The Montgomery advertiser., 1908-04-05

he would let the riddle remain un- solved.
 Suddenly there occurred q fantastic. dreadful thing. From the dead monks nose there began to ooze a little stream of blood. It crept slowly to- ward the beard. where 1t lost Itself.
 How stranger exclaimed Kenyon.
 DO you know the old supersti- tion?" said Miriam with a smilG from which Kenyon involuntarily turned his eyes Perhaps his murderer has just entered the church."
 the two men passed on. The beautiful woman looked steadily down at her dead enemy. Thou shalt not scowl me down." said she. Neither now or when we stand together at the judg- ment seat fear not to meet thee there"
 She rejoiaed Donatello. and the two gardens of the Villa Medici My heart shivers." said he. Anxiously MI. riam tried to rouse hing by caresses and endearments. He listened gloomily and absently. Ills answers were heavy and slow. At last Miriam realized that the terror of the dead had everpowered the love that ne had felt for her. Resolutely she arose and told him that they must part for ever. She said. "Farewell," and paused not unhopeful of arousing him to ms old affection. but he replied Fare we'll" in a low voice that seemed to come from far away.
 Miriam bent her weary feet slowly and falteringly toward Hilda's tower. As she approached she saw that the curtains were still tightly drawn. Up there Hilda sat. her eyes red with weeping. So she had sat all night mourning the guilt of her friend and rf she had thus beheld for the hrst time Hour after hour passed. and still her mind went on It's torturing round, ever returning to the scene at the rock. Suddenly there came knock at the door and Miriam entered. She stepped | toward the girl. Do not come nearer, Miriam" said Hilda in piteous voice. q know all" And. hurried on by her own terrible emotion, she told Miriam what she had seen.
 "I do not dream of betraying you to | justice" she concluded. But see how | 1t is Miriam. must keep your secret | and die of it. unless God sends me some 1 relief by methods which are now be- | yond my power to imagine.
 | Poor Hilda turned from her unhap- py friend and sank on her knees in | a corner of the room. Miriam gave | the little doves nest one long last look and turned away from it's white l purity forever. | Donatello fled to his domain of | Monte Beni and there spent the suc- l ceeding days in anguish and the bodily | and mental self torture that his re- l ligious faith taught him to inflict | on himself as penance. He was blessed l with no rest, day or night. So Ken yon. who iourneyed out to Tuscany to visit him. found him, sadly altered. The face. as beautiful as ever. had l lost almost all it's resemb lance to the Faun Of Praxiteles. Sorrow and knowl- edge had come into 1t in the stead of the joyous innocence of only few month ago. and only in very rare mo ments. when sudden old time smile sped over his countonsnce. did the happy, glorious woodland creature shine out once more.
 Vainiy did Kenyon strive to awak eu 1 in him again the told torrent of buoy ant life. Donatello would neither laugh nor play. He met all Kenyon's remonstrances with the reply that he had committed a heinous crime for which there was no penance great enough.
 At last the sculptor prevailed on | him to take horse and ride forth through the Apennine country. At | every shrine, al every cross on the l wayside. Donatello alighted and prayed | fervently. and again and again the sculptor, waiting for him, thought that he saw a woman, heavily yelled pray yins at other shrines near by
 Thus they arrived at last at Perugia
 and in the great square under the statue of the Pontiff Julius they met Miriam face to face. She looked al