The Evil Genius: A Domestic Story — page 65: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

o4 THE EVIL GENIUS. too was tempted by the refreshing coolness of the air. He took the key out of the lock; secured the door after he had passed pees it; put the key in his pocket, and went down into the garden. CHAPTER IX. SOMEBODY ATTENDS TO THE DOOR. WITH slow steps Linley crossed the lawn, his mind gloomily absorbed in thoughts which had never before troubled his easy nature—thoughts heavily laden with a burden of self-reproach. Arrived at the limits of the lawn, two paths opened before him. Oneled into a quaintly pretty inclosure, cultivated on the plan of the old gardens at Versailles, and called the French Garden. The other path led to a grassy walk, winding its way capriciously through a thick shrubbery. Careless in what direc- tion he turned his steps, Linley entered the shrubbery, because it happened to be nearest to him. Except at certain points where the moonlight found its way through open spaces in the verdure, the grassy path which he was now following wound onward in shadow. How far he had advanced he had not noticed, when he heard a momentary rustling of leaves at some little distance in advance of him. The faint breeze had died away: the movement among the leaves had been no doubt produced by the creeping or the flying of some creat- ure of the night. Looking up, at the moment when he was dis- turbed by this trifling incident, he noticed a bright patch of moonlight ahead as he advanced to a new turn in the path. The instant afterward he was startled by the appearance of a figure emerging into the moonlight from the further end of the shrubbery, and rapidly approaching him. He was near enough to see that it was the figure of a woman. Was it one of the female servants hurrying back to the house after an interview with a sweetheart? In his black evening-dress he was, in all probability, completely hidden by the deep shadow in which he stood. Would he be less likely to frighten the woman if he called to her than if he allowed her to come close up to him in the dark? He decided on calling to her. ‘‘Who is out so late?’ he asked. A cry of alarm answered him. The figure stood still fora moment, and then turned back as if to escape him by flight. ‘‘Don’t be frightened,” he said. ‘‘ Surely you know my voice ?” The figure stood still again. He showed himself in the moon- light and discovered—Sydney Westerfield. ‘* You!” he exclaimed. | She trembled; the words in which she answered him were words in fragments. ‘‘The garden was so quiet and pretty—I thought there would be no harm—please let me go back—I’m afraid I shall be shut out —” She tried to pass him. ‘‘My poor child,” he said, ‘‘ what is there to be frightened about? I have been tempted out by the EOMMICOOOKS (E(©)