Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1907-03-19

In the night silence. 1t was nearly eleven
O'Clock. Who would call at such an
hour? Clearly no one to see Mrs. Ben
ham. My suspicion pointed to a visit
from old Peter. who on some pretext
might have come to assure himself as to
my being an inmate.
Some one has come to the house."
said to Psyche, as the knock was repeat
ed. Il must go and see who it is. Stay
here"
Yes, 1 viii rot go away again. You
will find me here when you come bach"
went up 20 the house and passing
by the side, peered cautiously out into the
front garden. A man was standing by
the door in the full light of the moon; it
was Sir Henry Duncan.
He came toward me holding out his
hand when | showed myself. l was too
surprised to speak, but 1 took his hand
1t was moist and cold, and trembled pal
pably as he put it into mine. For a mo-
ment he was silent; then he spoke in a
quick, unsteady voice:
1T is not the first time / have had to
apologize to you, Mr.. Thorne," he said ;
you know my weakness too well to re-
| qUire an explanation. A weak man, q
weak man, led by uncomfortable impulses
into action that leads to modification
and regret. Ny -Ethel-has
told me story so strange"-he hesitated
passed his hand over his brow, and then
clasped the lattice-"so strange that it
would pass belief if it were not supported
by something you told me when we last
met-the story of young girl" His
voice sank so low that the last word was
hardly audible. "Can sit down? l feel
faint"
l led him into the back garden, and
IS he sank in the rustic seat his eyes
wandered in every direction.
"A feeble heart-the slightest emotion
upsets me-" he exclaimed; you have
seen that in the past"
| offered to fetcf some water, knowing
that he never drank anything stronger.
He declined. still looking from side to
side furtively.
81 am better. 1t is gone" he said,
though his voice belied him. II was say
ing, Mr.. Thorne, / came to apologize to
you. When you told me oil having found
fortune l secuted it as tie statement
Of a mailman. Now that | know that you
have been confined in those caves, and
what has happened there, anything is
possible. l know something of the his
tory of those caves-the land-slip that
closed them, and so on. 1 intended after
hearing the strange story from Ethel to
call upon you tomorrow, but found it
impossible to rest with this-this on my
mind"
1t seemed to me that here was much
ado about nothing; but his character had
always been 50 incomprehensible to me
that l was scarcely surprised By his I'M
necessary act of self humiliation.
Il had another motive in coming here"
he pursued after pause. From what
Ethel told me l thought that possibly /
n light be able to render you some assist
ance."
"Assistance?" l said, questioningly.
perhaps a version of the story that
Ethel told me, and which she, l believe,
learned from the poor girl who calls her
self Psyche, is misleading. May l ass'
you to tell me what really has happen
ed?"
| saw no reason for withholding the
facts from him, and | told him briefly
bow l had found Psyche, and how we
had escaped. He did not interrupt my
narrative with word but sat with his
eyes set on me as if he were transfxed.
Only when l dwelt on the awful solitude
oil the caves, the dark prison in which
Psyche had passed her youth, he drew his
handkerchief ont as IL to wipe his face
and, forgetting his purpose, sat lingering
it, as the dying finger the sheets of their
deathbed.
And lid she preserve her reason in
this livAg death?' he asked uneasily
when l ceased TO speak.
Yes. She is like one who Is begin
ming to live; that is ALL
At that moment he started to his feet
Psyche was on the lawn, her figure re-
vealed by the light dress against the dark
evergreens. She stood motionless looking
at him for a minute. and then, with a
cry of fear that had never heard before
from her. she ran to my side for protec-
ton, looking across me ar him with ter
ror.
"Ysu don't know me-" he gasped, look
ing not less terrified than she.
Was it you who put your arm through
the hedge with knife to cut me?" she
asked.
What does she mean?" he asked,
speaking to me quickly in French.
/ could not tell
mo, no." said Psyche IN a calmer tone,
''it was not YOU. Your hand is white
and thin, and long: that was like the
roots of the hedge"
do you understand" Sir Henry ask
ed me in low tone of pity that showed
he doubted her sanity l answered him
in French as he spoke to me that Psyche
might not comprehend
Yes, | understand it well enough"
said l. II know that hand, which COM
pares with the roots of the hedge. He
knows she is here, and passed along the
other side of that hedge not three hours
ago"
He who?' he asker sharply.
"Old Peter"
and as If the blow had reused his courage
he said TO Psyche with a firmness of voice
and manner contrasting strangely with
his previous nervous utterance.
THAT hand shall not brighten you
again. child" Then to me. as he turned
to leave the garden, he added, Il will
return when l have got that wretch out
of the way"
We heard him passing between the
corn and the outside of the garden hedge.
Trying TO conceal my uneasiness | wait
e6 anxiously for the result. Old Peter
! knew was not to be frightened away
b. the rustling corn: he would wait
down there, knife in hand. for whoever
might come. If had heard a death cry
from Sir Henry it would have been no
more than / expected. No such cry came:
yet l fsncied | heard old Peters growl-
ing voice. Half an hour passed and Sir
Henry had not returned.
When proposed to Psyche that we
should 90 look at the glowworm she as
sented at once.
You are not afraid now:'' asked.
She laughed.
Il could never fear anything w..sn you
are with me-" she said.
We were 1t the bottom of the garden