The Queen of The Isle OR SIBYL CAMPBELL'S LOVE

Waihi Daily Telegraph, Volume IV, Issue 1114, 8 October 1904, Page 4

The Queen of The Isle OR SIBYL CAMPBELL'S LOVE

BY MAY AGNES FLEMING

Authot il "Tho Heivcps of Gloii Gowov," "ThoUnseon Bridegroom," do

CHAFfflt XXXIV. KXI'LANITIONS " Oil, Willard, hush I You break my boan !" said Christie. " You must not talk in that wild way. And wo are losing timo ptaying bore, when ovjry second i» more pecious tluin untold gold," sho adddod, starting up. "Come, Willard, come." Whilo sho spoke Undo R-mben, who passed out, unobserved' re-entere<i. "Good-by.oncomcrc, Uncle Heubcu, laid Christio, " we are going. 11 Not' good-by 'yi I, Utile Christie I will go Willi then to Newport." " But, Undo Reuben, tlicro is no nceesity. I know the way.' did tliec think I was going to lot thee walk iiuhiß pdtiiig storm? Thee will ride in thcaonkoy cart until wo reach Newport." • " But bow can you leavo Bettha, Unole Reuben?" , ... " I will lock the door, and Bertha will gO to bed—Will ihoc not. Bertha ?" The maniac nodded, and (till wistfully watched Christie, as though some hint impression that she was to lose her wasforcing its my ttirou»h her clouded brain. , , For tho first lime Willard turned his oyes U[»on her, and save a violent start. In a few brief woids Christie gave him to understand how it had happened he had seen her on the isle. And then drawing her arm within his, Willard led her from tho house, followed by Undo Reuben. Christio took lior phco in tho hmublo donkey cirt, and cowered down to avoid tho pelting rain. "Thco had better ga in, being weak from lias of blood," slid Unrie Reuben to Willard. "Not at all. Do you imagine I would ride wbilo yon walk? I tmi not weak; I feel tho strength of ten men." " This is only excitement, friend; it will not last. Tbee'lmd better get in." But Willard peremptorily refused, jmd took his place on the other sido of the cart, . Seeing it was in vein to urge mm, Hie old man allowed tho animal to start. And Clnistio raised for a moment her bowed bead, to cast ono lust, sorrowful glanco at tho little, isolated cot sbe was never destined to soe again. That right rido through the foroslwith the wind wailing through the wivrirg arms of the trees, with the ruin driving in blinding guests in their faces, with the pall of almoil Egyptian darkness around, above,and on e cry band! That, night ride I sleeping or waking, in utter days, it would rise like a hauntiue vision before the eyes of Willard Drumtnond. AH the great wrong he had done that little, bowed form, fron whose gentle lips no word of reproach ovm fell, from whoso loving eyes no accusinf glance ever Hashed, arose in bitter arraj before him.

Then by n imlural transition, his thoughts strayed lothc futufe—to SyMI. Sho ifiw lost to him now, as much as it' she was dead and in her grave. There was ft sharp keen pang piecing through his henrt for one moment nt the thought; the next a uioro generous feeling filled it, and ho felt as if ho could even joyfully give her up to save her from her awfnl doom. Onco Sybil was saved he would depart with his littlo drooping girl-wifo to some far off southern clitno to somo sunny villngo in Franco or Italy, where tho more genial cl'imte would restore her to health, and where tho wretched p«3t would be forevor unknown. There ho would en" deavour to alone for all ho had oven made hor suffer, and forget Sybil, But that name, as usual awoke ut host of tender sorrowful memories, and something akin to deupair again replaced every other feeling in his tortured mind. Truly, in tho keen suffering of that moment, ho realizod what Divino retribution is.

And go ori—-still on, tha chill bleak night our weary, Bilcnt trio wound their lonely waj. Not a word ws spoken from tbo moment of starting, Christio, bowed, collapsed, cowered in the bottom of tho cart, hor white, thin face hidden in her bands. Undo Reubsn, urging on- tho donkey to his utmoet speed, and now and then turning to seo that liitlo Christio waa aafo, And Willard Drmiiinqnd, with his hat drawn down over his brows, strodo on with bowed head, too absorbed in his bitter thoughts to heed tho flight of tirao. And 10 the .long, silent night lingered and tho dripping forest road was passed at last, Tho rnehncholy journey was continued until morning wan cold and grey cast a sickly glimmer of light along tho wet slippery path, " Morning at last," said U.iclo Iteubon with a deep 6igh of relief. " This has been tho longest night 1 havo over known." "Yob morning," said Willard Drawmond, " and we so far from Weslport yet. Only onodiy between her and an .ignominious death." Unolo Reuben looked at him a momonl end then' at the bowod form in the cart, with a lookoi calm reproach. " Is theo tired, Christie he said approach tog her, Sho liftod her head, deisclosing a faco «o white and haggard, so worn with griof,' that ovon Willard started buck in slarm. " Oh, littlo Christie! I knew I his journey would kill thee I" said Uncle Reuben. "Heel a liitlo liro'l-tlmt is all," she taid. " Dear friend, do not look at me with such frightened oycb ; it is nothing," "Theeis deadly pale, Christie." "lirucold," she said, "no'.hingmorc." " And wet through," • said Uncle Eeubon. "We must slop at tbo first house wo meet, and got some dry clothes and gom» breakfast." " No, no. you must not stop; thero is no timo to lose. Pray go on," said Christie, in alarm, "Thee must take time." siid Undo Reuben, " Theo will hardly livo tq boo Weslport, clso. Dots theo warn to dio a euicide, Christie ?' "Ho speaks truly, dearest—wo must

stop at the nearest farmhouse," said Willard, "My poor Christie, yon do. indcod, look jaded to donth," ho added, sorrowfully.

"It is nothing Willard. If only I can reach Westpuit in lima i care for nothing olso,"

" But I do, Chris tie. I want you to hurry and get well, and como with mo 10 Italy, where our lives will be happy as a fairy talc."

Sho lifted hor oyes to his face with a long stoady gaze, the calm far seeing guzo of a soul lingoriDg on tho verge of eternity. How flainly those sorrowful eyes said "Too late—too late!' But sho did not apeak sho only smiled family and sank wearily back. Thowhiio hands of morning wero now fast pushing oside tho clouds gf night. At tbo end ol half an hour they roached a aomfortablo looking- farm house, and alightod at Illegal, Willard lifted Christie out in his arm?, while Unolo Rcubon kopt off tho dogs that ran out with hi; whip, The noise brought tho farmer himself to tho door, who noticing tho drooping form of Christie, cordially invited i hem to enter.

There was a bright, cheerful firo blazing ou the hearth, and a wormn bending over

(To be continued

it, prcpnrins breakfast. As she placed r okir for Christio, Willnril drew her nßide, and pl-icm : lua nurse iu licr hands, said: "Mv good woman, you ptrocivo the young lady's clothes are wot through. Will ton bo good (.'iiouijli to tuko her to your room, mid furnish her with some dry ones'/''

" Yon, sir; I'm sure Ml bo glad to help her, poor young tiling" said tho woman, with a sympathetic look, Wi lard whispered a few words in the ear of Christie, who moso and followed tho woman from ihe room, while a girl about Chvistio's sizo toot charge of tho breakfast. Willard sauted himsolf near the lire, and fell once mora into a painful royerie, Iroiu which ihc roiurn of Christio aroused him, Ho phiccd a chair tor her besido his own, and sinking into it, she dropped herwear,Ii; t■ o head on his shoulder, while tho young gnl began wringing tho wot from her dripping bail. Breakfast was soon smoking on ibe table, and three wayfarers look seats; but much as they nocdctl food, this errand had effectually taken away their appeti o, mid itwnswiih the'inmost dilHcul'y they could prevail upon Christie eyen to swallow a cup of coffee.

"Can you furnish urn withahorso and gig to ro:tch Newport'/" raid WilUrd, us they rose from tlio table. " Yes; you can come with mc," replied the man; " I'm going there myself in an hour."

" What lime will we be in Newport?" said Willard, anxiously.

"Little afternoon," " And if wo tuko fiosh horses immediately, we can reach Wostport before morning can wo not ?"

" Oh, yes, very easy ; travel nil night, and you'll no there by three in tho morn* ing. B'posc you're going with everybody olsc to too tho woman executed, eh? Lord bless mo! whin's the mattor with her?'' said tbs man, in dismay, as Christie, with a loud, incxpressibe. cry, hid her face in her hands.

"Nothing! nothing!" said Willard, hurriedly, and with a face perfectly colour less. " What time—at tvlut hour, I mean does this execution take place V "Nino in the morning; has to bo early on account of the mob. Nobo:'y over hoard tell of such a crowd of people ns will be there. Most as many as at the Day of Judgement," '• Can jonjjnot start right away'.''' " No; couldn't beforo an hour." "Is there any other conveyance to be hired near'.'''

" No, thcro isn't'" said the man, shortly; "everybody wants their own to take themselves there. If it's to see her hung you want, you'll b) plenty time when I start."