The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1907-01-23

tablecloth there arose a pink glow
which cast over her pallid face a rosy
hue of life. But it vas a soulless
life, and the young Englishman
WINGED as he met those vacant, plead
ing eyes.
Meyer motioned him to stand aside
in a corner near the ikon, where the
tiny oil-lamp flickered little ruby
shafts of light across the holy pic
ture. Then he approached her, and
said
Marie, I have brought him"
The girl took not the slightest no.
tice; indeed, she did not appear to
hear his voice, but sat gazing dream
lily at her W hands lying idly on
the table before her. And now the
patient lover went to her side and
laid his hand upon her lifeless wrist.
Marie, he whispered; speaking
Russian for the first time in Mist
ley's. presence. "My little Marie! !
am Ivan-do you not know me?"
She slowly raised her eyes from
the contemplation CT her own hands,
and fixed them ~searchingly on his
face.
"Ivar!" she said at length, in a
sweet, deep voice. "You have come
already! Are they waiting to take
me away?"
who, my Marie?"
"The soldiers, for I have killed
him-I have killed him!" Her voice
died away to a whisper.
mo, you have not killed him.
Marie. He is 'here!" said Meyer,
speaking slowly, as n speaks to a
child. . &c, .f,H o'.'
WHO is here?". .'"..-t
"Winyard Mistley. He has come
at your own request!!"
mo, Ivan; I shot him at the
stream. I killed him. I shall neVe
see him again, for he is dead. I told
him to stop, but he came nearer; he
never took his eyes off mine-he
never hesitated; and as he came-as
he looked at mel thought it was
the other: He looked so brave and
calm; but-but the other is bigger
bigger and braveri" 80
When VINEYARD was excited, or at
moments when his nerves were on
tension, awaiting the time Tor &C
ton, he had a peculiar habit of draw
ing in his lips, first the lower and
then the upper, as if they were
parched and needed moisture. This
action made his square jaw look
squarer, and by sympathey his gray
eyes grew logged and dark beneath
the motionless lashes.
All this time he had been stand
ing in the darker corner of the little
room, with keen, observant eyes
upon the lovers. One brown hand
was re~ligiously executing Mr.. Ger
ny's No. / fve-fnger exercise on the
top of an old three-cornered oak
cupboard, and his lips were slowly
moistening each other. Perfectly
calm and collected, watchful, alert,
and keen, he waited his time. At
last he stepped forward, and with q
little sign to Meyer to let him speak,
he said:
"No, Mademoiselle Bakovitch, you
the entirely mistaken. You did not
shoot me- .. .
The girl looked up at him with
eyes vague at first and wondering;
but gradually the rays Of reason
ing soul shone through them, and
with a motion of her hand toward
her soft hair over her temple, she
spoke: '."'
"You-here," she said, you!
Why have you come? Where is the
other? He does not come. I want
him; not YOU" 81
She rose from her seat, and wan
dered vaguely up and down, glancing
at the two men from time to time
furtively, with troubled, d~istrustful
eyes. 1t seemed as If reason had
completely forsaken her brain, for
she murmured incoherently in a
strangely medley of languages.
After a few moments she suddenly
recovered her senses, and appeared
to recognize the two men again. 1t
was a terrible sight, and even Win
yard Mistley looked pale and bewil-
dered, while his companion watched
Marie with the dull calmness Of de-
spair.
TTo hn continued0