The Irish standard., 1908-11-07
CHAPTER XIII.
Fiioht.


CHAPTER XIII.
Flight.
In the alcove the girl waited, torn
In the throes of incipient hysteria at
first too weak from reaction and re.
vulsion of feeling to do anything other
than lean heavily against the wall and
fight with all her strength and will
against this crawling, shuddering,
creeping horror of nerves, that threat
ened alike her self-control, her con-
sciousness, and her reason.
But insensibly the tremor wore It,
self away, leaving her weary and worn
but mistress of her thoughts and ac-
tions. And she dropped with gratitude
into chair, bending an ear attentive
to the war of words being waged in
the room beyond the portieres.
At first, however, size failed to grasp
the import Of the alteration. And
when in time she understood it's trend,
It was with incredulity, resentment,
and a dawning dread lest worse
thing might yet befall her, worse by
far than aught that had gone before.
But to be deprived of his protection,
to feel herself forcibly restrained from
tho shelter of his generous care!
A moment gone she had been so
sure that all would now be we'll with
her, once Maitland succeeded in rid.
ding himself of the police. He would
shut the door and-and then she would
come forth and tell him, tell him
everything, and, Withholding naught
that damned her in her own esteem.
throw herself upon his mercy, bruised
with penitence but serene in the as
surance that he would prove kind.
She had such faith in his tender
and gentle kindness now. She
had OWNED SO clearly the motive that
had permitted Anisty's escape in or.
der that she might be saved, not alone
from Anisty, not alone from the shame
Of Imprisonment, but from herself as
well-from herself as Maitland knew
her. The burglar out of the way, by
ruse, evasion, or subterfuge she would
be secreted from the prying of the po-
lice, smuggled out of the house and
taken to place of safety, given a
her hands Of the mire of theft, to be-
come worthy of the womanhood that
was hers.
But now-she thrust finger-nails
cruelty into her soft palms, striving
to contain herself and keep her tongue
from crying aloud to those three
brutal, blind men the truth; that she
was guilty of the robbery, she with
Anisty; that Maitland was-Maitland;
word synonymous with man Of
honor"
In the beginning, indeed, all that re-.
strained her from doing so was her
knowledge that Maitland would be
more panied by her sacrifice than glad
dened or relieved. He was so sure of
clearing himself. It was in.
conceivable to her that there could be
men SO stupid and crassly unobserv.
ant as to be able to confuse the iden.
tity Of the two men for single in
stant. What though they did resemble
each other in form and feature? The
likeness went no deeper; below the
surface, and rising through 1t with
every word and look and gesture, lay
worldwide gulf Of difference in
every shade Of thought, feeling, and
instinct.
She herself could never again be de.
ceived-no, never! Not for second
could she, mistake the one for the
other. What were they saying?
The turmoil of her indignation sub.
sided as she listened, breathlessly, to
Maitland's story Of his adventures;
and the joy that leaped in her for his
frank mendacity in suppressing every
incident that involved her, was all but
overpowering. She could have wept
for sheer happiness; and at a later
time she would; but not now, when
everything depended on her maintain.
ing the very silence of death.
How dared they doubt him? The
fnsolents! The crude british insol-
ence of them! Her anger ragged high
again and as swiftly was
quenched, extinguished in a twinkling
by terror born of her excitement and
bare suggestion thrown out by
Hickey.
explainin' how a crook like
Anisty made three tries In one day
to steal some jewels and didn't get
'em. Where we're they, all this timer
Maitland's cool retort was lost upon
her. What matter? II they disbe
ueved him. persisted IA calling him