Little Falls transcript. [volume] (Little Falls, Morrison County, Minn.) 1876-1894, 1883-08-24

run her white fingers through; now, he
was old and grim and bald, and altogether
unlovely. She would have altered too,
doubtless, if there was any poetic justice; she
should look worse than hlm-remorse should
have silvered her hair. saddened her eyes,
scared her forehead, and poverty, the iron
heeled, would have crushed her down, for Viii
ton was poor, and the sort of man that would
remain poor all his life, he reflected, with
grim chuckle; the sort Of man who never knew
how to take care Of the pence, and consequently,
never likely to have many pounds that might
be left to their own devices-while he, Ralph
Oldcastle, was rich and wallowing in wealth.
The thought was soothing; it was enjoyable;
money was power. influence happiness, and
money now could buy his revenge.
1t was still, sultry day, with thunder in the
atmosphere. The silence in Pump Court was
unbroken save by a drowsy murmer Of in-
sects in the air. AS he sat alone the lawyers
thoughts went back to Sunday long ago,
when he first saw Constance Reade. The
memory of that day was the happiest of his
whole life-not cloud or shadow or sad recol-
lection darkened it; it was all clear, unbroken
summer sunshine, and it wa; after his return,
she wrote him these tender, loving letters ly-
Ing III the old bureau. At Christmas he went
North again accompanied by bis chum, Harry
Wilton. He was handsome, clever, fascinating;
knew all about church decorstions. acting cha
rades, tableau wants; could sing, dance, skate,
make himself agreeable in score of frivolous
ways Ralph Oldcastle despised, but that found
favor in the eyes of the Ladies' Of course he and
Connie liked each other; that was only natural
seeing that Harry was Ralph's chum; and after
time every one, except the two confident and
happy lover, saw that Wilton was abusing his
friends kindness, and paying more than ordi-
nary attention to Connie Reade. But the holi-
days ended, both young mon returned to town.
aud month after Wilton left suddenly, saying
he had business in Scotland. Connie joined
him, and they were married; leaving her
astounded and indignant father to break the
news to the outraged lover. The vicar was a
man Of honor, and though, as a Christian, he
forgave his daughter, he refused to receive
either her or husband; both had offended past
such practical pardon as that. Ralph Oldcastle
registered VOW to be revenged some day on
them both. and then, with resolution seldom
equaled, he buried every thought of the woman
who had deceived him and the friend who had
betrayed him at the bottom of his heart, and
piled monuments Of thought, hard as granite,
on the top Of them. Wilton gave up the study
of law; he could not return to London and face
his friend, and some of his relatives procured
him a situation in bank in Birmingham. Thai
was the last Ralph heard Of him: he never
sought to know more, but be waited with slow,
unexpected persstency for the turn Of fortunes
wheel that he assuredly felt would bring him
face to face with his enemy. And now the
time was at baud. He had not gone out of
his way 10 seek it; but Fate, who if left to
WIN Wv AS1 "4li, cNa'dHSCo illoSI IulHSo,
brought his vengeance to his very door.
Again and again lie assured himself that he
was happy; that had he to live his life over
again he would not wish it ANY different. Love,
marriage, little children clnging % his neck,
strong sons and fair daughters to cheer and
gladden. him-what did they all amount to?
Vanity and yexation. His daughters would
leave him for the first empty whlpper- snapper
that came by; his sons mig lit perhaps squander
his substauce in rioeous living Toll, care.
worry, anxiety; would he change his life of
unbroken peace and quiet for those rhings9
No. thousand times no AS he sat thinking
sudden shadow darkened the room followed
by a binding flash, and theu q long cracking
peal of thunder, that seemed to shake the
house of Its very foundation. The lawyer
ia aHd across os'' H5 b roa Ehsts r his
smoothing uncannv in the air, some
hing terribly oppressive in the awful
stiffness that followed that sudden peal For
the first time in his life, perhaps, he realized
what it was to feel aione-utterly, really, help
lessly alone. Then through the stiffness came
goutle tap at the outer door, as if the knocker
WAS raised by feeble or falter!ng hand. He
listened in wonder for few minutes: then it
was repeated more loudly, and with strange,
puzzled expression he stood mp and opened
the door. There on the mat, pale, trembling,
scared by the storm. and shrinking back as
if still more afraid Of him, stood Constance
Reade-Conuie as he had known her long ago,
with the same sweet smile, tender, loving eyes
and sunny hair: Connie, uuatered by time or
circumstance, stood before him. mutely plead
ing, with outstretched hands, and with low
suppressed cry he took them and led her into
the room.
CHE IS GUILTY, RALPH, BUT HE IS CoNN1Es
FATHER, AND WANT YOU TO SAVE HIM.
Ralph Olica5tlo placed his emblin ga~s s@s
itor in seat, and regarded her curiously for
a few moments, a. thousand strange thoughts
chasing each other through his brain. ''Was
Constance dead and this her ghost? Was
he mad or dreaming?" H. couldn't deter
mine, and the girl sat silent, waiting for him to
speak
'Who are you, and what can l do for you?"
he said at length, in a slow, husky voice.
81 am Constance Wilton, and I've come be-
cause my mother is very i'll. She bids me
thank you for writing. Will you coma and see
her, as she is not able to come to you, and to-
morrow may be too late.'
''Then you are her daughter?"
eyes her only child, I have no one in the
wide world except her, and soon, fear, fear
-. Oh, Sir, can you do anything for her;
she ls dying. think, of want and misery and
loneliness, and | am powerless TO help her; can
you?' and che caught his hand and looked en-
treatngly into his face
II will do what can, " he replied, not meet
ing her glance; ''what is your want?"
7Come and see mother; she says tomorrow
will be too late"
'sYou have father, have you not?"
eyes, have father, butt have not seen
him for a long time, and mother never speaks
of him now," the girl replied, growing suddenly
crimson and hanging her head, but Mr.. Old
castle asked no more questions. obeying
sudden impulse, he put on his hat and said
he was ready to accompany Connie home,
CHANGING at her furtively as she led the way
down stairs. $50 like he nuttered, $50 like
that it might be her very self Is it q mere
trap, I wonder, or is she really ill?"
He was not left long in doubt; the girl
walked swiftly up Fetter lane and then turned
down narrow street.
In one of the poorest and shabbiest of row
of wretched houses Mrs Wilton and her daugh-
ter were lodging, and Ralph Oldcastle shud-
But Connie passed through double row OF
idlers and loungers without appearing to see
them, and entered q room on the third floor.
On rickety, horse-hair sofa lay a woman
with white hair, q worn, coloress face and
closed eyes-Connie's mother. The lawyer
started and smothered an exclamation Gould
that emaciated woman be Constance Reade?
Surely notl
ssMother dear, here is Mr.. Oldcastle," the
girl whispered, and az she opened her eyes and
extended her hand, he seemed to recognize her.
A strange tremor passed through his frame
feelings Of revenge died out of his heart to-
ward her. but, with some one else, there would
be heavy account to settle.
s'Thank you for coming Ralph," she said,
family, II did not ask you till the very last,
but knew you would not fail me. Connie
leave us alone: have much to say to Mr.. Old
CASTLE"
Reluctantly the girl left the room, and closed
the door after her, but she did not go far She
observed startling change in her mothers ap-
pearance. even during the short time she had
been absent perhaps it may only be the Of
fects Of the storm. Mother was always dread
fully frightened by thunder" she said, as she
stood at the window watching the lightning
cleaYe through the black clouds. But her