Weekly commercial herald., 1885-09-18
AFAMILY AFFAIR
BY HUGH CONWAY,
Author Of Called BaekH and Ozark Daya'

-F s4sN CA'F D4b~-
Continued From sunday, May 81
alu .d-u the dawn or the morning
which followed the tragedy, and looked out
Of her casament she would have seen a sight
which would lave caused her much surprise.
she would have seen Sarah Miller, whom
she believed TO be In England, staining on
The opposite side Of the street, utter despair
and anguish written Ia every lineamsnt,
gazing a. her mistress window like one
bidding the ,bject, the dearest On earth, an
eternal farees.i-eternal because even the
eonsoliaS hope Of a meeting in some future
state Is absent But Beatrice, who, in the
earlier watches Of the night, had been awake
for hours with her sorrow, slept on until the
sun was high. Perhaps it was well for her
she did 50.
The poor self-appointed instrument for
working the divine viii had, aftsr she left
the scene Of her dark work, wandered about
the outskirts of Munich, aimlessly and hope
les3ly Had it been broad daylight, and
had there been persons to see her, an occa-
sional stiaed moan and wringing Of the
hands would have been all that showed the
agony Of mind she endured. But itwas not,
as might be supposed, the agony of remorse.
~ was agony at the thought Of the further
sacrifice which such sense as still was hers
told her she must make, norder that the de-
sired and predestined results might follow
the act of the night.
Sne was mad and she was not mad. On
what may be called the religious side Of the
question, her mind. as may be guessed from
her deeds, was gone Iast redemption IL
may be that this had been her true state for
years; ever since she had accepted as true
the inexorable logic Of creed which she had
partly been taught, partly framed for her
self. TIE fire may have been burning for
years giving now and again transient flashes,
and only waiting for certain circumstances
to fan it to consuming fame The farce
burst was now over, but the fire would burn
and not again be hidden until it haddevoured
life as well as reason.
She had killed, murdered this man in all
but cold blood. Apart from the horror at
tendant on the actual execution Of the crime,
horror which began to haunt her and be
ever with her, she felt no poignant misery,
no nladdening regret In her wild, dis
jointed way she lamented, not the mans
death, but the fact that she had been chosen
to bring it about She lamented it even as
Judas might have lamented the hard fate
which, in order that prophecy might be full
filled, singled him out, and decreed that he
should betray his Master And if it be true
that providence saves and slays, who shall
say that the woman's mad reasoning was
unsoundl
On the other side, the material side, Sarah
uof oopl-r
could look forward, plan, and even carry
out. And the anguish which racked her
mind was the homecoming Of the truth,
that her act must part her and her mis-
tess for ever. Aere was the crowning
sacrifice. Here was, perhaps the earthly
punishment. Never again to gaze into that
dear face; never again to hear that loved
voice; never again to be near her to minister
to her wants, to aid her, scheme for her,
and, if needs be- sin for her. Never to see
her in the happiness which had been sodearly
bought, Here was the sacrificed It must
be made, and she must find strength TO make
it, and skill to insure its being of use.
To see her mistress, to meet her even once
more would be to ruin all. She must never
know whose hand it was bore her freedom.
She woul1 never suspect that her servant
had been the means of cutting the knot
which it seemed no earthly power could undo
Ah, no earthly power could have undone it
So when at last the morning broke gray,
and trees and other objects loomed phantom
like and unreal through the mist, Sarah
Miller planned and schemed, seeking the
way to insure what she had so dearly
bought. All her thoughts reached one end.
She must fly far, far from the spot. Bea-
trice must never hear Of her again; never
know that she left London. If her prox-
unity to the dead man became known the
truth might be guessed and all be lost
Yet before she went she must see the
house in which her darling lived She must
stoop and kiss the doorstep on which those
loved feet had trodden. She must watt her
one passionate and unEeeded fare well, then
leave the place and be as one dead.
She struggled against the desire, but it
oyercame her With the first streaks of
daylight she entered the sleeping city, and,
utterly worn out stood before her mistress
window, and for a while watched it as one
might watch the last fading ray Of sun
which has sunk never again to rise, and
tighten the darkness which shall be eternal.
At that early hour of the morning the
street was silent and deserted There was
no one to notice the strange looking creature
who stood and with wild despair in her
eyes, for ever gazsd on one spot Her look
for the time was such that no one, not even
the one most preoccupied with hi; own CON
Germs, could have passed her without feel
ing his curiosity raised as to why she was
lingering there, and what gave her that ap-
pearance of dire distress.
After some minutes spent in this manner
the woman crossed the road. Her limbs
dragged after her and made her exhausted
state apparent She leant her head against
the door Of the house which held her mis-
tress and sobbed convulsively. A dizzy feel
ing cams over her, and she felt that she was