The Rock Island Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1877-1885, 1883-09-24


sign such fortune, You would marry
young Dalton. This was the lawyers an
swer to the aH-important question. But
those tender gray eyes, looking up from
under their veil of inky lashes, had told
a sweet secret, and perhaps your
generous heart might count this fortune
a very small thing to fling away for the
sake of the man you loved. This was
the lovers answer, and | hoped still,
Ellinor. to win my darling. You were
not to be made acquainted with the con-
ditions of your uncle's viii until you
attained your majority. You were, at
the time of his death, barely twenty
years of age; there. was, then, an entire
year in which you should remain
ignorant of the penalties attached to
this unexpected wealth. In the mean
time, /, as sole executor your uncle,
you see, trusted me entirely, had the
custody of the funded property John
Arden, of Arden, had left.
Il have told you, Elinor, that | was
a speculator. My profession threw me
in the way of speculation. Confident
in the power of my own intellect, l
staked my fortune on the wonderful
hazards of 1916. doubled that fortune.
trebled, quadrupled it, and when it had
grown to be four times its original bulk,
| staked it again. 1t was out of my
hands, but was invested in, as thought.
so safe speculation, that it was as
secure as if it had never left my bankers.
The railway company of which was
director was one of the richest and
most flourishing in England. My own
fortune. as have told you, was entirely
invested, and was doubling itself
rapidly. As your uncle's trustee, as
your devoted friend, your interests
weresdearer to me than my own. Why
should mot speculate with yourfortune,
double it, and then say to you: See,
Ellinor, here are two fortunes of
which you are the mistress; one
you owe to Henry Dalton, under
the conditions of your uncle's
will; the others is yours alone.
You are rich, you are free, without any
sacrifice. to marry the man you love; and
this, EIlinor, is my workP' This was
what l thought to have said to You at
heclose of the year of speculation, 1876 :"
"Oh, Horace, Horace! / see it all.
Spare yourself, spare me! Do not tell me
any more"
Spare myself! No, Ellinor, not one
pang, not one heart-break. | deserve
it all You were right in what you said
in the boudoir at Sir Honel's. The
money was not my own; no sophistry,
no ingenious twisting of facts and
forcing of conclusions, could ever make
it mine How do l know even now
that your interest was really my only
motive in the step | took? How do !
know that it was not, indeed, the gam
bler's guilty madness only, which i'm
PEELED me to my crime? How do l know
How do know? Enough! the crash came;
my fortune and yours were together
ingulfed in the vast destruction; and |,
the trusted friend of your dead father.
the conscientious lawyer, whose name
had become a synonym for honor and
honesty; Horace Welmoden Margrave,
only lineal descendant OF the royalist
Captain Margraye, who persisted al
Worcester, fighting for his King and the
honor of his noble race; / Ellinor, was
cheat and swindler-a dishonest and
dishonorable man.
Dishonorable, Horace! No, no; on,
ly mistaken"
Mistaken, Ellinor? Yes, that is one
of the words invented by dishones
men, to slur over their dishonesty. The
fraudulent banker in whose ruin the fate
of thousands, who have trusted him anC
I = - 1, = nf%
all, as his friends say, only mistaken
The clerk, who robs his employer in thu
insane hope of restoring what he ha.
distracted, is, as his counsel pleads Il
soft-hcarted jury, with sons of thei
own, only mistaken! The Spectator
who plays the great game of CONNER
cial hazard with another mans money
he, too, dares to look at the world witt
pitiful face, and cry: Alas! | wa
only mistaken No, Ellinor, | hay
never put in that plea. From the mo
ment of that terrible crash, which shat
tered my whole life into ruin and desc
lation, have, at least, tried to look IN
fate in the face. But / have not born
all nv own burdens, Ellinor The heavi
est weight of my crime has fallen upol
the innocent shoulders of Henry Dalton.
Henry Dalton, my husband?'
"Yes, Ellinor, your husband, Henri
Dalton, the truest, noblest, most honor
able. and most conscientious of men"
You praise him so much she sad
rather bitterly.
Yes, Ellinor, l am weak enough an
wicked enough to feel cruel pain i
being compelled to do so; it is the las
poor duty | can do him. Heave
knows l have done him enough injury.
The exertion of talking for so long
time had completely exhausted hin
and he fell back, half fainting, upon tn
pillows. The Sister of Mercy, sun
moned from the next apartment b
Ellinor, administered restorative
MN; ana, in low, broken accents, /
continued:
"From the moment of my ruin, Ell
nor, | felt and knew that you we're TO
ever lost to me. 1 could bear this;
did not think my life would be Ion
one; it had been hitherto lit by no ST;
of hope, shone upon by no sunlight
love- Vogue la gaLerei Let it go {
its own dark way to the end. say,
could bear this, but could not bear ii
thought of your contempt; your ave
: sion; that was too bitter could n
come to you, and say L love you;
have always loved you; | love you as
never before loved, as never hoped
love; but am a swindler and chea
and you can never be minep No, Ell
nor, | could not do this; and yet "
were on the eve of coming of age Son
: step must be taken. and the only thir
that could save me from this alternate
was the generosity of Henry Dalton.
81 had heard a great deal of yol
uncle's adopted son, and had met hi
very often at Arden; | knew him to
as noble and true-hearted man as ev
breathed the breath of human life.
determined, therefore, to throw myst
upon his generosity, and to reveal a
l He will despise me. but ] can bear /
4 contempt better than the scorn of t
? woman l loved / said this to myse
;, and one night-the night after Hen
Dalton had first seen you. and had be
: deeply fascinated with the radia
: beauty of my lovely ward, that We
nipht after the day on which Won can