Carolina watchman. [volume] (Salisbury, N.C.) 1871-1937, 1932-06-10
NAN MADFMTOWN
46 64RuBYM ARES Z,:I1I

when the world had seemed to be fillee
with a million demons, all of whom
were conspiring together to torment
her.
Annals sleeping draught had beer
useless: it had only excited her anc
racked her nerves.
Perhaps if she took some more -.
She looked round the room eagerly;
yes, the bottle was there on the dress.
ing table.
Diana crossed the ROOM. She wa.
a childish figure in her white night
gown with her bare feet and disorder
ed curly hair.
Her hands shook a little, making
the bottle rattle against the glass a.
she measured out some of the drops.
1t had a nasty bitter taste.
That's because l haven't put any
water with it," Diana thought vague
ly. Il don't care; perhaps it will real
ly make me sleep this time"
She shivered and made a little grim
ace as she crept back to bed. Why
were all the things that were supposed
to be good for one SO nasty?
CHAPTER XXI
Jonas was putting the pony and
trap away in the stable when Mr..
Shurey came down the yard, a giant
figure looming out of the gray mist.
Don't ZEE put her away yet," he
said. There's some things for Rath-
bone'."
Jonas turned round.
It'll be difficult to get so far in
this fog" he said rather sullenly.
The farmer frowned.
when I was your age I didn't ar
que about things being difficult" he
said bluntly. Il did 'em. If you go
up to the house the missus'll give you
what's to co."
Jonas shrugged his shoulders and
obeyed, He did not really object to
the fog, but he was in no mood to go.
There was a dark spot in his mind
whenever he thought of Donald Rath-
bone.
He felt as if, during the past weeks
since he first met her, she had un-
consciously been giving him broken
pieces of a puzzle, which had slowly
and carefully formed themselves into
one, until this morning, he suddenly
realized that it was complete. And it
was Rathbone's face that he saw in
the finished picture.
The love Jonas felt for Diana was
the kind of love which Dante had felt
for Beatrice. He had been content
to love on his poets dreams of her,
asking nothing more for himself than
that he might be allowed to continue
to dream.
But that she should be unhappy was
more than he could endure.
1t was nearly midday before Jonas
reached Rathbone's. The big gates
were wide open-a most unusual thing
in his experience, and as he neared the
house he saw hat the front door was
wide open also, regardless Of the damp
fog that swirled in.
He drove round to the side door
and got down.
Nobody answered his repeated
knock, and presently he turned the
handle and looked into the kitchen.
Nobody about. He set his basket of
eggs and butter down on the table and
had turned to go when Hobson, the
chauffeur, suddenly appeared.
Jonas looked at him.
"Where's everybody" he asked. He
indicated the basket. "I've just brought
that. Isn't there anybody about?"
"We've got something else to do
besides hang round waiting for you to
CALL" Hobson said tartly. He half
turned to go, then came back.
(which way did you Gomez he
asked, lowering his voice.
Through the village"
"Oh-well-you didn't see anything
of our Miss Resale, I suppose?"
miss Resale? No. Why?
"why?" Hobson echoed with the
impotence of anxiety. "Why, because
| she's out somewhere, of course. Beer
out since nine o'clock this morning
as far as we can make out. MOI very
nice for a young lady to 60 wandering
off on her own a morning like this
is it,"
"Alone?" Jonas said.
"You mean-she's lost?" iona
asked.
mo, I don't mean nothing of thu
sort" Hobson retorted angrlly. NYo1
can't get lost round about here: IT.
just the fog that makes it difficult tt
find her. IF YOU see ANYTHING OF he.