heiress was found-he
had to give up the whole of that trust
money to the girl. What a terrible
hole it would make in his income!
There was no other way out Of it. AS
flor what he had already done, courts of
Justice might take a harsh view of
that; but it was honesty itself com
pared with keeping the property now
that he had found the heiress. She
must have been led, he thought, to his
Office by the dead hand of Tom him
self. James Rolfe was not a supersti-
tious person, but he had read novels,
and he knew very we'll that dead peo-
pie do constantly visit evil-doers with
curses and bring trouble upon them,
especially when they have dealt wick
~edly with wards.
Yet, he thought, being q maj Of this
generation, and therefore little afraid
of dead hands, what harm could a dead
mans hand do to him compared with
what he would do to himself If he
gave up the property. And in what
words should he explain to Harriet?
And how would that dear creature re-
gard the loss of three-fourths of her
income and a return to the old life?
He put the torn scrap Of writing in
The safe along with the old letter from
Miss Willoughby, the only evidence of
the trust; and then, though it was only
half past three, he took his hat and
walked out OF the office. He could no
longer sit there. When he was gone,
some OF the former rest and calm re-
turned. The visit of the young ladies
had brought no work. The two old
clerks began to doze again. But the
boy, disturbed by the appearance Of
youth and beauty, and no longer able
to sleep, read a penny novelette,.
In the evening, James argued out the
whole thing with himself over some
stimulant and a pipe.
He was no worse off, he assured him
self, than he had been before the young
lady turned up. He knew, to be sure,
who the heiress was; he was not
Obliged, however, to know; there was
nothing formally and legally to connect
Miss Capel with the daughter of Cap
tain Willoughby. What did it matter
that he himself knew the fact, provid-
ed that he kept it to himself? No
.one could possibly find out that he
knew it. But oh! what a difference
there would have been if Tom had
known it before he went away! He
had promised Tom to give her all that
was left after the trust was paid.
A ridiculous promise extorted at a
moment when his mind was not in
the usual judicious balance. Ridicul-
u indeed! But no one knew it
except Tom. Yet he though it would
be we'll to keep the promise to a limit
ed extent. He might give her all the
money that was in Toms name in the
bank when he went away. How much
was it? Thirty pounds or so. He
would send-and then he laughed, re-
~membering a most r>markable occur
renee. He had quite forgotten to ask
the lady her address. Therefore he
could not send her anything. Nor
could he do anything at all.
1t was midnight. He sat in the Ii,
brary, which was perfectly quiet, be.
cause it was the back Of the house,
and everybody was gone to bed. Sud
denly-no man was more free from su.
perstition than James RoIfe-he fell
q h0rrid tremor seize all his limbs
and cold dews stood upon his forehead
It seemed as if Tom himSelf-his dead
cousin Tom-stood beside him. invisible
but audible, hurting reproaches a
him, calling him "Cur. Liar. Thief
Blacksuard," and similar Cngentie
manly DEMONSTRATING. in fact, a NEAR
advantage Of his chOStlineSS. He alsC