Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 22, Number 9, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 22 August 1891 — Page 3

V-t-

By Mm OLIPHAKT,

qL:* CHAPTER V. J"" THE PLOT THICKEKS.

When Harold Carrington went to his room the night following the excursion p?v to Trerarm.: bay he suddenly rememtered tliat adith Penale had given him •two letters, which he had thrust into his pocket in his haste to follow the pony cart, and which were still lying there' unread.

He had not hastened to open them, for he had recognized the handwriting on one envelope only too well, and the Other in its flimsy blue envelope appeared only a bill or a circular, the portmark being Penzance, from whence he sometimes had things sent out to Trew&rrock*

With a slight frown of weariness he tore open the thick, cream colored envelope of th« first letter, regardless of the dainty lilac and silver monogram adorning the flap.

The exoionte of this note were*brief, and wsre written in thick and dashing haJd, Vrmously a woman's, in spite of its affected maecuhneu&a%pThey ran

I mrf redly auR»7 with you, and gliall b« glad 'JW wImmj this to end. Surely you \mcvtL-3«lveA my two last letters, telling you cOlTi^lr blown ove% and that you need not fear to mam* It Is not fair to leave me alone to bear the brunt of everything, and I fed! I cannot parry inquiries much longer. What can you,

all men In the world. And In such an out-of-the-way corner of the. earth to keep you away from London nor, of all time* In the year! Anyway, 1 ask you to coino back. The part I am playing now 1«, at you know, foreign to mf whole nature but with you to support me, things were bearable at least. Again I say, Harold return, or 1 will not answer for the consequences. BZATBICX.

He read the letter twice through, with an expression of irritation on his face. Then his stern month relaxed again and softened into a kind smile.

Poor Beatrice! A good creature, but I wish she would not be so tragic it is necessary in private life. Still, is right I ought to be getting back, ^and it is—as she savB—hard on her. t^Nest week, then, I must pack up my Straps."

He sighed as the vision of Madge's gentla, childlike face rose before him and lie thought how the bright teara wouM gem her lashes at the news.

He still hold the letter he had just read In-tween his fingers. Then starting from his rovorie he tore it across, and crumpling it into a ball threw it into the empty grate.

He hod almost forgotten the blue mia-

fj» \isive, which lay on the table at his elbow, but 148 ho rose his ayee fell on it. He opened it carelessly and without interest.

The only contents of the envelope were a half sheet of soiled with a few paper, words penciled on it, and a newspaper cutting.

But Harold Carriu his faoo b^camo blam leas and cold drops of

I aJw^ya foarod, I'al

^5 one day it would bo trusted me he on him^gjpcl ing, 1 afei1 bodonoi but what? Jhl wttavr

while

Utterly stunned and ^rushed, he stood looking in a daeed way at the piece of paper in his hand. He had been

daily

dread of receiving the tidings it conveyed, had known that at any hour they might come upon him thus. The thought had been the hunting nightmare of his life, and in^his proudest, happiest mo ments had often come to torment Mm. Yet the blew was none the less hard to bear..

Taking out his watch he saw that it was about a quarter to 11. The inhabitants of the cottage breakfasted at 8 Jhe had, then, nine good hours before him in which to think and act

Fortunately for hhn his bedroom waa on the first floor. To open the front door would be too great a risk the lock was old tuid clumsy and creaked with a jarring sound when the key turned. But his window was within easy reach of the ground, and could be opened and closed without any noise.

Ho began to take off his white linen suit, then paused irresolutely, ending by drawing on his coat again. He took from a hanging press a long, dark ulster and wrapped himself within 'its heavy folds. It covert*! him ahnoet completely. "Yes, that will nerve my purpose beet," he muttered. Then, his csye'falling on a small box at the top of the press, oe exclaimed under his breath, "The very thing! What a fool I was not to think of that beforel It sw?ms almost provider* tial, and yet how enraged I was when I found that ass, Jean, had sent them by mistake! 1 little dreamed for what purpose I should one day use tlumv.**

Ho stood motionless an instant, a look ofoxossdim jsiin on his face, and then, rousing himself, unlocked the box and took from it a wig and beanl, moat ejequisitoly made of the finest soft white hair also wane small poia of pigment*— rouge and grease paints. with unusual skill aad dexterity he hkfiicsa. Mid jmt on the hair and heard, which fitted him admirably. Uo one would hat« recognised him, so extraordinary waa the change in his appoarance.

He murmured a few words, tmitating the toothless mumbling of a my old man, *nd stooping R%htly, kvokfid at him«eUr in tbe glass. Tho whole thing was perfect and a shabby fait bat, having Urn brim wall brait down, completed the disguise*

HarcOd took up the letter and jmt it ta his bnjast thtm, oponing tbe window, he awtmg himself lightly out cloi^ tog it softly behind him.

Tho ttttb gankn waa jQooded xe&b. vivid nioottught He It «tmlthUy, keying well in the shadow of the taws, and managed to tmek the gate* which open«Hl with a o&ek thai mad* bdxa ((tart nemnialy, hod the cottage r*» m«i&ed wrapped in dsrtaiaw tad «toa» bar. Not till he was w«Q oo road to

atop Mddattiy^ aittb &

Vf- ffy*

In his agitation be- had forgotten one thing—to lock bis door from the inside, which would have been, a prudent measure for many reasons But it was too late now to go back. S3f

Olive St Maur had gone to bed on her return from Trevarrock bay, pleading a headache,

To bed, btit not to sleep. She tossed about on her snow white pillow, her mind full

suspicious and restless fan

cies, and found the night oppressively hot, in spite of the open ?rindow, through which the night fragrance of the jasmmo atole subtly.

Her ears, preternaturally sharpened, caught every echo without—the distant roar of the sea against the low, red cliffs, the sleepy chirp of a bird in its nest, the tinkle of a sheep bell in a- tar meadow. Thai, suddenly, an unwonted sound made her start up with a thrill of something very like terror, though her nerves were of iron. ||f

A step, flow and sttv.lthy, in 'the garden on the gravel the noise of the gate latch being softly raised.

She jumped out of bed and ran to the window raising the blind cautiously and peeping out at the side. What she expected to see she could hardly have tpld, but what she did see almost stunned her with surprise and bewilderment.

A tall figure, apparently muffled in a long, black cloak, had just stolen oat df the gate, and by the outline sharply defined against the moonlight Olive knew it to be Harold Carrington. "Hie light was too uncertain to see the wig and beajgd could she have done so, she would have been still more mystified. Her brain whirled as she straiajbd her sight to watch his movements. What could be his motive for thus leaving ftie house stealthily in the dead of night?

With bare feet she stole quietly downstairs and listened at the door of Harold's room. All was silent. Had he been in it and asleep she could have heard his breathing, for the head of his bed was close to where she stood.

With a heart beating to suffocation she opened the door gently and looked in. A flood of white moon rays lit up the room and shone on the bed. One glance told her it had not been slept in. The chamber was empty.

A candle and match box stood on tne table. She struck a light and made a sharp inspection. .There was nothing to repay her curiosity, for Harold had locked up and put away the rouge and other things after using them. "I must make haste up stairs again, for if I were to be caught it would be too dreadful," Olive mattered, moving away, her dusky cheek crijnsoning.

As she turned to her eye fell on a crumpled ball of paper in the fa^er, and she picked it% up^&ickly, attracted by the writing^he s^ on it Jj, "Part of a id in

hand!* she saidviv to^era^lf, anfcshe •ufci looki% rom rfe|l|fc§P

uhuu euo oww, liberately xxpJfrl&m with a shiver, deculed to own rpo* bifore reodi^ stnughtearod the bits of* mastered theii|MSRtw^ "All over.. the eecret of BT^brange^ J? And

vrm

sho--a ttro9r? No, of that, 'though she

nothing of Harold's femily Bfesweethoart? Hardly there was flomempg in the tone of the letter init with that theory. Only a i's wife* would write to him in sucli a vein—familiar, half affectionate, yet censorious. The red blood rushed to her brow. "How he has lied to us! But he shall be punished. I hold one strand of the

At last it was rewarded. Harold Carrington—pale, haggard, with the dragging steps of a man much fatigued—came slowly in sight a$d treading softly over the deysy grass, got in at his bedroom window, aad closed it after him.

-CHAPTER Vj

UP JAIUUHICU* A *4W*vA VMiQ OWACMA* \M VUU O J" 1 c3dw in my it b© hflrd, Harold Carrington shooid 000 her it '. ... a ix_ a it arw««WMii 1n«4rtn if I do not track the 8read to its end."

Noting the address stamped on the paper, a fashionable street in Kenetagfon, die carefully locked up the letter in her desk. Then putting on her dressing gown, she seated herself at the window and watched for Harold's return with the patience of a tigress crouching for a spring.

Hours passed. The morning dawned gray and cold, and tho fresh chilly breeze m«l* her shiver, but die did not relax her vigilance.

But at every step the mystery seemed to deepen. When he went out he had been enveloped in a thick dark ulster now he wore only the white linen suit he had gone out in on the previous day, and (though Olive did not know this) wig and beard were gone, and all traces of his fHttgnlsifi removed from his face

He little thought, as he flung himself, half stupefied with weariness aad sorrow, on his bed of the wakeful eyes hat had spied upon his secret mo*-«menta.

rrvs HttSBRED FOUSDS RBWAIUDwV.f

wk that yon kn*

EtrtbeiMKt few dAys things wisal on machaautual at IhacoUage. To oak-

tieipwl Mrs. Tpfevyllan garden

aad talked with Olive about the books he lent her, and no one dreamed of the strange, fierce nature possessed by this odd, contained girl. She knew now that she loved Harold with» very passion of despair loved, yet hated him, becauseof a jealousy more cruel thaa death, whici threatened to destroy all her peace af mind—all the good in her heart-

Every word, every look that Harold gave to Madge seared deeply into her brain. She was not half so bitter against "Beatrice," the writer of the mysterious letter, even though she supposed her to be his wife. For she had not his love. That beloiiged to Madge alone.

That. TTamld could never be anything to Olive, whether married ©r.single, she knew welL If he had laid his heart at her feet, she would have counted the world wklloat for his sake, and would have followed him to the end of the earth—despite Beatrice or any other woman. But he hadslighted and passed her over for Madge. Let him then beware! KMI

Well Mre. Trevylian tremble, and dissuade Olive St Maur from seeking a living in the wide world. She alone knew how terrible an inheritance had come to Oca motherless girl at her birth and for years she had watched over her with ceaseless care and anxiety.

Olive was the only one who observed Harold covertly and keenly. She remarked that his gayety was oroed and fitful that he would fall into brown studies, and answer wide of the mark often. He looked pale and careworn, but put it down to the heat when Mrs. Trevylian spoke of this, saying it "always knocked him up and made him feel a

And yet, though pleading tiredness and lassitude, 'he would make long excursions inland and seaward, pleading that he had neglected Ms work, and must make up for lest tim% But when asked by Olure or Madge to show his sketches, fceFwould always evade the question.. One day a sharp, double knock had come at the door during tea time—a somewhat unusual thing at the cottage. Harold, who had been discussing politics with Mrs. Trevylian, started violently and turned red, then pale.

It was merely old Ben Trebilco, who was a kind of carrie#between Trevarrock and Penzanoe, and had brought a parcel of groceries: and Harold passed off his nervous start with a joke. But Olive alone was not deceived, and that evening a still stranger thing happened. Ben had also broughVas was his custom, the weekly looal pajfesj-^tfhe only extravagance of the kinaljjm which Mrs. Trevylian indulged. fju

Harold (^rringt&fcselaom glanced at *fc*-as ho got The S^dard daily from Jjotidon. ated had beefiin the habit of lending jt l$#be girls and MrsJTrevyMn. Thig&by th6 had not dori&'of '-later An^ thought ^ge had pnjjel *®^h(2d,M|h6 hadfec he past pa upTB^

/seated mlthebig the windQyrji^p

Madge had gone out to feed her bocbins^her Mother was daintily rinsing old china tea things raid silver in an oakot^owl in th^ldtc^n, for Mrs. Trevylian was too trt£bYa gentlewoman to keep a serasmt when she could not afford it ^"Ther»is no disgrace in honest work, bift there ii in debt," she would often say to Madge, who thoroughly agreed with her mother, and helped hex readily and cheerfully.

But Olive* loathed and hated the household drudgery, and was bitterly ashamed

dusting the parlor or laying the cloth for dinner. She little thought how he admired and respected her cousin for the very things she thought worthy of contempt

By tacit consent OUro always did the lightest port of th8 housework. When Madge, as a child, \fould sometimes say this was unfair, her mother always silenced her. "Your oousin Olive Is not so strong as you are. And, door, we must not let her ihfnk \pe would be hard upon her,^^caose she hoe ®o other friends.'*

She little dreamed that her mother had another, and a

far

strongep reaeon, tor

never crossing Olive, or rousing her atrangdy suUeu, vindfcttve tempec, when it could be avoided Madge knew that her oousin had o&d gloomy fits of passion at times, and sheXraa always frightened at her in tfceee-moods. Indeed, though OHve apjeared to grow completely out of them aa shgrgrew older, the memory of a scene she had passed through nerver left Madge all the rest of her life.

A white kitten had been given to the children "by Judith Trebilco. At first it had attached itself to Olive, but after a time the capricdous little creature trans* ferrejJ its affections to Madge, and would hardly leave her side. One night Olive, missing it, had found it asleep by Madge on her bed. Sfee said nothing, but with set teeth and flashing eyes, snatohed the kitten from Madge's grasp and flung it with all her force out of the open window, in spite of bear coufdn'S screams and entreaties. It was killed instantly, its head striking a sharp atone, aad though Mrs. Trevyliaa hadbeatesa Olhr© severely (tor the first and only time) she had dogged and impenitent siyfotll

And evia now, though they were the best of friends, or apparently BO, there were times when Madge failed to understand Olive, times when hear aunt would watch her anxiously, yet. secretly, with the shadow of ever growing dread upon bar.

Harold Canington aa& reading

MIB.

Tba

Pesnxtce Herald, or appearing to do ao, while Olive, half hidden by a high old fashioned screen, was mending boose linen at a small wider table, but watching Mm furtively. Presently she saw his f»ce grow deathly pale, and he leaned his head on his hand with a groan. He did not see Olive, and she made no sound. Crushing up the paper with nervous force, he left the room. When, a Uttto later,

Trevylian inquired for

ittt wasxtot sobefoend. day Olive walked down to the village and aaked .Ben Trefailootoget

heratfother cojy of that week's Herald, telling. Judith to keep it until called for. Meaawhile she contimied to watch every night at the window, and three times had she seen Harold go froih the house and re-enter it again is the same stealthy way|J| '.

On titie day appointed she called at the post office for the paper, and going on to the gorse cohered moorland she sat down m^he'riiadow of a deserted quarry, to read,!3t,alone. Twice she ran her eye over the sheets without finding any clew to what she sought At last she turned to the advertisements. These also she read nearly through before the following Tjrords riveted her attention, and made' her breath come- in short quick gasps:

Five hundred Pounds Steward.—Missing, since the beginning of July last, a gentleman, sged from thirty^™ to fortr, tall, irlth dark hair ft®ggmjitgi to torn gsay,- dark mnstacho, bronm*! complexion, gray wmalV crimson mole or birtlx.Baark on right temple scar, deep, as of cat, on back of one hand. When last aeen was dressed in brovra tweed suit, a wideawake to matob, blaok tie,, with Indian gold scarf ring. Linen probably marked H. C. Any one girfi* information as to the present whereabouts of the Above described wiQ receive tbe reward named.. Bolton & Baker, solicUors, Andrew's Court, St. Swithin's Inn, London.

So that was why Harold Carrington/ had destroyed The Penzance Herald. That he was the person named in the notice Olive had not the shadow of a doubt. The description, corresponded exactly. Trne, Harold had no mustache, but under the circumstances that slight discrepancy was easily accounted for. The rest agreed to a. hair, even to the red mark on the temple and the scar, which she had often noticed. Once Mrs. Trevylian had asked how this had been done but he had parried the question with an embarrassed laugh. Olive tore the newspaper to fragments, but cut out the notice first with her penknife and put it away carefully in her purse.

Then, with an odd, cruel smile playing round her ir nth and a look of set resolution on her face, she made her way home.

Sicame in by a path leading through the back garden, for, always secretive, eve^ when there was no reason, she did not elioose her aunt and cousin to know that she had been down to the village. Voices arrested her steps as she passed by a tiny rustic arbor, where she ar I Madge frequently sat with their work in summer.

Olive paused and listened. Some words frfe/l met Jier ear that held her motionless withjset lips and glittering eyes full of wihfSfecorn and envious rage. Madge was thf speaker her companion was Harold Gajrington.

I have noticed it, though I have

aftW nothing. You are looking ill, unlike youiaglf, Mr. Carrington. I havethought eomfttimes that you have- had bad news—arejn trouble, perhaps. I do not want

mpryjfoto

y@r affairs, but if

we could a^p vjin rn any way—mother is very cliv(?f

,£rs&

might think of some

thing, and .fMadgf "blushed shyly aia.ptf%d.|g "And

you!

What toenf^Bpeak,

Were it ias you=8ay»-you would at Ibfc?* ECarold'e dflPp. r^es seemed to read her very souL" "Indeed I should, Mr. Carringtcm you I know that well."

Madge's e**es were suspiciously moist |Harold's frame quivered with uncontrollable agitation. He took the girl's hand in his and pressed it to his lips. She did -not resist, but looked at him with great, startled eyes, into wMoh anew light had bonie. In th^fc moment Madge Trovyliarfstepped over and left behind forever thefnarrow boundary

Wbcro womanhood and chiklhood meet "Madge, my little Madge, I am in trouble indeed. Child, yoo, have guessed my secret But no one can help me I must bear my burden all alone in silence. Yet it comforts me to know you are sorry for me, dear."

She had hidden her faoe in her hands, and was leaning upon the little, round, rustic table, trembling and not daring to lift her ffece to his gaze, lest he should read the truth and discover what she sought to hide from him. "Yes," he continued, gently, "it makes it easier to bear. Oh, Madger'with a cry of utter desolation, "you do not know what my life has been. I have totiched the summit of a man's ambition—have been envied, courted and yet how often thos6 lines from 'Richard HT have crossed my mind "Nobody love* me, and iM die no soul will pfty me." "How can you say that? You are cruel you do not know"— Madge's eyes flashed, but sobs choked her voice, and again she hid her face, over which a scarlet flush had spread.

The moment's glance had shown Harold alL "Madge—dear one, is'it possible that you care for me? Oh, child} do not condemn me to eternal darkness, after showing me one glimpse of heaven!" He heju out his arms to her and dre^r her golden head down on to his true he&rt, that had never beaten a pulse factor tor any womanJtrat herself. "Tell me that you love me," he whispered, pressing passionate kisses on her soft red lips. "Let me hear you say it, sweetheart." 60 low that he could hardly distinguish the words, her answer came but Harold was satisfied with it "You will toll mother to-night? What will she say? I hope she will not be angry," Madge said a few minutes later.

He averted Ms face tor a moment from her gravely questioning eyes, then looked famMr into IW"Madge," ho said at length, "I have done -what is very wrong. Prom the fin* moment I saw you I loved you. darling so much, that what it cost me to resolve ramarto let you know this yoa camtot teaftea. But the shadow of a scrrow lmng over me then a sorrow which has grown darker ssd mom threatening of late. I cannot fell you wfeai it is for ft touches another a%wea »smyself. I willadtuo woman to'ffeir my name tffl lcsm do so with safety acd honor. Mtftdge. will ywa teTJsitafts Mttle

Will you keeptheaectetof our

lore from world for a time, and be faithful tome—aai shall be to you? 1 ought »o* to have ^oken but your swwst

sympathy and tettderttess overcame my resolution, and, Madge, am but human. Will you promise what I ask, dear?" "1 wfflf' she answered firmly. "But I cannot deceive my mother. Though it has made me so happy to know you love me. we must return to our old footing of frien^hip cmly until slia can be told alL I am%re you will see that tbis is right, and will not be angry." "Angry? No, indeed, sweet one. I honor yout for your decision more than I can telL So let it be, then. But you will kiss me" once more, dear, in pledge that you meant what you said just now?" he pleaded.

Once more their lips met oncc mote he pressed Madge to his heart. Tlieutliey left the summer house, for Mrs. Trevylian's voice was heard callinc for ller daughter, and Harold longed tO'be alone with his new born happiness.

With livid face and somber, hate laden eyes Olive St. Maur rose up from* behind the large dump of Portugal laurel,, where she had knelt concealed, her ear against a chink in the rustic woodwork of thd arbor. Harold and Madge had spoken in low tones, and Olive had only caught disconnected fragments of what had passed."^ f. f§||

But she had heard ic^re'than enough to fully decide her what use to make of the information she had gleaned flrom The Herald.

[To be Continued]

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tt Custom Harness Mukor. Track Work and Repairing a Specialty. 23 south 7tl». rear P. J. Kaufman's Grocery.

A RTIFICIAL TEETH. -CV DU. F. ir. BLEDSOE—DENTIST.

|QE. L. H. BAETHOLOJfEW, T'

DENTIST:

J)B. 0. W.XOOMIS, f^|DEHTI9T.

2(M0 north Mh st. To ire Haute, Ind. 1-square from Electric Car Line,

0. DAJS ALDSON,

J)B. O. M. BROWN,

ony

w*'-

ggTOMH

Remored to 671 Alain st. Terre Haute Ind.ill t"*

ffi 221% ,WABASH AVENVll

DIDiarTXST .v

Office 511J4 Ohio Street, Torre Ilante.' ,1

"HBrW. O. JENKINS

:30

JL/ O'fllco, 12 couth 7 sU .Hours4:80 to Rc8ldu}ag|BH^.lh apd 1 .lnlon. HAui'# Drug fcMOre.

Refildeht telephone Ko. 1W.

"T)B. GlLLmg3.,D. D. 3DjE3:

Wabash Ave., over H«mter'»Shirt8tore, TERRE HAUTE, INDIANA.

cWork

GIVES SATISFACTION IN ALL BRANCHES.

CALI, OK—

655 In Street, South Side.

J.NUGKNT. JBLJ.4,

•vrcGENX & co., m-r:•

PLUMBING aid GAS HTTINQ' A 4 dealer Is Oaa Fixtures, Globes and Etigrlnffar'a gS euppim, itlML SOS Ohio

EMatoUshed mi.

QhWT

Snowmmto Cllft* William*

J. H.

listm

Bsate* tn4

Incorporated

& WILLIAMS 00

Co.

WtvuAxg, Pmidetti. i. M.CM*T*8ecra»d yxirovAcrerjKJCMi or

Sash, Doors, Blinds, etc. :,s

AK»

DMJaxm xn

LUMBER, LATH, SHINGLES GLASS, PAINTS, OILS A1TD BUILDERS' HARDWARE.

Malimrf0tnn,eorn*t9tM.