The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1888-09-13

| life have been leading at once. Yes, my
| pile Is made. I have at last what, years
| ago, said would make, and shall be oat
! OF England this day fortnight. What may
not do yet with over q hundred thousand
| pounds and the brains and knowledge which
possess! Good heavens, how suddenly
| the last ten thousand has come! What q
lucky chance it was that threw the young
fool into my clutches! managed him prop
erly, there's no doubt. But yet it was q
lucky chance that brought him to me. Still
it's strange the presentiment have always
had about him. o, bother such nonsens SO (!
What have to do with presentiments? I
shall be believing in ghosts and hobgoblins
next! Yet I seem to be sorry instead of
glad, and there is that fear of some impend-
! ing evil which seemed to have every time
| l saw him. What on earth can this be?''
The last question was caused by sharp
| knock and ring at the hall door. In few
seconds the servant came in with tele-
gram. Mr.. Heath looked at the envelope
| nervously before he opened it. At last he
| took out the telegram, which he read two
| or three times over, as if he doubted tho
| evidence of his eyesight. Then he put the
| telegram in his pocket, whispering to him
self in trembling voice as he did so:
what can it be? What can it be?"
The telegram which evidently caused him
50 much uneasiness was as follows:
| Mrs. Oswald, To James Heath, ESQ.,,
st. Pauls Road, Stanhope Terrace.
camden Town. Noting Hill.
TT is OF great Importance that should see YOU
! to- night. Robert Oswald died at five o'clock
this evening" Please come here at once on re-.
| ceiving this telegram
"COuld it be some conspiracy to get me
| into the house and murder me?" thought
Mr.. Heath, as he walked about the room
with the telegram in his pocket. 20, non-
! sense! need not be afraid of that. They
are very respectable people in the house.
No, depend upon it, it il either that the
mother wants to beg or borrow from me, or
that there is some screw loose about the
policy of assurance. Curse it! Like nv
usual luck. But had better be off there at
once. What curious authoritative way
she telegraphs in, though"
He left the house, and, hailing the first
hanson he met, was driven radidly to St.
Paups road. A servant opened the hall
door before he could knock, and, having
asked it he was Mr.. Heath, conducted him
! up stairs to the drawing room. Though it
was just $50 o'clock, and getting rather
dark, no lamp or candle was lighted in the
room, and as Mr.. Heath entered he could
JNoo NAoNOAA oAAOu5A CAC uCCp UW1llKAt Ju6
figure of tall woman who was sitting by
one of the windows, dressed in black She
roae as he entered and asked him to take a
chair which was few yards from where
she was sitting. From the position in which
she sat, and the darkness of the room, Mr.
Heath could not discern her features very
clearly, and to tell the truth he felt exceed
lngly uncomfortable. He was pretty we'll
case hardened of course; few men had had
more curious experiences, and some of the
scenes he had witnessed in the pursuit of
his vocation were not little appalling. But
just as one of the first things that is taught
to every medical student is that he must
disregard the pain which he has to inflict
on his patients, so, from the very outset of
his career, Mr.: Heath had trained himself
to be perfectly callous about the feelings
and interests of tho people with whom he
was brought in contact. Still, all the teach
ing in the world can not make a surgeon in
sensible to pain which is inflicted on himself,
and it was just because he was apprehensive
that some calamity was about to fall upon
him that Mr.. Heath felt on the present &C.
casiOn sense of fear which almost
amounted to terror.
"You have been prompt in responding to
my telegram" said the lady in a hard, de-
faint voice. ''My son, as told you, is dead.
You have stripped him of his little prop
erty. He died a pauper. You make 1000
by his death. have lately lost nearly all
that was worth. have spent pretty nearly
the rest in nursing him through his last ILL
ness. want twenty pounds in ready money
to pay his funeral expenses. You are the
proper person to give it to me. Do you re-
fuse?''
1 dare say that Mr.. Heath would gladly
have paid twenty pounds, or more, for the
relief he experienced when he heard this
speech. So it was only begging appeal
after all. "Thank heavens!' he muttered
to himself, and for the first time since he
heard of Robert Oswald's death he felt
really easy in his mind.
my good madam" he said, in his usual
tone of gruff determination, "your son
sought me voluntarily. He had ample value
for what he sold me. I have nothing more
to say on the matter, and must wish you
good-night.''
but have something more to say to
you," said the lady, who rose from her
chair at the same time that he did Had
you given me the twenty pounds I would
have been content to let you go in peace
AS it is you must hear why you are the
proper person to pay for the funeral of my
son. Come here; have something's to tell
you which you will remember to the last
day of your life. See-''
She threw open the folding doors that
separated the drawing-room from a bed
room which was brilliantly lighted with
candles. On the bed lay the body of Robert
Oswald. His mother went round and stood
at the far side of the bed, facing Heath,
who advanced little way into the inner
room as if he were drawn by spell.
snow, sir, she exclaimed, do you rec og-
nize me?''
II can't say do, madam" said Heath,
whose eyes were fixed on the face of the
corpse, and who hardly looked at her:
''Twenty-two years make difference, no
doubt" she said, as she removed a scarf
which was tied round her head and let her
long auburn hair fall about her shoulders
'Now, Philip Arnott, look at me again and
see if you recognize the face of the wife
whom you forced to leave you. Look on
that bed and see if you recogniz, YOUR own
features in the face of your dead son.
my sonr' exclaimed Heather Arnott,
as he really was.
since, by an accident, found out that you,
whom knew to have ruined him and from
whom tried to save him, were also his
father. When you forced me to fly from
you twenty-five years ago found protec-
tor for myself and child. We went to
America, where we lived for years as man
and wife. In an evil hour we came back to
England. God or fate brought your son
and you t0gether-the little darling child
whom you used to nurse on your lap-.he
little child who used to pull your whiskcrs
and throw his arms around your neck. You
loved him, though you did not love me; but,
oh, see-there is the result''
For moment Arnott, ID was deadly
pale, looked in her fac and uttered one
word, "Alice." Then he looked at the
corpse again, and said mechanically, as his
eyes were riveted on it: s'Bob"
ayes, Bob and Alice" cried his wife.
''You recognize us now; but what is the
matter-V'
Philip Arnott was swaying from side to
side. Suddenly he fell senseless on the
| floor. 1t was many hours before he showed
| any signs of returning consciousness, but
when he did so he was in state of idiocy, in
which condition he remained until he died