Lincoln County leader. [volume] (Toledo, Lincoln County, Or.) 1893-1987, 1907-07-05

That strange, sudden disappearance of
Mrs. Castleton had been terrible blow !;
it had driven him almost into a delirium !:
for never had he felt how omnipotent was
her influence until now that she seemed
lost to him forever. In vain he sought
to trace her; in vain he sought to account
for her disappearance. At times, a
thought crossed his brain, too terrible to
dwell upon. Was she one of that race,
and did she fcar that her love might work
upon him only the fulfillment of curse? ?
He remembered the extraordinary emotion
she manifested during the recital. And
once or twice a yet wilder and more i'm
probable idea rose up amidst the phantas-
magoria of his mind, excited by a fancied
resemblance that he traced in the pale, set
features framed by the black hair Such
thoughts must be a symptom of madness !;
he thought the grave could not give back
its dead, and she lay buried in Penrhyd-
dyn churchyard.
These thoughts, for the hundredth
time, were passing through his brain.
And brooding thus, there came into his
mind the thought to go and look at that
strange picture, which he had not seen
since the day on which old Daniel had
told him the legend. Casting glance at
the sleeper, he crept out of the room. He
was not aware of the removal of the
painting, but his way to the western tur-
ret lay through the picture gallery. And
upon entering it, one of the first objects
his eyes fell upon was the portrait Of
Elonore de Scissors.
1t was sudden shock to see that pale
dark face looking out from among the
portraits of his ancestors. To his excited
fancy, there was look of triumph in his
eyes that seemed to say, "At last"
Most ominous to his fatalistic creed was
this circumstance. For two hundred
years." he thought, at has lain amongst
dust and rubbish, and now IL Is brought
down and fixed here in the position that
during all that time was its right. What
can it portend, but the speedy destruction
of the race upon whom she put her male
diction?"
He had no difficulty in guessing whose
hands had placed the picture there; no
one but his father would have dared to
thus brave Fate.
And now he fell to scrutinizing those
features. Although they had been craven
upon his boyish memory in unfading lines,
he tried to clear his mind of fancies, and
then to endeavor to discover how true
or how false was its supposed resemblance
to Mrs. Castleton. In expression, save
the last time he saw her, there was no
resemblance; there was stern melan-
choly upon the countenance of the por-
trait, which found no counterpart upon
that of the living woman. But its con-
tour, its dark eyes and hair, were like
so like, that it called up the dear image
of his love with painful force.
"Oh, where art thou, my beloved?" he
exclaimed, passionately. "Why hast thou
fed from me? Come backbone back
Thou art my fate, my destiny, whether for
good or evil, and l am thine; and were
it the spirit of Eleonore de Scissors her.
self, returned to this world of woe to
avenge her wrongs, my love would be the
same!'
A long, low wall swept through the gal
lery as he spoke those words. 1t was only
the wind, but to his over-excited imagina-
tion it sounded like the cry of depart
ing spirit. He shuddered at the thought,
and walked softly back to his fathers
room. Sir Launce was still sleeping, snd
the nurse, whose place he had supplied
for a short time, having returned, he was
relieved of his watch.
He felt oppressed and feverish, and
putting on his hat, went out into the
open air. The cool, fresh breeze was in
vigorating, and the damp, leafy smell
of the woods was grateful to him after
the close atmosphere of the sick chamber.
Scarcely needing what direction he
took, he walked on, deep In thought, until
he approached the coast. Right in front
of him stood John Trevethick's cottage:
The sight of this spot recalled to his
mind that he had not seen the old fisher
man for some years. He would .ook in
upon the old man he would be sure to
find him at home, as age prevented him
now from leaving his cottage.
1t was now nearly dark; the last dim
twilight was fading fast out of the cold
gray sky. The door of the cottage stood
wide open, but there was no light within.
nor any sign or sound Of human life. He
stood upon the threshold, and called
John Trevethick -
There was no answer. But he heard
slight rustic, as of woman's dress, and
the sound of breathing. Again he called
John Trevethick, are you there?"
A low, terrified female voice answered,
"Who is that?"
at Is 1, Arthur Penrhyddyn," he an
swered, quickly. "Who are you?"
A faint cry was his answer. He sprang
into the hut, saw a moving body before
him, stretched out his arms, and the next
moment woman's head was leaning up
on his breast, and soft voice whisper
ing Arthur"
Even now he could not credit the evi-
dence Of his senses, it was so marvellous,
so beyond all belief. Yet she lay upon
his bosom, clinging around him, her
breath upon his cheek. All he saw it
all F! She had repented of her hight-she
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