St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1910-06-29

~urLuIn sui moved as II a hand mao
but recently touched it. She stared al
it incredulously. He had gone. He
would have none of her assistance
then; preferred She listened, but
caught only the rustling of the heavy
silk
She became aware of a throbbing In
her head, dull pain, and, mechanical
~ seating herself near one of the ia
bles, she put up her hand and started
to draw the pins from her hair. but
soon desisted. Again she began to
think, more clearly this time, more
poignantly, of all she had experienced.
listened to, that night.
She, a Wray, sprung from long line
Of proud, illustrious folk! And he?
The breath of the roses outside was
waited upward. Her eyes, deep. self
scofhng. rested without seeing on a
small dark object on a handkerchief
on the table. What was it to her If
they took him-what, indeed? Her fin
gers played with the object, closed
hard Oh it. Why should she care If
he paid the penalty-he, self con-
fessed-
Something fell from the velvet Gov
ering in her hand. She was vaguely
aware of it cleaning there on the cold
white marble, small disk-a gold
coin. Then slowly she took it as If
asking herself how it came there on
her handkerchief, which, she dimly
remembered. had been lying on the
floor. Some one, of course, must have
picked up the handkerchief, but no one
had been in the room since she had no
dced it except
More closely she scrutinized it, the
shining disk on her rosy palm. A King
George gold piece! Above the mon
arch's face and head with it's flowing
locks appeared tiny hole, as if some
oneehad once worn 1t. Beneath, just
discernible, was the date; 1862. She
continued to regard it, then looked
again at the bit Of velvet near by. 1t
had been wrapped in that carefully
for what reason. Like something
more than what it seemed-a mere
gold piece.
"1762" Why, even as she gazed at
the cloth. felt it, did the figures seem
to reiterate themselves in her brain
"1762" There could be nothing espe-
cially significant about the date. Yet
even as she concluded thus by some
retrospective process she saw herself
bending over, studying those figures
on another occasion. Herself, and
yet
She was looking straight before her
now. Suddenly she started and
sprang up. "a King George gold
piecer Her hair, unbound, fell around
her, below her waist. Her eyes, like
sapphires, gazed out from veritable
simmer of gold. Date She paus-
ed. "Why, this belonged to me once
as a child, and ~
The blue eyes seemed searching
searching. Abruptly she found what
she sought 81 gave it to the convict
on the Lord Nelson" She almost
whispered the words. '"The brave,
brave fellow who sacrificed his life
for mine" Her warm fingers closed
softly on the coin. She seemed wrap
ped in the picture thus recalled.
"Then how Her brows knitted
she swept the shining hair from her
face. 41f he were drowned, how could
it have been left here BY Her eyes
were dark now with excitement.
Him? Him?" she repeated. "Un-
less,'' her breast suddenly heaved, che
was not drowned, after all. He''-
A sudden shot from the park rang
out. The coin fell from the girls hand
Other shots followed. She ran out
upon the balcony, a stif1ed cry On her
lips. She stared off, but only the
darkness met her gaze.
Not far from one Of the entrances to
Regents park or the hum Of Camden
Towns main artery Of traffic lay lit
tie winding street, which because Of
its curving lines had long been known
as Spiral row. Into this byway there
turned late in the night of the second
day after that memorable evening at
Strathorn House a man who, looking
quickly around him, paused before the
closed gate Of one Of the dwellings.
After a moments hesitation the man
pulled the bell, waited for some time,
but no response came. When from the
end Of the street he heard a vehicle
coming rapidly toward him he more
firmly jerked at the handle of the bell.
This time his efforts were successful
A glimmer as from candle appeared
at the front door, and a few minutes
later a dark form came slowly down
the graveled walk.
Good evening, Dennis" said the
caller The faint CLEAN Of the candle
revealed the drowsy and Enthusiastically
Celtic face of him he addressed, a man
past middle age. who regarded the