LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XX, Issue 1406, 17 August 1878, Page 3

LITERATURE.

SNATCHED FROM THE BRINK. (Argosy.) Concluded. ' Colonel Dane,' she faltered, in a changed voice, ' I solemnly swear that I was ignorant of this. Fred took care not to let me know it. And to think that I have helped and encouraged bim to good heavens!' The blood rushed over her face, dyeing it srimson to the temples, and she broke off abruptly, biting her lip. ' Undo, if you cau, the mischief your help and encouragement has brought about, and tell me where I shall find my daughter,' he returned. ' I will tell all I know. In the note I received from Sidney this afternoon there was au enclosu-e for Fred—just a few hurried Hues, teling him that you, Colonel Dane, were in England, and would be at Leamington to-morrow, and that she had made up hei' mind, at last, to consent to a runaway marriage. He was to take the next train to Birmi gham, and wait for ber at the station there ; she would follow by the one that leaves here at half past oight, aud they could go on to London by the express.' Francis glanced at his watch—a quarter to nine

• Too lato!' he muttered, with a sound like a groan ; they are on their way to London by this time, and once there—but I will follow them ; if there is no train I will have a "special."' And without bestowing another word or glince on Mrs Lightwood, he left the house. When we reached the stasion we found it silent and deserted. A p >rter who was lounging aguust the door of the bookingoffice informed us, in answer to our inquiries respecting the Birmingham trains, that the last "regular" had gone at 8.30, but that a " 'scursiou' would pass through in half an hour, and we could go on by that if we chose It seemed to our impatience much more than half an hour before, the lamps of the excursion train gleamed in the distance Every compartment was crammed with noisy "Black c untry" folks, and it was with some difficulty that we found seats in a second-class carriage—first-class there was none.

'lt is odd,' my companion whispered, bending towards me across the carriage; ' when I took the tickets just now I made some inquiries of the clerk, and he assured me most positively no young lady answering to Sidney's description had booked to Birmingham by the last train. Is it possible that Mrs Lightwoud has deceived us?' I di i not know what to think ; it was all dark to me ; dark as the wide vague scenes through which we were rushing As I sat, looking out into the gloom. Sidney's face as 1 had seen ii last, pale and grave and cairn, rosa before mo with strange vividness, and would not be dismissed. W$ d;d not exchange another word till, on emerging from a long tunnel, we found ourselves suddenly in the light and nois6 and bustle of the Birmingham station. 'Stay here while I make inquiries,' Francis said, as the train slackened speed, and glided down Hie pVform. If they have.— hat do you say ?' he broke off, as I caught his arm with a sudden exclamation. * Francis, look! there is Captain Forrester I'

lie stood alone on the edge of tue plat-

form ; his valise in his hand, his travelling rug over his arm, looking eagerly into every carriage as it passed. My bronher did not wait for the train to stop before he leaped out, and as the other came hurrying up, still searching the carriage with a look of disappointment and perplexity, they mot each o-hsr face to face. I saw Forrester stirt aud reooii, but I saw no more then, for the train bore me on past them several yards. When T alighted it was some moments b'fire I could Hud them in the crowd. At length I saw them standing undo- a lamp, tho light of which fell upon their faces —my brother's white and stern, Forrester's excited and perplexed. 'But I assure you, Colonel Dane, that I have told you the truth,' the latter was saying as I approached. ' Your daughter is not with me, nor do I know where she is. She appointed to come by the 8.30 train ; as she did not I concluded she had been prevented, and I waited, hoping she would come by this one.'

' You had a note from her this evening ; show it to me ;' said Francis abruptly, after a pause.

'lt will confirm what I have told you,' the other returned, as he produced and handed to him a half sheet of paper covered with hastily scrawled lines, which I read over my brother's shoulder. "Papa is in England, and will be in Leamington to morrow. He is more than ever determined to part us, it seems. I have made up my mind at laßt to consent to what you proposed—a clandestine marriage. Take the next train to Birmingham ; I will leave by the one that follows at 8.30. "We can go on to London, or where you will ; I trust the rest to you. I gave you my heart long ago ; now I place my honor in your hands. Yours ever,

"Sydney." ' God knows I would not have betrayed her,' said Forrester, who had watched our faces as we read. ' Before noon to-morrow she would have been my wife, and ' ' Who would have been the witness to this marriage ?' questioned my brother, looking him full in the face; 'Deplanque's successor V

He started, and reddened to the roots of his hair, more, as it seamed, with the sudden surprise than any other emotion. 'Delplanque is an infernal traitor,' he muttered, looki' g down. ' Like master Jike man,' was the bitter retors.

' But if Sidney is not with you, where can she be ?' I exclaimed anxiously ; ' she is not at home. 1

A vague dread of I knew. Not what was beginning to creep over me. ' Francis, let us go back at once ; ask when the next train leaves,' I urged. 'Allow me to ascertain for you,' said Forrester. He harried away, and returned in a few moments with the insormation that the next train was the midnight express. After a slight hesitation he turned to Francis and added : ' I shall hold myself at your disposition Colonel Dane, for the next week, should you require satisfaction. That is my London address.' He handed my brother a card, which the latter tore in two, aud threw away without glancing at it. ' Gentlemen do not fight now, and if jthey did, no 'gentleman would fight you,' he replied with an emphasis which brought the blood to Forrester's cheeks. 'lf you had succeeded in your villainous scheme, I would have given you a vill :in's chastisement ; as it is, I only require you to keep out of my path for the futu; e. Come, Kate,' and, drawing my hand through his arm, he moved away. The tender, luminous rose color of dawn was creeping over the eastern sky when we reached home once m~re.

In tho pale, mysterious twilight, the house, with its closed shutters and drawn blinds, had a ghostly look a look that made me shudder, reminding me of death. The door was opened by Carter. * Where is Miss Sidney? has she returned ?' was my hurried question. ' Miss Sidney, ma'm ? I thought Bhe was with you ; no, she has not returded.' My brother and I looked at each other blankly. 'Perhaps she hns left a letter,' I suggested ; ' let us go upstairs and look.' I led the way to her bedroom. At the door I paused, and obeying an instinct I have neve>been able to account for, motioned to him to wait and let me go in first. I entered, but had hardly crossed the threshold when I drew back, with an inarticulate cry. The window was wide open, admitting the chill air and cold grey light of dawn i a small writing-table stood near it, on which still burnt a shaded lamp, and there, with her back to me, sat—Sidney. She was dressed as I had her th<i night befor.e ; ber h*t and a small travelling-valise lay on a chair near her. Her letter-case was open before her, and she appeared to have fallen asleep in the act of writing, for her cheek rested a half-finished let-er, and the pen was still in her fingers. AU this I saw at a glance as I stood on the thre mold; a dreadful fear lutched at my heart, and seemed to turn me to stone.

• Sidney!' There was no answer. I hurried to her side. The hand I touched was marble cold : on the fair face I turned to the light was the deep mysterious calm which is never seen on the features of the living She was dead ! Hours before, God's messenger had come for her, in fire from heaven, and without a moment's pain, a moment's warning, slid had been snatched out of life into eternity; snatched from the brink of ruin, from dishonor worse than death, from long h<aitbrean and bitter shame and misery. Even to us who loved her, it was not difficult to say " Heaven's will be done " The unfinished letter was to her father, a few tear-stained lines, entreating bin forgivefor the istep she was about to take. We ascertained to a moment the time of ber death, for the works < f her watch had been stopped by the fat;d dash, and the hands pointed to half-:<ast seven. And now occurs the question which has haunted me ever since. If ridney died at hnlf-past seven, who, or rather, what was the figure bearing her likeness which I behold at eight o'clock ? I leave the answer to my reader.