The Plymouth tribune. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1901-1911, 1908-07-30
CHAPTER XXIII.

CHAPTER XXIII.
Only man running stealthily, swiftly
| across field The moon has come from
behind a cloud, and is flooding all the
| land with its radiance. Every object
is for the moment discernible. And Hill
airy. his senses all alive, knows that the
man is Deane. He is hidden now behind
some heavy furze bushes-and now again
can be seen, keeping in the shadow as
much as possible, but still visible to the
clear eyes watching. Now he is lost
again. and now the breaking of a branch
on the quiet air tells Hilary he is a
| little ahead of him. He had run oblique-
ly across the fields, so as to overtake
them, and behind that low wall over there
he is crouching waiting. There is gap
just there-he will fire when the cart
| comes abreast of it.
They are at the gap now, and at this
moment dark figure rises from behind
the wall, and deliberately raises an arm.
| There is CLINT of steel in the moonlight.
Adare clutching Amber, drags her from
her seat to her knees, on the floor of the
dog cart, holding her there with cruel
force. No doubt this sudden action of
his, means to save her life, saves also
| his own.
A whiz of bullet over their heads
flash, thud of metal against the stone
wall opposite-a frantic dash forward OF
the frightened mare. and
They are safe. The good mare, tear
| ing along on the road to Carrig, is now
| getting slightly under control again, aid
ed by Hilary's hand and voice. The one
danger past, he had to encounter the 9th
! err; but a runaway horse seems child's
play to him when he knew that Amber
was safe, alive, unhurt. Brave and darl-
| ing girl She had not even tainted. He
| had spoken to her, You are not hurt
my darling?' and she had answered
NO." but had begged to stay where she
was for the moment, as il movement was
impossible to her. And with his hands
| full-and a terrified and spirited mare be-
ing Of no small count-he had let her
rest there on the floor of the cart, with
her dear, beautiful head against his knee
| Now, however, the good little mare has
| grown reasonable again. and Amber, al
most without help, raises herself to the
seat beside him.
| cit won't be very long now" says he
quietly, encouragingly. Not that she
wants courage, his brave ard beautiful
girl! With a miserable anger directed
against himself, he remembers again all
his past sins against her-his cruel sur
| misses, his contemplate suspicious. Here
on this lonely road, with nothing to break
the silence but the sound of the horses
hoofs upon the ground, the kind and
thoughtful night is making all things even
more clear to him-is showing him in
rich colors the sweetness and truth OF
! the lovely nature of the girl he loves
The night as a great purifier! 1t gives
us time and pause, if often terrible pain
| He would have spoken to her now
when they have reached the lower road
| and no impeachment can lie between them
and Carrig: would have poured out to
| her words of desperate apology, of heart
| felt grief and love. but something in her
stiffness checks him. Not here. Not now
1t would be to take her at a disadvan-
tage. In spite of the wonderful spirit
| that has kept her up so long. and that
has forbidden her to utter one cry OF
fear during all the terrible incidents OF
this horrible night, he can see that she
| is tired, exhausted, even to the point OF
| fainting.
She revives, however. as they reach the
| hall at Carrig, and Hilary having given
her into the astonished but very friendly
hands of May and Dolly, he goes straight
to the library, where one of the men
tells him Sir Lucien is to be found
"well, 1 have found the missing heir
LOOMS" says he at once, not calculating
| the result.
| Sir Lucien, with a wild exclamation
rushes at him. his lean old hands trem.
bling. his dull eyes on fire.
Found them. boy? Found them? That
Deane-that fellow-he has given them
p. She has consented then? Hah! ]
knew she would. Bad-bad, like her
| mother"
"Be silent ~ says the young man. with
such a cold force as checks the hideous
| almost insane, excitement on Sir Lucien's
face. "Have you forgotten everything
that it is of your own sister you speak
that she is dead?"
mo doubt" says Sir Lucien, with a
sudden attempt at his old dignity, y
spoke too quick-without sufficient
Thought"
Il must ask you as we'll to think more
carefully when next speaking OF your
niece" This face is set and hard.
"Of course. OF course. l see,' says
Sir Lucien, drumming on the table with
| quite pitiful agitation. "As you will
But'-rising and coming towards Hilary
with his form bent in a misery eager
gal.
where are theyT' Involuntarily the old
white, aristocratic hands go out, as il
to clutch the man before him, then are
drawn back, the fingers of one beating in
a sort of frenzy against the knuckles OF
the other. "Where are they, boy?"
Il have Them" coldly
"You-yOu Here?' The fingers now
are clawing the air, and all at once they
seize on Hilary's coat. They are mine
They are mine, Give them up-givt
them up Il say" shrieks Sir Lucien
Would you be robber, too"
All at once the fingers slacken, and he
would have fallen backwards but thai
Hilary, catching him i'm time, presses hin
gently into the armchair behind him. His
face looks old and yellow, and the eyes
dull.
Fray try to control yourself, sir,
says he, as he sees Sir Lucien slowly re
vive, and show the keenest interest agar
In the missing stones, in spite of thai
sharp tussle with death a moment since
There is no occasion for this extreme ex
element His tone is studiously courte
Gus, yet it is impossible to altogether con
troll the disgust that is coursing through
| every vein. IL have the stones. The,
Il 20 A..