The times and democrat. [volume] (Orangeburg, S.C.) 1881-current, 1886-04-22

: I put it a,ray ,,nder lock and Key
cared, the whole world might know that
Julian Lorraine was not my father Such
trivial things as accidents OF birth were
now matters of Indifference to me.
The other papers burned. did not read
one-half Of them. They clearly showed
what manner Of man was Julian Lorraine
before he bought Herstal Abbey and settled
down to the life of a recluse. My life, l
told myself, was spoiled-spoiled by
wouan's treacheryl Aud yet l could not
bring myself to hate her. No-let the truth
be known-I loved her even now-loved her,
although she was living in shame with my
enemy. Ihungered, craved for sight OF
her face. The touch Of her hand would
have thrilled me as of old. Although l told
myself that were she at my feet praying for
pardon, would spurn her and cast her
from me, Iknew that lied. I knew that
if Viola came to me-if my eyes once more
mot hers-I should throw all manhocd's
pride to the winds, and-such was the
strength of my passion-take this faithless
woman to nv heart and hold her there un-
til, as I told my self bitterly, some fresh
lover robbed me again.
Such being my true feeling, picture my
emotion when one morning., Ifound letter
lying on my table-a letter addressed to me
in Viola's hand writing! tore itopen with
cry Of delight; pressed it to my lips;
Had not her fingers touched ltf Then 1
read. It was but one line:
"If you knew all, yo, might Jorgire."'
III / knew allr' What more was there
to knowl l knew that she had left me
without word or n sign of warming; that
she had fled, accompanied by man who
had loved her passionately long before
ever set eyes upon her; that they were,
somewhere or other, hidden from pursuit.
Heaven! what more could wish to know.
''Forgive!" Yes-sbame on my weakness
for say ing SOL could forgive. / could do
more; I could persuade myself thai this
strong. willei man had forced her to fly with
him, perhaps half against her wish. Icou!d
believe that she was unhappy, that she was
penitent. that she loved me still. l could do
more than forgive, could take her-l
should be forced to take her-again to my
heart; even to trust her, and be proud OF
her glorious beauty Yes, could do this
after l hal seen Eustace Grant lying life
less ut my feet. Weak rs was, it Could
not he until then!
Where was bea Where was she! Were
they together? turned again to tic etter.
It gave lie no information as to the writer
whereabouts The paper and the envelope
were plain; the latter bore the London
postmark. It was creased, which told me it
had been sent under cover to be posted IN
London. Sent to whom. The receipt OF
this scrap of paper worked great change
in me. If had ever been approaching that
state in which man accepts tue Inevitable,
it lifted me out of it.
Itspurred NE on to make fresh e1ertions
to discover the retreat OF the fugi'ireS.
That letter-the letter written by her-l
carried next my heart day and night.
False as nv wife had been to me, loved
her; and there were times when recalled
her sweet face, an. marveled how evil
could have lurked beneath such mask.
left Herstal Abbey and took up my
quarters in town. There l should be ready
to start on the moment heard where
Grant was to be fouul. But, somehow, l
was beginning to think that our nesting
would be brought about by pure chance.
London is the placs where all chance mees-