The Mitchell capital. (Mitchell, Dakota [S.D.]) 1879-1918, 1908-10-02
Storyof Francis 1udde
Romance Of Queen Mary's Reign.
BY STANLEY J. EYMAN
BY STANLEY J. wEYMAN.

cecil, ne lnuttered- Then lie ran his
eye down the brief contents. while all
save myself pricked their ears aud
pressed closer, and l looked swiftly
from face to face az the wavering light
lit up now II and nov anotl!er-old
familiar faces Tor the most part.
We'll, Sir Philip, will you stop to
supper?" 1 cried. with IL laugh, when
he had had time, as 1 judged, to reach
the signature.
Go TOT" he grunted. looking at me.
Nice fools you have made of us. young
mani" He passed the letter to Gre
vile. Sir Anthony he continued, n
mixture of pleasure and chagrin in his
voice, you are free! L congratulate
you on your luck. Your nephew has
brought an amnesty for all things done
up TO the present time saw for any
J life taken, i'm which case the matter is
to be referred to the secretary. Fortu-
nately my dead horse is the worst of
the mischief so free you are and UNI
nestled. though nicely Master Cecil
has befcoled us!"
We will give you another horse, Sir
Philip" ! answered.
But the words were wasted on the
air. They We're drowned in a great
shout of joy and triumph which rang
from a score of Gludde throats the mo-
ment h purport of the paper was UNI
derstood-a shout which made the old
house shake again and scared the
dogs so that they fed away into corn
ers and gazcd aslSance at us, their tails
between their legs, Il shout that was
dozen homesteads where ClUdde men
lay gloomy In their beds.
BY this time my uncle's han was in
mine. With his other he took off his
J hat. Lads" he cried huskily, rearing
his tall form in our midst. "a cheer
for the queen! God keep her safe, and
long may she reign!"
This was universally regarded as the
end of what they still proudly call in
those parts "the Cotton Instructions"
even the oldest and wisest, had bayed
himself hoarse and fled to kennel.
thinking the end of the world was
come. My heart, as I joined %roundly
in, swelled high with pride. and there
were tears in my eyes as we'll as in
my uncle'S. But there is 10 triumph,
after all, without it's drawback, no
fruition equal to the anticipation.
Where was P~etronilla? I could see her
nowhere. I looked from window to
window. but she was at none. I
scanned the knot of maids, but could
not find her. Even the cheering had
not brought her out.
1t was wonderful. though. how the
Thomas Graville regained good humor
and deigned to shake me by the hand
and express himself pleased that the
matter had ended SO happily. Then the
sheriff drew him and Bridgewater
away to look to their mems arrange
ments, seeing. I think. that my uncle
and I would fain be alone awhile, ana
at last I asked with a. trembling voice
after Petronilla.
To be sure" Sir Anthony answered,
gotten her. dear lad. / wish now that
she had staid. But tell me, Francis,
how came you Jack tonight, and how
Gid you manage this?"
Something of what he asked I told
him h%urriedly. but then-be sure I
took advantage of the first opening-I
! asked again after Petronilla. "Where
has h gone. sir?" 1 said, trying to
conceal my Impotence. :" thought
that Martin told me she was here
rived.'
Il I'M not sure, do you know" Sir An
tony answered, eying me absently.
that I was wise. but I considered she
was safer away. Francis. And she can
be fetched back in the morning. 1
feared there might be some disturb
ance in the house, as indeed there we'll
might have been, and though she beg
ged very hard to stay with me I sent
her off,"
This evening. STRIP" I stammered,
suddenly chilled.
Yes; an hour ago.
But an hour ago. every approach
was guarded: Sir Anthony I cried in
surprise. Il had the greatest difficulty
in slipping through from the outside
myself. we'll as I Know every field and
tree. To escape from within. even for
a man. much less q woman, would
have been impossible. She will have to
be stopped"
II think not" he said, with a smile
at once sage and indulgent, which
seemed to add, 'You think yourself a
clever lad. but o do not know every
thing yet"
II sent her out by the secret passage
to the mill house, you see," he X
plained, "as soon as I heard the sher-
ifs party outside. I could have given
them the slip myself a I pleased"
The mill house," l answered. The
njll house stood nearly a quarter Of a
mile from Cotton End, beyond the gar
dens and in the direction OF the village.
I remembered vaguely that l had heard
from the servants In the old days some
talk of q secret outlet leading from
the house to 1t, but they knew no par
ticulars, and it's existence was only
darkly rumored among them.
You did not know Of the passage"
Sir Anthonw said. chuckling at my as
constituent.
mo; I remember. but the girl die
her. He quite agreed in the wisdom
of sending her away. and indeed adj
viscd 1t. On reaching the mill. IL they
found all quiet. they were to walk
across TO Watney'S farm. There they
could get horses and might ride at
their leisure to Stratford and wait the
event. I thought 1t best for her. and
Ferdinand agreed"
"And my father-went with her?"
muttered hoa. sely. feeling myself
growing chill to the heart. Hardly
could l restrain my indignation at Sir
Anthony's folly orfmy own anger and
disappointment-and fear. for though
my head seemed on fire. and there was
II tumult in my brain. was cool
enough to trace clearly my fathers
motives inc discern with what a de-
liberate purpose he had acted. "He
went With her?"
Yes: he and his wife," the knight
answered, noticing nothing in his OBJ
t%useness.
4 You nave been fooled. sir" said
bitterly. My father you should have
known, and, for his wife, she is a bad
INSCRIPTIONS woman! oh. the mad
ness Of it, to put my cousin into their
hands!"
J. what do you mean?" the knlgh,
father is a changed man. lad. He has
!, come back to the old faith, and in q
dark hour too. He"
"Ho &c n bypocrite N.Y., q 1,;l1,g,tV