The Plymouth tribune. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1901-1911, 1908-05-21

basest commonplace by a splendid old
mullioned window on the north side, and
the massive oak wood of the doorway 4
forbidding looking house, with the re-
mains of an old moat running round it,
that once perhaps was full of water.
but now is dry and overgrown with rank
grass and poisonous weeds. No doubt in
the past generation the river that flooded
it had been turned into another channel
to feed the old mill below, that now in
its turn is dry and silent too.
The sun to-day is shining too holly for
the comfort of one person at ali events.
Captain Adare. who has been out fishing
since early dawn, has now, as it draws
towards evening. reached the small river
Arrigaun, that beginning quite a long
way up between the shoulders of the two
big hills runs down here straight into
the arms of the old mill.
He looks TO right and left-but no one
comes in sight. and there is not a rising
cloud Of smoke upon the air to tell of
peasants cottage. Once again he turns
his glance on the old mill that had APP
peared so homeless a derelct TO him at
his first glance that he had given it up
as a means of communication with his
fellow creatures. Who could live there.
in that old wind-ridden barrack of place,
windowless, almost roofiess, a mere splen-
did ruin appearing its damaged head to
the skies-that never care?
His eyes sweep it carelessly. as II
knowing nothing is to be got from it, and
then all at once grow concentrated on one
spot-one opening. where a window in
the past no doubt had been. Surely there,
in the framework of it, someone can be
seen. He can hardly be sure, as the sun,
so brilliant half an hour ago, has now
capriciously retired, giving way to a soft
pale grey mist that rising, rapidly en-
velops most things in its delicate folds
Piercing the mist for moment, the
sun shines out again, making the figure
more prominent-tall, slender, girlish
THE Maid of the Mist" he tells him
self with smile. 'Well, anyway, sup
pose she can send me ON my way with or
without her blessing"
He wades through the river, banked so
closely and so shallow as to be hardly dig
nified by that name any longer, and tax
ing a fence, pulls up presently right un-
der the old mill. He has got beyond the
range of the window where the figure
stood and the old gaunt framework of the
place becomes a blank to him.
'Still she was there" he says to him
self, and going farther on, and rounding
a corner or two, finds himself in front of
huge opening in the walls; it was once
a doorway, no doubt, and of these door
. ha
farther on, but he stays at the first he
comes to, and, entering it, runs up bare
tottering staircase that is clinging, as it
were. to the wall on his right.
Before going up this rotten treadway
he had noticed distinctly, yet with in
difference at the time, the mark of an
arrow-a small black arrow painted on
the side of the wall by which lie had come
in--an arrow pointing downwards.
Now he has come to the top of the
stairway, and bowling his head beneath an
arch that has been built very low, finds
himself upon floor, that once had had
many a bushel of grain upon it, but is
now broken and rotten, a mere trap for
unwary feet.
She stands up as he comes in Once
again the heavens, as though in recogni-
ton of her beauty, open wide, and the
sun, shining through their clefts, falls
upon her. She had turned at his ap-
proach, and is now looking at him; it is
a calm, dignified look, that has no fear
in it, and no ill-bred confusion. Erect.
beautiful, expectant, she stands, her eyes
on his, her head little forward bent. a
book, half closed, lying between the fin
gers of the hand, that has now, in her
surprise, been lowered to her side.
Il beg your pardon" says Adare, great
ly taken aback at this sudden coming on
gently born girl, where he had expected
to find only a young woman of the farm
ing class. who would have set him on his
right road to Carrig Castle but the
fact is, I've lost my way, and / couldn t
see a living soul in sight to make in
quiries of, until | caught sight of you in
the window"
Yes She too smiles family, and
as her lips part he acknowledges yet more
deeply the charm. the loneliness of her
perfect face. "You," with a glance at
his fishing boots, saw me from the riy-
err"
From down there" pointing through
the bare open space where a window once
had been, 10 turn in the stream below.
| ''Of course. l cannot be sure il was you
| I saw"
'Oh, yes" She mods her head gravely
Il am the only one who ever enters this
old ruin
Il feel I've been awfully presumptu-
| Ho,- -.
ing you. But will you be 50 good as to
tell me where / ann"
You are in the townland of Bean
reagh, and this is the old MILL O'Con.
nelrs Mil, they call it. 1t belonged to
my father. Our house Is up there" Her
eyes go over his shoulder, and one slen-
| der hand points to where. as he turns
round, he can see through broken win
dow a big gaunt white house, dull and
unattractive-
''Your house. You are, then"-regard
ing her closey-"your name is-O'Con-
nell?"
Il am Amber O'Connell," returns she
gently, yet with growing amazement.
And l." quickly. IAN Hilary Adare.'
| "Adare?" She lifts her brows. The
\ SO lar as he Is cO0CeI0tu, eNlQeUl
| ly conveys nothing to her.
Surely" a little holly, you have
heard of u.s."
Il am sorry. But coloring slightly
as if ashamed of an ignorance that seem
ed to hurt him, II really have not. Oh
course, l know the name. There is ever
someone-an old man-Sir Lucien Adar,
| who / believe used to live in this par
of the world, at one time; but he has
been in England for years, and"
HE is not in England now he i.
here"
Here - All at once her face changes
| Her lip curls. Instinctively she draws
herself up, and a very passion Of anger
and defiance blazes in her dark blue eyes
AT Carrigi'' She draws her breatl
sharply. And your" demands she impe
riOusly.
Il am Sir Lucien's nephew, and
think-yOur cousin
There is a long pause, whilst two
frowning eyes gaze into two dark-browI
eyes, that are full of entreaty. Then