The Iola register., 1886-04-23

/ renewed my efforts to tear opel
the door-in vain. The engine wa.
before me, and, almost on the thought
/ found myself upon it, struggling will
the engineer, who strove to prevent
my mad purpose. Remembered moth
ing more. A sudden crash-an up
heaving that heralded the violent end
ing of the world-the fiying of myriad
fiery particles in the air-and then
oblivion. When recovered my senses
i heard that a terrible accident, mex.
plicable to all but me, had occurred,
and that my wife and her paramouI
were killed, with score of other per.
sons Upon earth was never to see
their faces again"
At that moment William, looking
toward the house, saw for the third
time the mysterious shadow on the
SNOW. In some unaccountable way, il
inspirt& him with unreasonable resent
ment, and nothing but the strong in
terest he took in Stephens story would
haze deferred him from pursuing it.
~When l arose from my bed of sick
ness l was changed man. / had
tasted the sweetness of life, and it had
poisoned my blood. closed my door
upon all humanity. The shadow of
death was hanging over my house-for
oh, William Fairfield! when in my de-
sspair had dashed my baby beauty to
the earth, had not killed her, but l
had MANNED, deformed her beyond all
mortal cure, and she grew into what
You see her now. She does not know
that it is ! who inflicted this bitter grief
upon her. Mercifully it is hidden from
her. as it has been hidden from all
Others until this night. 1t was sup
posed that she met with an accident for
which no human hand was account
able; but j. her father, made her what
she is. /, her father, wrecked her
young life upon the rock of my despair;
and l. her father, hour after hour, day
after day, bear within me the seeds of a
remorse so strong and agonizing that
would tear myself limb from limb could
atone for the blight that 1 have
brought upon my child"
The night had grown very still; no
sound of merriment fioated from the
house. The shadow had disappeared.
As William noted this, there stole into
his heart a suspicion which made him
shoulder.
"Do you wonder now that am
morose, sullen, uncharitable? Do YOU
wonder now that l sbun my fellow
men-that hate them all, scorn, dis
trust them all? But not to excuse my
self have / spoken. Take warning that
YOU are not betrayed as Twas betrayed.
1t is the soul, not the face, of woman
that constitutes the happiness of man.
If YOU ask why l have told YOU nv
story, may in some part truly answer
thar it is to save You from fate SINH
lar tc that which fell to my unhappy
lot"
"To save mer' exclaimed William.
cay" returned Stephen; '.you love
Laura Harrild's face as loved the face
of my wife. She is fair and beautiful
AS was my wife. Learn from me
that every fair woman is alike in this
that she SO thirsts for admiration that
the love of one man will not suffice
her.
You wrong them, you wrong
them" murmured William.
Believe so. and dream your dream
till il is too late. This woman that you
adore plays love and devotion to YOU
when You are together; gives You
honeycG words when You and she are
alone; smiles upon you. presses your
hand. yields to Your embrace-she does
all this, | warrant: and vet tonight
"To-pight!'' echoed William, look
ing around with bewildered air.
This very night said Stephen, in
q tone hushed perhaps in compassion
for the misery depicted in the young
mans face, .'this very night l saw her
<clasped in another mans arms
''You lie!" cried William, in an ag-
.onizcd voice. You lie! As there is
light in Heavcn!'
5. II speak the truth. Be- my child's
life, swear it!'
1t was Il solemn oath solemnly ut
tered, and it was accepted as direct
testimony by the younger man. He
held mp his hands mechanically in
pitiable appeal for silence. and Stephen
.obcyed the motion. In the few brief
moments that ensued, all the glory of
the night faded away in William Fair
fields sight. The moon lost its bright
ness, the clouds their beauty, the white
snow its purity. Stephens 5 whispered
deiilement had deliled the place and
season. Yet duty had TO be per-
formed-his manhood had to b. vindi-
Gated. But first he would make sure:
perhaps he had mistaken the purport
of Stephens accusation.
"Repeat," he said, III set, dogged
tone, "and briefly. whst you have
Siready said concerning Laura Har-
iild."
Two hours since, / saw her yon-
der said Stephen, in measured tones,
pointing to the spot where William had
seen the shadow, pressing man to
her heart with as fond affection as false
woman can show. You can best say
whether that man was William Fair
field"
II was true, then. He had not mis-
taken the meaning of the accusation.
But two hours since! What was he do |
ing at that time? With an effort he |
collected his thoughts. 1t was ut that |
very time he had seen the shadow of |
the man on the snow, and had called |
Laura's attention to it; and she had |
implored him not to go out, and had |
then left him for fully half an hour For |
what purpose? To meet her secret |
lover. to weep and smile over him, to
Weld to his embrace. Had not Stephen
seen them? This man, whom all the |
world condemned and looked upon
with aversion. had proved his truest
friend. Utterly blotted from his men,
DRY was the pledge he had given to the
woman of his choice: "Put me to se-
rere test, and see me smiling at you
with perfect trus.fulness, as do now,