Part 39 (2/2)

”Well, you will soon be gratified. She has found it. Do wait, don't be so impatient to meet her at the foot of the stairs.”

I did not wait though. I gave one glance at the soiled sc.r.a.p--it was enough--the pen and ink name had faded out, but there were three words--talismanic words--in pencil marks, evidently added as an after-thought by her who had first written her name in ink--words which sent me out of the door, and half way to the next street, before that voice, sent after me from the stair-head, of ”Do stop him, Bridget, he is crazy, to go out in this rain,” had reached my ears. It did not stop me--I was gone beyond the reach of her voice. The girl stood amazed. She looked at the sc.r.a.p of paper with about the same degree of astonishment as did the savage tribe at the white man's paper talk.

”Bring it to me, Bridget.”

”He is gone, ma'am.”

”Yes, yes, I know he is gone, bring it to me.”

”I can't ma'am, he is gone.”

”Not him, Bridget, the paper, the paper. I want to see what is on it, that has driven that man out at this hour, in such a rainy night.”

The girl looked at the door just closed, shutting the man out in the rain, then she examined the corner where the cane and umbrella usually stood, to be sure they had gone out too, that she had not been dreaming all the while; then she gave a glance at the table to satisfy herself that the hat had gone with the cane and umbrella; then she looked again at the paper, to see what magic power that might possess, to do such midnight deeds. Papers have great power. Poor Bridget, she could not read, but she could feel, and she knew that there was a cause--the effect she had seen.

”Bridget, what is the matter? are you frightened to death?”

”Yes, ma'am. No, ma'am--only speechless. Did you ever see the like? that that little dirty sc.r.a.p of paper, I picked out of the gutter, should send the gentleman out of the house faster than I ever saw him go before in the year and a half I have been with you. What does it mean? Will you please to tell me, what these little marks mean? What does it read?

There now, you can see them good. Please, read them to me, ma'am.”

”Little Katy's Mother.”

”Is that all?”

”Yes, and quite enough. I wonder not he went so quickly. I almost fancy I can--

'By the lamp dimly burning, or the pale moonlight-- See where he goes--'

almost past whole house fronts at a single stride. If a cart is in the way at the crossing he will not go around--two steps and he is over. If there is a bell at the door, take care, or the wires will crack. If a knocker, it will thunder loud this night. Woe to the watchman, who, thinking he may be a runaway burglar, puts out a hand to stop him in his walk. The bull, that b.u.t.ted the locomotive, made equal speed in his intent. He went down--the steam went on.”

”Is he mad, ma'am?”

”No, Bridget, only enthusiastic. If he is mad,

'There is method in his madness,'

he is only very much interested about a woman.”

”Oh, yes, ma'am, I understand it now. I have seen gentlemen often mad after women. I suppose little Katy, then, is his child.”

”Oh, no, Bridget, you are all wrong. She is not his child.”

”Oh, well, ma'am, then, I suppose, she is somebody's else child. And if her mother is an interesting woman, I don't see as there is anything so very wrong about the matter. What am I all wrong about, ma'am?”

”Little Katy is dead.”

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