The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1886-07-24
FAIRVIEW;;
One September
Night.
By JAMES FRANKLIN Fits.
ICONTINUED. |


l labored and studied the same as ever,
after We became acquainted; never for a
moment did | neglect the sacred duty to
life and health that led me daily amongth
homes of the poor; but, somehow, life
seemed different to me. | dreamed dreams
and coniured up visions of impossible
wealth which | was to gain in few brief
years; wealth that would enable me to take
Paula Burton from the dreary, unsatisfying
life of the factory, and make her the hon.
ored and beloved mistress of the beau tiful
home that somewhere on the outskirts of
the village, | was to rear for her. And
sometimes, IN moments of dependency,
would curse the unhappy fate that held two
such lives as ours SO near, and yet so far
apart For could not doubt that she was
interested in me, and that nothing but OPP
portunity and happier circumstances was
needed to develop interest into fervent
love. Her eyes told me that; words were
not required.
But | could not visit her any more Now
that she was well again, L had no pretext
no excuse for such visits. They would
have subjected her to remark, and there
fore have been unwelcome to her; and
rather than injure her feelings or her good
name, | would have sacrificed my good
right hand. SO | had to be content with
occasional meetings on the street, when she
would always greet me kindly, and give me
that smile which went with me TO my
dreams, and which, | was foolish enough to
think, she did not give to others.
On meeting there was that must be more
fully described On dark night of that
August when | had been something more
than three months in Berkeley. / had been
down among the poorer houses by the river
to visit a sick child, and about eleven
o'clock | was returning to my lonely office,
where / slept, The street was almost de-
serted, and save for the occasional light of
a lamp. it was very dark Looking forward
to the broad strip of light which lamp
some distance ahead threw across the side
walk, | saw a slight female figure cross it
hastily, and vanish into the darkness.
Hardly rod behind came a man on the
run, evidently IN pursuit, and he, too, dis
appeared. ! had no reason to seek mid
night adventures on the street, and could
easily have avoided this one; but-shall |
confess it2-there was something in the
casual, distant glimpse of that slight fit
ting figure that at once suggested Paula
Burton. / walked on, smiling at the alb
surdity of thinking to find her abroad and
alone at this hour.
A cry for help quickened my steps. 1t
shot like an electric bolt through and
through me. / knew that voice; there was
none IN Berkeley-none in the world like it!
| dashed forward. The fugitive and her
pursuer had reached the next lamp, and
beneath its light | saw the white, scared
face of Paula, as she struggled in the grasp
of powerful man.
Silence, my beauty, and give me just one
kiss said voice that seemed strangely
familiar to me. You factory girls need not
be SO prudish.
shrek burst from her lips. Never be-
fore had struck blow with my fist, and l
had never claimed to be either boxer or
athlete but the blow that / instantly plant
ed full in the face of the cowardly assailant
rolled him PROSTATE on the pavement And
she saw me and recognized me; she was
frightened and bewildered; and for one
blessed moment my arm supported her.
Take me home" she sobbed, "away
from him"
| placed her arm within my own, and as
we walked away | cast a glance at her dis
comfted prosecutor, who had just risen to
sitting posture. A dark, swollen lump
over his eye attested the energy of my blow;
the face was distorted with passion; knew
that our recognition was mutual.
II was DR.. Beaumont!
| did not wait TO handy words with him
He was In no condition to resent my assault,
had he desired to do so. l left him to seek
redress and satisfaction when and in what
way he chose, and walked on with nv
precious charge. There were several
squares between the place where l had over
taken her and her boarding house, and be-
fore we reached the latter she had recovered
from her agitation sufficiently to thank me
for my interference, and to tell me in few
words why she was out at such time Not
that | asked her; nothing, Nc situation in
which she could have been found, could
have shaken my confidence in her. The
explanation was simple enough: her room
mate, TO whom she was strongly attache d,
had distressing headache, and she had
veutured forth to procure some camphor 70
relieve it. She had been to the drugstore
and was on her way back when Beaumont
had pursued her. y faint flush of indig-
nation tinged he: cheek as she added that
1t was not the first time when, fred with
stimulants. he had followed her with his
insulting attentions. The cowardlv mis-
creant With hearty, honest hatred l
then hated him, and | secretly reioiced that
by that one righteous blow | had also pun
ished the brutal insult that he had put upon
me in his own house on the morning of my
first day in Berkeley.
We had reached the door of the stairway
that led up to her room. Her latch-key
was IN her hand-her left hand; the other
she held out frankly to me as she said good
night
Good night, Paula
Never had | called her thus before She
did OF reproye me: she did not withdraw
her hand. My heart leaped as Hooked into
her face but | saw something there that
puzzled and alarmed me- She seemed IN
der some strange constraint: the agitation
that had disappeared a moment before now
returned. Twice she strcye to speak, and
at last she said:
Dr. MInton, ! wrote you letter this
evening, which must not be posted, now
that l have seen You again. 1t was to say
that to morrow | am going away. and to
thank You gratefully for ali your kindness.
My heart sank again. Going away" |
repeated.
Yes"
That was all. No explanation; nothing
but this abrupt farewell l fingered:
could not go: it was like turning from the
gate of Paradise to enter darkness.
Her hand was withdrawn. Good by. -
she softly whispered.
Paula, Paula, / cried, don't leave me
IN this way! Tell me where and why YOU
are going:"
i cannot
"Cannot?"
NO; | have promised
One questlon-pardon it. Has it any,
thing to do with the prosecutions of that
scouudrel whom l left on the pavement
yonder3'