The Dillon tribune. [volume] (Dillon, Mont.) 1881-1941, 1885-09-05
CHAPTER XXXIIL
IT AN MAD.S

II ~ any chance Beatrice, who certainly
had trouble enough to make her wakefui.
had risen with the dawn OF the morning
which followed the tragedy, and looked out
OF her easement she would have sean sight
which would Lave caused her much surprise
sho would have seen Sarah Miller whom
she believed to be in England, stan ling on
the opposite side Of the street, utter despair
and anguish written in every lineament
gazing at her mistress window ike ons
bidding the object, the dearest en- earth, an
eternal ACKNOWLEDGMENT because even the
consoiing hope of a nesting in some future
state IS absent. But Beatrice, who, in the
earlier watches Of the night, had been awake
Tor hours win her sorrow, slept on until the
sun was high. Perhaps it was we'll for her
she did so.
The poor self-appointed instrument for
working the divine will had, altor she left
the scene Of her dark work, wandered about
the outskirti OF Munich, aimless y and hope
iessly. Had it been broad daylight and
nad there been persons to see her, an occa'
slonal stified moan and a wringlng OF the
hands would have been all that showed the
agony OF mind she endured. But twas not,
as might be supposed, the agony OF remorse.
IL WIS agony at the thought Ct the further
sacrihce which such sense as still was hers
told her she must make, in order that the de-
s,red and predestined results might follow
the act of the night.
one was mad and she was not mad. On
what may be called the religious side Of the
question, her mind, rs may be guessed from
oer deeas, was gone EAST redemption II
may be that this had been her true state for
years; ever since she had accepted US true
49, -, ,lo hod
partly been taught, partly framed for her,
seh. Tie tire may nave been burning for
years giving now and again transient flashes,
and only waiting for certain circumstances
70 IAN 1t to a consuming fame The fierce
bursc was now over, but the fire would burn
ana not again lie hidden until 1t Lad devoured
hte as we'll as reason.
She had killed, murdered this man in al!
but COLI blood. Apart from the horror at
en1ant on ths actual execution OF the crime,
q horror VIII oh began tc haunt her and b
ever with her, she .elt no poignant misery,
no niaddening regret. In her Wild, dis
?onteu way she lamentel, not the mans
death, but the fact tuar she had been chosen
70 Drlng 1t about. She lameated it even as
Judas might have iamented the hard fate
wn-ch, In ord,r that prophecy might be full
flied, singled him out, and decreed that he
should betray his Mas,er. Aud, if it be true
tnat . providence saves and Stays, who shall
say That the woman's mad reasoning was
unsound!
On the other side, the material side, Sarah
4uier was, as yet, sane, or nearly so. She
could look forward, plan, and even carry
OUT And the anguish which racked Le'
mlnd was the homecoming of tine truth
tnas her act must part her and her ms.
uess Tor ever. Here was the GROWING
sacrifice Here was, perhaps, the EARTH!
punishment. Never again to gaze into tnas
oear face; never again to hear that loved
voice; never again to be near her to minister
20 ner wants. to aid her, scheme for ne',
ana. needs be, sin for her. Never to sea
ner In the happiness which had been sodearls
bought. Here was the sacrifice. 1t mus