The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1886-05-02


feel that you have right TO know"
The exasperating gentleman suspended his dis
course just at this trying passage, and consumed
an eternal interval in rolling cigarette. Blow
ing stream of smoke through his nostriis, he
continued: "You must know, Mr. Morton, and
confde it to you in the most rigid privacy. that
Bertha is not our own daughter. She is adopt
ed"
He leaned back in his chair and regarded me
as if to reckon the consequence of his tidings.
"Indeedl' / answered. 'WellP
All, you take it manfullyW he cried II was
sure it would make no difference You love her
just as well2n
Better thousand times better,"I assured
him, eagerly. Now that she has no father or
mother, the tie between US will be more binding
than before"
"Ah. pardon me-" he interposed, 'but she has
a father and mother. We are ners as truly as
though we had given her birth She must never
know to the contrary. Remember, / pledged
you to secrecy before spoke"
For that matter, sir. my desires coincide
with your own It would only pain her to know
the truth"
Precisely. But to resume. Bertha is now
one and twenty Sixteen years ago my wife and
were in Vienna. One day visited the i'm
perish protectory in the suburbs. There we
were impressed by the extreme beauty of one of
the little girls. We questioned the guardian
about her parentage. but he could give us no sat
isfaction A few months since, he said, the po-
lice had found her wandering in the streets.
Their best efforts had been fruitless to trace her
antecedents. My wife's interest grew SO strong
that We ended by paying the ransom exacted by
the Austrian law and taking her away. We
named her Bertha for our own child who had
died. We have educated her, and she is ours by
every right save that of blood"
"And does she remember nothing OF the life
she led before you found her?"
Nothing defnite-only stray scraps and ends
not enough to piece out a whole fabric Or
the actual facts she has not surmise."
NV ell and good. Mr.. Guedala. am grateful
for your confidence, ard you may trust me not
to abuse it. Now"
"Certainly-Now you may rejoin Bertha and
inform her of my consent"
We were married a few months later.
AS the reader is aware. when, In obedience to
Bertha's wish discreetly wound it up at june
ture prior to my meeting with her in Sixth
avenue horse-car. During the term OF our
courtship deemed it unwise to breach the Sc
quel. But after we were safely welded, and she
was mine beyond any peradventure or dispute
I decided that the moment had arrived for me to
tell the rest. So one day, in our cozy little sit
ting-room, / opened my mouth and spoke with
out reservation
Bertha looked very grave, and did not volun-
teer a comment even when had finished.
"Well," said, what do you think Of it, Ber-
that Is it not welrd?"
s'Oh, it is horrible horrible" she exclaimed
earnestly, II wish you had not told me-"
''Why, BERTHA urged, You must not take
it SO seriously, nothing is horrible that turns
out 80 happily"
.'But to think she rejoined, "to think We
have to thank that hideous fetch for all our
happiness. 1t seems as though there was some
thing wrong, something unreal in our union, if
it is due TO the fundamentally of that thing
Oh it makes me shudder."
pleaded with Bertha, attempting to lay the
affair before her in more cheerful light; but to
no avail
Eat least she concluded, I'VE must mend the
evil now by getting rid of the idol--or by de-
stroyine it. Suppose we put it into the ireG'
of microscopic carving2 You don't know what
you are proposing You don't realize how rare
how valuable, it is. 1t would be criminal to
burn such piece of workmanship. not to men
ton the ingratitude of the proceeding. Better
than that we might present it to some museum.
mo, ! shall never be contented until it Is out
of existence. l shall never feel secure from it's
influence. What" she continued, did you say
the translation was of that inscription on its
backs"
Quoted the legend which knew by rote.
mot until my heart be pierced will my po-
tency be undone," repeated Bertha. "How is
one to pierce its hearth
"Bore hole through it. / suppose" I an
swered, trying to treat the subject with levity.
Exactly, but howp
"With gimlet"
GOOD. fetch gimlet and bore the hole"
ooh, Bertha."I said deprecatingly, resolved
upon a last appeal, "you are not going to insist
on demolishing IT'D Try to think of what sacri
fee it would be. Just look at its exquisite model
ing"
mo. no." she protested. "If you wish to
oblige me, you will not discuss the subject. If
you love me you won't refuse to grant me such a
little favor. Perhaps I am unreasonable, but it
is wife's privilege to be so. shall never rest
until you have dealt with that horrible monster
as he deserves"
at was with load on my mind that I pro-
cured the gimlet and set about the task Of de-
struction. The poor fetch lay passive in my
hand. 1t did not seek to defend itself with its
electric weapon. Indeed, ever since our we'd
ding day it had conducted itself 10 this respect in
the most unexceptionable manner; as though
its mission in this world had been fulfilled.
bestowed one remorseful thought upon
the Indian artist who, long centuries ago, with
ncalculable toll had done what / now, with
single turn of my wrist, was fated to undo, and
grating my teeth, l applied the point of the GIN
let upon a spot little above the waist and be-
gan the distasteful operation.
My wife was behind me, bending over my
shoulder. The surface of the idol had just brok-
en- beneath the gimlet's pressure, when my wife
startled me with two sharp screams, as if of
pain
"Why, darling" cried, springing to her side,
'What is the matters Are you suffering2"
'.Look, look there,' she gasped, pointing in
d
She seized my hand as though to support her
self. Hers as cold ice
looked in the direction she indicated. My
blood curded at the spectacle witnessed.
The window of our room seemed to open upon
street in some Italian cty-a street that re-
called the Toledo at Naples as much as any
other. In the middle of the roadway a man
stood. He was extending his if to ward
off blow; and his eyes were riveted upon us
with an expression half of intense agony, half of
reproach and appeal. The pallor of death was
on his cheek. His fingers clutched convulsively
at the air. His lips twitehed as if he were trying
to speak. He tottered and fell. A stream of
blood gushed from his nostrils. One by one
people began to collect around him; and finally
a crowd hemmed him in and hid him from our
view. But had recognized him. He was the
IDOLS donor-the old Hungarian Jew.
"Did you sect" whispered Bertha, as the vision
commenced to disappear.
Eyes, I saw" l answered. gazing upon her
pale, frightened face. Her face-her face
could l believe my sensesq How had never