Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1907-04-12

VIII.
John Broom, the under-gardener, had
tiny cottage to himself right at the emo
of the Wilton House plantation. He had
only been in his situation few months.
but already Mrs Molyneux was trusting
him entirely, and giving great +s aeai htt up
pony-carriage at times when Miss Molly
neux wanted to go into the Market Town.
He was a handsome young fellow, with
curly brown hair, and ne wore E.s %e he
been engaged for else but gardening his
mistress would have objected to the latter
adornment but the gaf care tbey WIKI liked
The day after he had carried 1ne mowers
to Wilton House from the conservatory at
Southara, sudden sparkle IN MS eyes h ann
look of pleasure on his race mace MN
altogether different man.
Here and there were dead leaves 10 sweep
IN for the melting snow had left havoc De-
hind it and, a sudden thaw setting IN,
everything was damp and moist. Sometnlne
white, like paper, attracted his attention
it was lying in the form of sheet ana
was half folded up. Who could have
dropped it, and what might it be? without
the slightest intention but of restoring II
10 it's owner. could he discover the latter,
he picked it up and looked at 1T.
There were few lines written there IN
All at once the under gardener started
as if he had been shot. A great whiteness
came to his face his knees tremoled, ana
for a few seconds everything seemed to
swim before him. What was it he read?
Did his eyes deceive him, or was ne dream
ing? ooo - nov Mart stiles the sum of
eight hundred pounds yearly, IN quarterly
installments of two hundred pounds, IN
consideration OF his silence as TO the aAaAi
of Jan. Goth. 1895"
Slowly Julian Horley, the outcast and
wanderer who, for his own nasty SIN, was
he loved-all that made life worth having
slowly he spelled over eacn Word again
and again, pinching himself to make sure
that he was not in trance:
$50 I have been tricked, cheated, and
All the blood in his body seemed to centre
in his brain. and his head seemed spinning
round He staggered against the nearest
tree for support, still holding on to the
paper-the paper which might mean every ~
thing in the world to him-and all the
"silence-silence! Eight hundred a year
for silence!"
The next instant he looked up, and saw
he was not alone. A young, slight girl was
regarding him with eyes OF aston aiaa emu
muttering under his breath. Fedore was
not coward, and always saved her mother
all unpleasantness. She would tackle the
Broom! Are you i'll? What is the mat
ter? What have you got there that seems
Even as she spoke her conscience re-
proved her. The man was not intoxicated,
but merely overcome by some mental
He had letter of some kind in his hand.
At the sound of her voice, the glance OF
her eye. a marvellous change came over the
man. He pulled himself together all at
''It is this, madam, I have found. Per-
haps you can tell who is the owner OF lt?'
His hands trembled as he gave it to her.
But Fedore saw nothing-guessed nothing
All her attention was given to the words
the per Then one
her hand was pressed to her heart as il
to still some sudden pain there.
''I knew 1t! knew it 90 she murmured
And something very like smile lit up her
beautiful features. "Ah, Julian, if only I
could find you. II only could tell you al
them All, dear Heaven! What shall I do?
Who is there to help me in this strait? 2,
''Will you trust me, Miss Molyneux?"
Like whisper in answer to her prayer
came the voice. And Fedore, as she looked
into the clear. grey eyes which reminded
her so painfully of Julian, knew that she
that Broom, the under gardener, would
help her if he could. But alas! there
IF :you, will entrust that to me, Miss
loved name-"I will Go what can. Let
me have a few days. At the end Of that
time, if he is alive, Mr.. Julian Horley shall
stand before you, as l am doing.
'You fool! You careless scoundre1! Do
to actually drop that paper on the way to
the inn? Do you know what it means to
if it had been picked up by anyone who
has a spite against me?
fronted the angry Ferdinand Horley He
had come up to the Hall with a piteous
tale. Last night, on his way to the inn,
he must have dropped the paper out OF his
- l1I Ian@ A1ynrx