Catoctin clarion. [volume] (Mechanicstown, Md.) 1871-1940, 1909-01-07

tlldI oHS SuhhoS oS'F SAA> '-o--~
lamp"
Vineyard followed his guide into
the dark passage, closing the door
behind him. A moment later his
companion pushed open that OF the
tiny parlor, and stream OF light
poured out on to the plain wall and
oilcloth- covered floor.
Come, monsieur" he said, after
glancing into the lighted room, ana
as VINEYARD obeyed he mechanically
and critically noted the hideous pat.
tern of the oilcloth upon the floor.
Marie was seated near the table.
with both arms resting upon its dull
red cover. The soft lamp-light
cleaned upon her flaxen hair. ana
defined her white profile against the
dark wall beyond. She turned her
eyes wearily toward the door as tho
two men entered, but there was no
light of recognition In her face. IL
was at that moment that Winyard
was struck for the first time by the
wonder of her great beauty. He hao
never before seen her without h@
hat, and in the soft light her lovely
supple hair had a CLEAN Of gold upon
it, borrowed from the lamps rays.
Her light blue eyes looked darker by
the same reason, and from the red
tablecloth there arose pink glow
which cast over her pallid face rosy
hue of life. But it was souliesa
life, and the young Englishman
WINGED as he met those vacant, plead
ing eyes.
Meyer motioned him to stand aside
in a corner near the ikon, where the
tiny oil-lamp fickered little ruby
shafts of light across the holy pic
ture. Then he approached her, and
said:
Marie, l have brought him.
The girl took not the slightest no.
tice; indeed, she did not appear to
hear his voice, but sat gazing dream
ily at her own hands lying idly on
the table before her. And now the
patient lover went to her side and
laid his hand upon her lifeless wrist.
Marie" he whispered; speaking
Russian for the first time in Mist
leys presence. my little Marie! l
am Iyan-do you not know me?"
She slowly raised her eyes from
the contemplation CT her own hands,
and fixed them searchingly on his
lace.
'Ivan!" she said at length. in a
sweet, deep voice. "You have come
already! Are they waiting to take
me away?"
"Who, my Marie?"
"The soldiers, for have killed
him-I have killed him!" Her voice
died away to whisper.
mo, you have not killed him,
Marie. He is here!" said Meyer,
speaking slowly, as one speaks to
child.
"Who is here?"
"Winyard Mlstley. He has come
at your own request
mo, Ivan; shot him at the
stream. killed him. shall never
see him again, for he is dead. told
him to stop, but he came nearer; he
never took his eyes off mine-he
never hesitated; and as he came-as
he looked at mel thought 1t was
the other: He looked so brave and
calm; but-but the other is bigger
bigger and braver!"
When VINEYARD was excited, or at
moments when his nerves were on
tension, awaiting the time for ac-
ton, he had a peculiar habit OF draw
ing in his lips, first the lower ana
then the upper, as If they were
parched and needed moisture. This
action made his square jaw look
squarer, and by sympathey his gray
eyes grew dogged and dark beneath
the motionless lashes.
All this time he had been stand
ing in the darker corner of the littlo
room, with keen, observant eyes
upon the lovers. One brown hand
was religiously executing Mr.. Ger
ny's No. / flve-0nger exercise on the
ton of an old three -cornered oak
cupboard, and his lips were slowly
moistening each other. Perfectly
calm and collected, watchful, alert.
and keen, he waited his time. At
last he stepped forward. and with a
little sign to Meyer to let him speak,
he said;-
"No, Tademoiselle Dakovitch. J'ou
the entirely mistaken. You did not
shoot me-"
The girl looked up at him with
eyes vague at first and wondering;
but gradually the rays of reason
ing soul shone through them, and
with motion of her hand toward
her soft hair over her temple, she
spoke.
"You-here," she said, you!
Why have you como? Where is the
other? lie does not come. l want
him; not you"
She rose from her seat, and wan
dered vaguely up and down, glanclnS
at the two men from time to time
furtively, with troubled, distrustful
eyes. 1t seemed as If reason had
completely forsaken her brain, for
she murmured incoherently in q
strangely medley of languages
After q fow moments she suddenly
recovered her senses, and appeared
to recognize the two men again. IT.
was a terrible sight, and even Win
yard Mistley looked pale and bewil-
dered, while his companion watched
Marie with the dull calmness of de-
spair.
(To be continued)
Paris Nearer to Bordeaux,