Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1909-06-25

her completely in the hands Of her
guardian, Rivers.
you must go to her by-and-by, Ha-
EEL" he said, with his adoring eyes on
the fair face of his wife. "She has had
narrow escape from an awful fate,
and we must forgive all her blunders
and follies."
"Yes, yes" assented Hazel. "Oh,
poor Sergiai" and tears Of pity and
sympathy welled up in her big eyes.
whittier has Rivers fled, wonder"
said Gwen Talcott. Mark my words
he will manage to outwit his enemies.
He is very clever-wicked people usu-
ally are. Go on to Heroncroft, Fran
els, and Hazel and will follow you"
Heron went back to his dog-cart,
and drove away in the direction OF
home. The fat pony trotted after, but
at a slower pace, and the dog-cart was
soon out Of sight. Both girls. aghast
at the news which Heron had brought,
talked in hushed voices. AS they near
ed Wolfsden, Hazel said:
Put me down at the gate, and will
go home through the garden-it Is
really the nearer way"
Are you not afraid?" answered
Gwen. "You may see Joe Bagley's
ghost in the shrubbery, revisiting the
glimpses of the moon"
HE can never be as dangerous In
the spirit as he was In the fiesh," said
Hazel; and she sprang out Of the phae-
ton, and nodding good-by to her friend,
pushed back the heavy gate, and went
I'D the chestnut walk, toward the
closed house.
Rusty burs lay thick under her feet,
the brown nuts were breaking from
their mailed shells. Long red shadows
of sunset rested upon everything. The
place was very lonely, and crowded
with memories Of Jael, the heroine, the
martyr. In the hearts Of Hazel and her
blind brother the name Of the girl was
now enshrined, sacred, imperishable.
Till the end of life they would hold her
in grateful and tender remembrance.
AS she was about to turn into the
shrubbery, Hazel stopped, and looked
up at the old mansion.
To her surprise she discovered that
a shutter Of Colonel Rivers library was
open, the window lifted, and the cur
tain thrust aside. Had any person VEN
tured to enter the house? She remem-
bered the strange, ghostly cry which
she had heard on her last visit to the
spot. Without a moments hesitation,
Hazel mounted the terrace, and looked
into the room.
In the gathering twilight she could
discern nothing but the outlines Of
bookshelves, cabinets, and other famil-
lar appointments. Yet she felt that
more was there-somethiug which liv-
ed and breathed With sudden daring,
she raised the sash still higher, and
sprang into the library.
In the darkest corner Of the room a
sofa stood. One glance sufficed to show
Hazel that a human figure was stretch
ed upon it-inert, breathing heavily,
like one overcome with bodily fatigue.
Softly Hazel approached the sleeper.
The straw bonnet and veil had been
tossed aside, but she instantly recog-
nized the faded shawl, the cotton
gown, torn and disordered,. as II in
hurried flight through bush and bram-
BILE, and the coarse shoes, whitened
with the dust Of travel. 1t was the wo-
man whom she had seen an hour be-
fore scurrying across the preaching
field by the river. Hazel bent, and
closely scanned the unconscious face.
A woman? Great Heaven. No! The
brown Vandyke beard had disappeared
cheek and chin were smoothly shaw
en-, but neither this change, nor the
femme disguise, could conceal the
truth from her. The wolf had return
ed to his den! Pitt Rivers lay before
her-a hunted fugitive, come back to
the refuge of his former home.
In mingled terror and fascination,
Hazel stood, staring down at the sleep
er. Why had he been her enemy
why connived with Mrs. Steele to de-
stroy her? What motive lay at the
bottom Of his carefully concealed en-
nifty? Muttering in his dreams, the
disguised man moved his head sudden
ly, restlessly to one side. Then, for the
first time Heron's wife saw a big red
spot upon the lower jaw-an ugly
crimson birthmark, which the full
beard had before hidden. Like the
brand of Cain, it caught and held her
gaze. Where had she seen that evil
mark before?-where? At last, she
remembered! An irrepressible cry es-
capped her lips. The sound awoke the
sleeper. He leaped to his feet
you are George Langstroth!" she
cried, "the man who killed my moth
er, long years ago, at Lake Cottage!"
There they stood face to face, in that
lonely twilight room-Constance Fer
rers' daughter, and Constance Ferrers'
murderer! On the face Of the latter
Rivers, the gentleman, was gone with
the Vandyke beard and broadcloth
coat; and George Langstroth, thief and
assassin, glared at Hazel, with his true
nature revealed in his wicked, menac-
ing eyes.
You have a good memory, Mrs. Her
on" he .sneered; but were you not a
little unwise to follow me here? You
and l are alone in a deserted house.
If you cry for help, there is no one to
hear you"
| He caught her in a mighty grasp.
The cold muzzle Of pistol pressed her
temple.
What is to hinder me from sending
you to join your mother?" he hissed.
ITO your presence at Wolfsden 1 owe
all my misfortunes. Cursed be the
day when you were brought under its
roof"
| She did not fiinched or Shrek, but,
quick as lightning. pushed up his arm,
and the bullet whistled over her head,
and lodged in the wall of the library.
At the same instant an approaching