Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1908-09-08

pared her guest for bed. With hel
arm around the unhappy girl. Miss
Fassel knelt at her devotions. All the
while Mignon remained as cold and
impassive as stone.
Shall seen him again-shall l evel
see him again." she said, as Edith
arose from her prayers. Alas! Mig
mons thoughts were fixed, not on q
heavenly, but an earthly and most un-
fortunate love.
NO" answered Edith, sadly; he is
going far away"
YES, to the ends Of the earth,
murmured Mignon; ''he will never
come back! Oh, 1 understand every
thing. Who sows the wind must reap
the whirlwind. 1 am very tired
Queenie; let me sleep"
She crept into bed, and, like a weary
child nestled down by Edith Fassel
Not another word was spoken by eth
er.
Behind a painted screen a night
lamp burned. Outside, the storm had
ceased but a dolorous wind still rush
ed, like frightened feet, through the
long avenues of Windmere. Edith
waited till the calm, regular breathing
of her companion told her that Mignon
had forgotten sorrow for awhile in
blessed sleep. Then deeply relieved,
she closed her own wearied eyes, and
fell into dreamlesS slumber
For an hour or more she remained
unconscious. The hall clock was strik-
ing one, when suddenly, as though an
unseen hand had been laid upon her,
Edith Fassel awoke.
With a confused sense of something
wrong, she started up in bed.
Mignon was gone!
The door of the chamber was ajar.
With her heart in her throat, Edith
snatched at the first garment within
reach, thrust her feet into slippers, and
seizing the night lamp, ran into the
corridor. Here a current of cold air
met and chilled her to the marrow.
Glancing down the staircase, she dis
Windmere was standing wide open.
Full Of nameless fears, she descended
to the hall, and flew out upon the ter
race, and into the path leading to the
little lake.
"Mignon!" she called. Where are
you, Mignon?"
A wan moon, in it's last quarter,
shone through broken clouds, and
lighted the way before Edith Fassel.
"Mignon! Mignon!" she continued
to call; but no voice answered.
She reached the lake. A recent
thaw had freed its gray waters, and
dering the brink, like band Of steel.
On the garden side, the copper beech
stood stripped and bare, the swans
were now gone-wintry silence and
desolation reigned over the spot.
An awful cry broke from Edith Fas-
sel-a cry loud enough to reach to the
servants at Windmere-for, several
yards distant, on that tossing surface
she suddenly espied a white face rise,
like a star-a slender girlish hand
flung convulsively upward, and then
both vanished from her sight.
The lake, though small, was very
deep. Edith Fassel plunged straight
way into it's ice-cold depth. She was
a superb swimmer, and a few rapid
strokes brought her to the spot where
she had seen the face. She dived and
grasping Mignons limp and lifeless
body drew it upward into the light of
the waning moon.
She bore her burden to the shore.
With a superhuman strength she car
ried it down the path under the trees.
Near the entrance to Windmere, she
met the frightened servants hurrying
to find her.
Take the best horse in the stables"
commanded Edith Fassel, "and ride for
DR.. Hume. Miss Hillyer has been
walking in her sleep. She found the
lake tonight by accident, and turned
that way a second time. Make haste
or she will die of this mishap"
Some one caught Mignon from the
arms of her rescuer.
"Merciful Heavens! Miss Fassel,"
cried one Of the maids, as she threw
wrap around her mistress, what a
plight you are in yourself! To plunge
into the water in ones night clothes,
ar the dead of winter, is nothing bet
ter than suicide.
They carried MignOn to the house.
Every known means was employed to
restore her before DR.. Hume should ar
rive. In vain. She lay like a Parian
image, a smile on her lips, but without
breath or motion.
BY and by the welcome thud of horse
hoofs sounded in the drive Nigel Hume
entered--went up to Edith Fassel, as
the latter, with no thought Of her own
needs. knelt by Mignon. Her wet hair
was streaming in dark disorder upon
her shoulders, her face seemed cut
from stone. Mechanically she went on
chafing the small, cold hands of the
voiceless. motionless girl.
Help herr" she said, looking up at
Hume in miserable entreaty
He bent for a moment over Lepel
Ellicott's wife; then, very gravely drew
the hands from Edith's tremulous hold.
Nothing can be DONE" ne answer
ed, for she is dead"
To be Continued.
EIEPHE HANINES