Waterbury evening Democrat., 1888-02-18
CHAPTER 2XXI.

Philip left his wife to fall asleep if she could, and made his way to his study where he and his father before him had fought out s' many battles. His secret was out. The pohce might be at his door that very night to cialm his bride back from hlm. He had beaten one man for her, but he could not de iend her against the force they would bring against him. The air of his little village had grown close and suTocating How long would it be before the storm would burst. lie trledsto calm himself and calculate how much time his crowding destiny would give him. He was rich and powerful and had many friends, and nothing that could happen to his wife could make him less formidable, though 1t might break his heart. There was not soul in Bretonville that had some thing to hope of his favor, or to fear from his displeasure. He could shut up his mills and thesvillage would become a desert: he could lower wages and send starvation knocking at every door. And there was not one creature in the village but knew his power. He had not used it to harm them yet, but would not man forget mercy in defend ing his own home? And then what did they know, after all, even the mob that had in- suited his wife? They might suspect, but suspicion was not enough to give them cour- age to assail all the bulwarks of wealth and responsibility about such home as Philip Breton's. Even the discharged servant, Thomas Bailes, did not hold(he trump card in this terrible game of life and death. No one held it but Giddings, the lawyer, and he was provided for as yet.
 Philip paused before the window. There could be no vital danger yet It would take time. His enemies were on the right track, but there were blind windings in it that would hinder the scent. Hinder it, but at last whata His mills seemed to hold him in bond age. His life work was here where the dan- ger was, to show the world what an en- ployer ought to concede to his workmen To set a bright example to soften the rigor of his class. Could he forsake his glorious work! To be sure his workmen were prov ing themselves ungrateful, and murmured louder against him today than ever against his father. They had taken their children away from the schools to spite him, though he would not suffer their little bodies to be tortured in the mills any more They be- grudged him his luxuries, as if it were their money that bought them There were no more smiles and hearty words for him from he poor he had done the best he knew for, aud all the manufacturers around were laugh iEg at his failure, as they called it.
 But look of determination came over the young mans pale face. He believed he could plant his feet like the rock and wear out their impatience. The violence of his people should not make him tremble. He
 
 ieve it. He had not done all they wished. but he could not see any further yet, and he would take no step blindly because of TO- breaches. If he were not right he was nearer right than thousands of his class. By and by their turbulence would subside, when it could not stir him, and his measures would have time to bring forth the1r certain fruits of smiles and prosperity. New blocks of mills would stretch away in all directions, and the ha1y oo+taoos o al1 tSa R;11s ana ua1le1 ,aa,.
 But Bertha. Did he love his mills or her the mores She should not be permitted even to guess her own terrible story, or her life would be clouded like his. But the air of the vil- and the hand of pitiless justice would be laid upon her. Should he wait for its God had granted him one week of peace, and now this month for warning. Was not the world larges were there not high mountains and unpeopled deserts, where they could be safe? where he could hide his darling from insult ing looks and words, where no prison cells gaped open for hers
 A sudden great light broke over Philips 1ace as he walked his little study with rapid turns. He could save her. The plan un- folded itself in his mind. There was yet time if he were quick. He must give up his great plan for his workmen; he must sell his mill, but he could yet save his wife if she were willing. But she might refuse to go. Philip hurried to the room where he had left her and opened the door so suddenly that she started up in terror, Her nerves were so shaken that day, poor girl
 ''how would you like a trip to Europes"
 ''You are joking, Philip.,' Was it eager ness or aversion in her eyess He felt afraid to look and see. What resource was left if sho would not goa "How can you leave your
 There was an infection in her voice that made him glance quickly at her face. The coldest women have their enthusiasns; he had touched hers He hardly knew her, her lace had such new vitality in it.
 ''And would you really like it so muchs' he said, with his deep tenderness, that had 0 touch of rerroach in it, which she was too dull ever to catch He came up to her and explained what charming routes they should Not France and Italy and the banks of the Rhine alone, but even Egypt and the far east, not 0 spot of beauty in the whole far off world, but they would enjoy it.
 A flush was on Bertha's cheeks, at last, and her eyes shone like young girls while a lover whispers the first romance into her ears. And Philip sat by her side only too happy to see her smile, and to touch her golden braids of hair.
 It was after the table in Mrs. Ginness' fac tory boarding horSe had been set for next mornings breakfast, which was soon after tea this same day, that ono of the boarders came into the dining room and cleared away the dishes in front of him to write a letter.
 
 but everything was painfully clean, remind ing one of the aching arms of some poor woman, everything but the table cloth. Clean linen is one of the most exclusive luxuries of the rich; the industrious poor may achieve shining floors, and glsteping faces, but spot less linen is quite beyond them. But it made very little difference to this man tonight, for his eyes were swollen so that dis eliminating vision was out of the question. He spread his paper before him, and ! after uncorlSing bis ink bottle, made two or three abortiye attempts to dip his pen. Then Bailes, for it was he, looked around to see if l any body was laughing at him. But the room was empty, all but a French girl and her 1 lover in one corner, who were quite too much taken up with each other to take notice 1 of anybody else, Then he tried again, and 1 this time linked not alone the pen and half l the length of the holder, but the palm of his l hand in addition, and as natural but ap- parently not foreseen consequence, that DOT l ticn of the tablecloth within his reach. If it l had been much that Bailes had cared to say, I he probably would have given it up in de spair, but it was of1y two lines, and even a 1 blind man could write two lines, if he had a whole sheet of paper for leeway. The two l lines Bailes wrote were these:
 "Curran. You are wanted here at opce' l A friend"
 CHAPTER XXXII,
 ! TO0 LATE