Jasper County Democrat, Volume 3, Number 17, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 4 August 1900 — 'Twixt Life and Death [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

'Twixt Life and Death

BY FRHNK BRRRETT

CHAPTER ll.—(Continued.) “You did seem rather worried, dear.” "Oh, I was. To begin with, I didn’t like the part I had to play, as you know. As Mrs. V’ic had written it out it was simply ridiculous. Now when the dresser told me how she had seen it played, I •aw what a capital part it might be made; and when I thought of this letter, I resolved to play it. So I went to the station for a copy of Goldsmith, and studied it with the dresser, who promised to make me up exactly like the actor she had seen. If I am expelled from one school,- it's pretty certain that another won’t take me when they hoar what they are exposing themselves to!”, “But isn’t it rather dreadful tp be expelled, Nessa?” “I shall not be expelled, I shall resign,’’ said Nessa, loftily. “I have not studied the political history of the British constitution for nothing,” she added, with a flash of humor in her eyes. “When are you going to resign, dear?” “The very first thing to-morrow morning. I made Tinkleton promise she would say nothing about the performance to Mrs. Vic to-night in order that I myself might tell her in the morning. You may be sure she was glad to get out of it. There’s another reason why I prefer to resign. If I were expelled. Mrs, Vie would get nothing out of Mr. Redmond; but if I resign, he must send her the payment for a term, and that will help to compensate the poor old soul for the injury I have done the school." “And where shall you go when you ' leave here?” “To Grahame Towers, of course.” “But aren’t you afraid, Nessa?" “Afraid of what—that coward? Not I. If I were a man I’d be a soldier like my I father. There’s nothing I should like | bettor than a good fight with that villain, ! Redmond.” “But are you sure he’s a coward, | dear?" asked one of the girls naively. “I am certain that he is. I am anxious ; for to-morrow to come: but, oh!” she i added, with a sudden drop in her voice I as the tears sprang into her eyes, "I shall ! never have The heart to say good-by to you, dears.” There were hugging and kissing all around, and then Nessa, bursting away, said, “Come, let us get it over now. There, take these, Dolly; and now, little witch, you’re next. Choose what you would like.” But the “little witah,” sitting on the bed with her face buried in her hands, shook her head and whimpered. She was a strangely small girl for her age, with long, thin fingers, a dark complexion and black hair, long and sleek as an Indian’s. Her ways W'ere odd and seclusive. Sometimes the girls found her seated in the dark, huddled up with her chin resting on her knees, and her weird, vacant eyes half closed, as if her spirit was wandering in some other world. She could interpret dreams, ami make sense out of the greatest rubbish. She was an authority on all that concerned signs and tokens and palmistry, nnd had worn a smuggled pack of cards limp in telling the girls’ fortunes. Her title was not unmerited. The girls gathered about her prepared for some new sensation in the romance of* this night. Nessa alone seemed to be unawed. “What’s the matter, yon little goose? Is there anything dreadful in giving presents?” “Don’t, don’t!” pleaded the little witch, without removing her hands. “It’s like Naomi, my sister. When she was going to die she made us take things." “But I am not going to die. Look at me—do I look like it?” “You don’t know all,” said the girl, shivering, and whispering so low that her words were scarcely audible. “Not all that 1 know. I would not tell yon while it might do you harm to know, but I must now that it may save you. Oh, you must not go!” She raised herself suddenly and threw her arms about Nessa’s neck; “you, so beautiful and kind,” she added, nettling herself in Nessa’s ready embrace. “Why, dear, why?” whispered Nessa, coaxingly. "You are in danger. Your life is not safe. There is going to be a great change, and there is peril in your path. I have seen it whenever I have looked—in the cards, in your ham). Your line of life is broken in the nineteenth year.” Nessa was the only one of all the little group who was not terrified into silence by the little witch's prophecy. "Oh, come, this is too bad, after promising me last week that I should have riches and long life,” she murmured, playfully, as she smoothed her cheeks upon the girl’s sleek hair. “Two things can’t be true, yon know; and of the two I would prefer to believe your first promise. " “They arc both true,” said the girl, with feverish eagerness; “you will be happy if you live; but there are three years of terrible danger before you. It was that I dared not tell you. Oh, do, do stay with us till the peril Is past." Nessa herself stood now in silence, subdued with grave perplexity by the earnestness of her little friend. But suddenly a ray of intelligence gleamed in her face, and unclasping the girl's clinging arms from her neck, she put her away, holding her at arm's length. “You little trickster!" she exclaimed, with mock disdain; “I have found you out. I see through your conjuring. You have been thinking about that clause in the codicil that puts Mr. Redmond in possession of my fortune if I die before twenty-one, and it struck you that he might murder me for my money if he got me under his band in Grahame Towers. I forgive you, dear,” she added, taking the child back to her bosom, and kissing her, “for your sweet love of me; but, oft. you are awfully mistaken If yon think that fear would keep me from getting into difficulties.” CHAPTER in. It was about five o’clock when Nessa reached her destination.

“Is It far to Grahame Towers?” she asked the porter. “A matter of four or five miles before you got to the park, and then there’s the best part of a mile to the house. Take a fly. Miss?” “Yes; fetch my luggage, please. There are two tin boxes with my name on them —Grahame.” She changed her last half-sovereign at the refreshment bar, where she had a cup of tea, gave the porter a shilling, and looking in the portemonnaie at her slender resources as the fly started on its journey, she said to herself, “If I find no one there whatever shall I do?” She had taken irrevocable steps; but her courage had been sorely ivied by the °f those she was leaving behind forever. Even Mrs. Vic, at the last moment, had broken down, and forgiving her, with tears in her eyes, begged her to stay on. As for Tinkleton and the girls, the way they took on at parting was quite dreadful to remember. In addition to these memories, reaction after the excitement of last night made the girl’s heart very heavy indeed. Iler spirits revived when the driver, turning round, pointed with his whip to a massive building rising boldly out of the dark green oaks on a distant hill, and told her it was Grahame Towers, It was something to feel that a place of such imposing grandeur was hers. The pride of her heart was stirred again when she caught sight of the magnificent avenue guarded by rampant panthers flanking the great gates at the entrance. It was noble!—and, thank goodness, the gates were open. Half way up the great drive they met a wagon loaded with the trunk of an enormous oak. “Cutting my timber!” exclaimed Nessa, with indignation. A little further on the driver pulled up. A gentleman in shooting costume stood with a gun under his arm directly in the way. It was clear to see by his commanding presence that he was master there. As the fly stopped he came to the side, and, seeing a lady, raised his hat. It was three years since they met, and for the moment he failed to recognize Nessa. Three make a great difference in the appearance of a girl at that time of life; they make little or none in a man of middle age. Nessa knew him at once, though his black whiskers, which were formerly trimmed to a point, were now shaved to the fashionable military cut —she knew him by those long, sleepy eyes, and that odious smile. She bowed with severe formality. In that moment he perceived that the haughty young lady before him was the disagreeable child he bad seen last in a short dress. “Nessa!” he exclaimed, the amiability going suddenly from his face, “why on earth have you come here?” "Because it is my home, and I intend to stay here for the present.” “You will do nothing of the kind. I told you that it was my wish you should stay in the school where I placed yo\i.” "As you see, I have not stayed there.” “Then you will be good enough to return at once.” “Quite out of the question; I have rendered that impossible.” “How?” “This is hardly a suitable place for discussing our affairs, Mr. Redmond.” “Discussing our affairs, indeed! The discussion begins and ends here. Turn around,” he added, addressing the driver, imperatively. The driver turned about with a grin on his broad face, and said: "Where am I t<? take you now, miss?” “To the nearest magistrate.” "Why. that's Sir Thomas Bullen at the Chase." "Then drive to-the Chase.” The blow stunned Redmond. He had reason to dread inquiry. He could say nothing. His narrow, unsteady eyes betrayed the fear and the venomous hatred in his heart. "Who-oah!” cried the driver, reining in his horse, as n light phaeton came sharply round the bend in the drive. “Confusion!” muttered Redmond, furiously, as he caught sight of the phaeton and the Indy who drove in it; the next moment, with abject entreaty in his face, he turned to Nessa and said hurriedly, in a low tone: "For heaven’s sake, go away! There’s a hotel in Lullingford. I'll meet you there this evening, and agree to anything you like to propose.” Nessa was the last person in tho world to be moved by n bribe, and the bare idea of quitting the park as if she had no right to be there was sufficient incentive to stay there. Added to this, the lady in the phaeton so managed her spirited cob as to make it doubtful which side of the road she intended to keep. She wished to know something more about this fly and the horse and the young lady, who even at a distance was strikingly pretty in her close-fitting jacket and neat hat. As she at length pulled up, almost within a hand's reach of Nessa, she bowed, and looked to Redmond for an explanation. There was no help for it. Redmond, with a sufficiently bad grace, introduced the two ladies. "Miss Grahame, my—ch—stepdaughter, Mrs. Redmond, my wife.” Mrs. Redmond smiled very sweetly, and bowed again. She was a very showy woman, tall and comely, with a heavy plait of shining yellow hair; dark eyebrows and lashes; and the most lovely pink-and-white complexion. At' a distance Nessa thought she could not be more than five or six-and-twenty, but, on closer examination, she suspected herself in error A little crease In the eyelid, a little pleat under the eye, a certain harness and thinness in the mobile nostrils, and a pucker in her throat when she turned her head, made Nessa believe that she might be live or six-and-thirty. or even more. On tha whole, Nessa fait disposed to like Mrs. Rsdmond—she looked amiable and simple, despite tha touch of bistre under her eyes, which surely could not be natural.

But while Nessa had been coming to this conclusion the woman had arrived at a far more definite estimation of her character, and decided, among other things, that she was a young person whom it wonld be far easier to lead than to drive. . , With the sweetest expression still upon her face, Mrs. Redmond turned from Nessa to her husband, with the slightest interrogative lifting of her prettily arched eyebrows. “Miss Grahame enme here to pay us a visit,” he explained, with ill-concealed embarrassment; “but I have persuaded her to return to the hotel at Lullingford, where she will be much more at her ease. We have no accommodation in this wretched old ruin, you know.” “Oh, we are not so badly off as that, dear. We can certainly find a room, and if Miss Grahame will accept the best we have to offer——” "Well, settle it as you please,” interrupted Redmond. “I’m off for an hour’s shooting,” and, raising his hat, he turned his back and hurried off —saving himself, as wag his habit, from the present difficulty, and leaving the worst for the future. "Shall we walk to she house, dear? Then we can talk as we go along,” said Mrs. Redmond. Nessa accepted readily. Mrs." Redmond handed the reins to the old man in livery who occupied the seat beside her, and, stepping to the ground, shook Nessa heartily by the band. “You will bring the luggage up to the house,” she said to the flyman. "Do you know, dear," said Mrs. Redmond, taking Nessa’s arm as they walked toward the house, “this is the first time I ever heard your name! Men are so reserved about business matters, and I suppose you have some business relations with him?” “Oh, yes; he is my guardian. I came here to have an understanding with him about my position.” "Your guardian! How odd he should never have told me anything about it. I feel quite hurt, dear; it looks almost like a . want .of confidence. I knew, of course, that Mr. Redmond was a widower when I married him, but he never told me that Mrs. Grahame had left any children. Per.haps he thought I should want to have you with me—as I certainly should, having no children of my own. But you are not a child now. Have you any brothers or sisters?” “No, I don’t know that I have any relations at all; I have never seen, never heard of any,” said Nessa; and she gave a brief outline of her life at school, warming up as she went on under the stimulating sympathy of her companion, an<J telling finally the manner of her leaving Eagle House. Mrs. Redmond was immensely tickled with her account of the performance, which Nessa gave with considerable humor, being of an impulsive and expansive nature. “You can't tell how glad I am that you have come here, dear,” said Mrs. Redmond; “and I’m sure that, with the money it would cost to keep you at school you can provide amply for your wants. Of course, your mamma left a proper provision for you?” “Oh, yes; I have a copy of her will in my box. I was to have eight hundred a year during my minority.” “Eight hundred a year! That’s quite a great deal. Eight hundred a year!” she repeated, reflectively. “But surely, dear, you will soon be of age; you look quite a woman.” "I shall not be of age for three years.” “Only eighteen! And, of course, when you are twenty-one you will have more even than you have now.” “Oh, 1 shall have everything. This es-tate-all is left to me.” Mrs. Redmond stopped with an exclamation that had something of dismay in it; but, quickly recovering her self-pos-session, she drew Nessa’s arm closer to her side, and said: “You must' forgive tne, dear. This is such a surprise, and I feel so wounded to think that my husband should not have told me something about his position. f dare say he has his own independent fortune; but beyond that he has nothing whatever to come—to come from this estate?” “Nothing that he can legally claim; but, of course,” said Nessa. her generous disposition overcoming her late hostility —“of course I should never-never— —” She hesitated, at a loss to find a phrase that might assure her new friend of a kindly intention without wounding her feelings. “I know what you would say,” said Mrs. Redmond; “that if my husband should happen to be in difficulties, and we found ourselves without a penny in the world at the end of three years, you would give us a home and—and food——” She stopped, choked with disappointment, indignation, envy and malice; but in the next moment masked her feelings under a Judas’ kiss, as she murmured: “Oh, you dear, dear, generous, kind-hearted friend.” (To be continued.)