Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1888-05-31
CHAPTER xxxIv.


surprised, as he went his first round that
night, to see a mans figure leaning against q
pillar in one Of the weave rooms. The fellow
did not appear TO mean any harm; he was
not breaking anything or stealing any cloth,
but how could he have found his way insidet
The watcFman felt little uneasy in spite Of
himself it was such thing as had never
happened before. ,,
aHellol what business have you got thereP
But the interloper did not appear to hear
him. How oddly he looked at the looms, as
If they wereliving things that he loved. He
had not spoken, and his hat shaded his eyes,
but the expression of the attitude was SO
plain that even so rude man as the watch
man could read the tender reHiniscence in
his heart. Perhaps the fellow might be
crazy, but this was no place for him. OH l
didn't know you, Mr.. Breton It's nice
evenin', SIR"
But the mill owner did net even answer
him, and moved away toward Vhe window as
if impatient at being interrupted. The moon
was full, and the sky was clear, only for
few silver edged clouds One, he fancied
ship sailing over the sea, but how slowly 1t
glided; could it go no faster! All! suddenly
it parted into bright fragments and the
wind scattered them pitilessly. He looked
across at the other mills; the moonlight
kissed their grim walls fondly, and sparkled
in their windows like hundred brilliant
lamps. Why. here were his fire escapes close
to the window copiDg-his first business
venture. Philip raised the window and
stepped outside.
It must be nearly time for Bertha to come
with the carriage, as he had arranged, to
avoid possible suspicion. No, there was half
an hour yet. But Philip closed the window
behind him and went down the silent stairs.
He went into his office. He would wait
there for the carriage, it would not be very
long, and then there was one last duty he
must attend to before it came. He struck
match, and the gas shot up SO brightly it
dazzled his eyes. He turned away for an In
slant.
A massive form stood in the doorway.
Philip must have left the counting room un-
locked when he had come in. Some one had
followed him, apparently But the young
mill owner took only one step toward the in,
truder, 1t was no stranger that crossed bis
threshold, but a man whose name was
burned into his heart It was the rightful
husband of Philip Breton's wife--Curran.
His hair had grown long and almost straight
about his neck. His cheeks were thin and
haggard, and the form that had been like a
proud oak was bowed as if it had been
weighed down by burden too heavy even
for giant to bear. Philip stopped short and
looked at the man with speechIess terror He
had supposed him hundreds of miles away.
Could it be possible the outraged husband
had never left the village since their last
meetingi Perhaps his flashing eyes had
watched Philip wooing his wife a second
time, and begrudged him his few cold kisses
Perhaps he had peered in through the win
dows of Philips home; had he not right to
look at his wife, and followed them forth on
every walk and drive, waiting to strike till
the blow should fall most deadly. He had
chosen his time well. Poor Bertha with her
dreams of Como and Chamouni. But what
would he do! Leap upon his enemy and kill
him? The man in the doorway looked too
pale and ill for such violence; would he then
heap curses upon him, the bitterest human
liEs ever uttered' But Curran advanced into
the room with outstretched hand
"Don't you know me, then, friend"
Philip hesitatcd again. There might be
grain of hope yet; he would surely never
have given the young man his hand if he
had known-or called him friend.
"Some one wrote me to come. l don't
know what he wanted" Curran explained
wearily They expect SO much of man;
they want him to be God; and if he were
they would cruelty him."
Philip was recovering his composure. At
first he had felt wild impulse to confess
everything to the wronged husband. He
seemed SO grand so magnanimous; he would
not be cruel. But then his reason came back
to him. In such case as this there could be
no amends. Innocantly, Bertha and Philip
had done him teri i0ie wrong-and them
selves; forgiveness cU,lld not blot it out. God
in his mercy might spare them the penalty
OF infamy; but the injured husband had no
choice but vindicate his honor, when he
came to know.
"You look i'll" said Philip at last, drawing
him out chair. Should he detain him 7
Bertha might come before her time and break
in upon them, the two men both of whom
she had injured so terribly! Oh! that must
not happen Was not that q step in the pas
Sbpnll ho latC
The first man he met would pour the story of
his shame into his ears, and then the catas-
trophe. He must not go-but he must not
stay. Philip looked out into the passage. No
one was there. Curran had dropped into tho
chair Philip had offered him.
"Do look i'll Z" he asked, pushing his long
hair back from his forehead. "Did you ever
love woman who hated you Did you ever
want topour out your life for her, and see that
she despised you You know whom mean.
Why once fancied you and she were lovers
till she told me not | mean Bertha" He
spo,.H the name so te.lGe''i, thrill OF shame
pass;u,. uvrt II..4-,. Atrrna MAs TINS l.,.u'S
wife. Had he not right then to speak her
name tenderlys And SO Curran had fancied
Bertha and he were lovers till she told him
not--ah, Bertha.
''She has left me-" Curran went on in the
same soft, tender tone. II don't suppose it
interests you. But if could only see her
uoWJ nave stlcH u stdlSe leeiltiS tuaU l
might win her back. She made such ten
der sweetheart" Then he lifted his eyes
more firmly to Philips face, set like wall of
rock. SIS there any trouble among your
helpg'
eyes, they have flung all my offers in my
teeth"
sit must have been that which made them
send for me. had hoped, or feared, l hardly
know which, it might be something of Ber-
tina. 1t is queer, isn't it, q woman like her
should turn my head SO completely What
is there about her, did you ever think of itl
OF course you haven't" Curran seemed to
make an effort to dismiss all thoughts Of her
that unnamed him. "You needn't be afraid
OF me; thought you seemed little strange
when came i'll"
Philip started involuntarily, but Curran
continued: u shan't encourage any strikes
against you. God will bless your life for
your work for the poor. If he hasn't yet, he
will give you happier love than he has
given me-" Then he rose with new energy to
bis feet. ~ must go and stop the mischief.
can do more with your laborers for good or
they may be in the hall to-nightp
"Yes." But Philip hurried up to him and
laid his hand on his arm. "But don't go, not
yet"
81 must. Shall you be here long? Well,
will see you again tonight"
"God grant not" murmured Philip Breton,
as the door closed after him. Then Philip
unlocked the great safe and swung back its
green door of iron. He took out packet
and locked the safe again, and carried his
packet back to his office. He turned the gas
still higher and held the packet in the fame
till all that was left Of it was a little heap of