The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1888-06-15

i
father reached his side lie was gaspiug
and half unconscious. He fingered fer
two hours IN a state OF coma, aEd then
quietly died.
IL
Gerald's death was the most dreadfuIof
blows TO both his parents. Mrs. Law
renee WAS unable 10 attend the funeral 80
thoroughly had grief Frustrated her.
Lawrence suffered torture for davs, and
finally showed himself among his ac-
quaintancc- with hair aud beard perfectly
white. But sorrow had not entirely
wrought this Change. He had loved Ger
aid, and lie had keenly suffered on losing
him. Yet the passionate temptation 10
put his name 70 the poem Gerald had left
was now strong in bis heart Who could
ever know the actual fact, IL he did SO,
The world would surely admit him 10 he
u poet il hc should print -Cortes" rs his
own work. lie had read ii over again and
again, since his sons death, and each new
reading convinced hign the more clearly
of its beauty and power. OF course the
suppression of its true authorship would
be horrible. He recoiled before the crime
even while he felt the deadly stress OF its
fascination.
He had never voluntarily committed a
known the real meaning Of temptation.
Honor and reciitude had been with him
has natural as the process of drawing his
breath. The only great emotion of his
life, for years and years, had been ambi-
tiOn To shine poet and the sharp dis
appointment of couceding to himself that
this WAS an unattainable dream. a little
while ago il he had heard that any such
baleful desire as the present one could
have lured him, he would have scofled at
the prophecy rs something which dealt in
the widest improbaGility. As il was, the
guilty longing had sprung upon him with
an insidious, tiger-like suddenness. He
struggled against it with secret energy,
and silently cursed himself for having it.
All the morality OF his past life WAS ar
rayed against IL. There were moments
when he assured himself that he had laid
it aside forever, and that 1t would here
after revisit him only as the gloomy
memory of some hateful nightmare. But
then, after few hours, the demon awoke
with added malevolence. He began to
recognize that his power of resistance was
weaker than the force of his subtle foe.
"It conquers me-" he at last told him
self. 81 yield TO il. In my own conscience
shall forever be a villain, traitor. But
before my fellow-men L shall at least go
10 my HTstNc WIFI uLD4G-lll-Lcu ItHuAt.
His Byzantine history needed but a few
more chapters to effect its completion, but
he could not touch il. He doubted if he
could ever add TO ii another capable line
His mind was in acute and incessant tor
Inent notwithstanding the strange lurid
kind Of pleasure which his final decision
had wrought in him.
The extreme change in his manner, his
fits of moody silence, his cropping and in
secure walk, his abstracted and tremu-
lous language, werc all assigned by his
wifo to but a single cause. She herself
WAS heart broken ut the loss of her son,
and sho never dreamed that the severe
alteration in her husband was occasioned
by another reason than that Of poor Ger
aids death.
Il must be frank with you" she said to
him one day. You seem to be on the
verge of an illness. We had best go
abroad again, and as soon as possible"
''Go abroad" he repeated; mo, no.
have work here"
"Ah, you mean the history Mrs. Law
renee said. ~ am glad, Campbell. that
you have had the heart to finish ito
| concern yourself with Il.
Certain words rose to his lips, but an
intoIerable sense of shame kept him from
uttering them. Ho knew That his wife
was wholly ignorant OF the existence of
! ..Cortes" Gerald, in his absolute mod
| esty had told no one of the work And
! vet Lawrence felt what his wife's horror
would be il she learned the act which he
now really meditated.
81 must lie to her." he thought after
ward, while seated in the seclusion Of his
library. "Imust tell her that i have com
posed this poem ia secret, and that have
| mt last determined TO give il 10 the world.
But how to begin, All, how ghastly will
such hypocrisy seem when employed to-
| ward herr"
He ut length resolved that he would
place "Cortes' in the hands of a pub
| Usher and not refer to il in the hearing
of his wife until the poem was printed,
bound and ready for the public. In this
| WAY he could rid himself of the torture
| entailed by preliminary falsehood. She
| would read his name on the title page
| when the book appeared, and II would
then, perhaps, be easier for him to deceive
I her concerning its origin. Meanwhile his
health grew feeble, he lost appetite, and
slept either in the most wretchedly fitful
way. or else dreamed for what seemed
| hours at time the most aGonizing
dreams. One night lie awoke with a ter
rible start, and found that he WAS stand
/ ing in his night dress beside the half
faded fire of his library He had risen in
J state of somnamb bulism and Travelled
several chambers to the desk il which
Gerald's poem had been placed.
| All through the following day this cir
| cumstance caused hiIa the keenes: mental
anxiety. He could i'll renemb ber the dream
from which he had awakened on finding
himself n sleep walker, but he had a vague
recollection that it somehow concerned an
injury which was being done to his dead
boy, and which he had been swayed by the
motive of averting-
The dream haunted him, and on the
evening of the next day, while he sat
within the library, an idea, abruptly born
Of it, seized upon his tormented mind
Why should he not in n certain manner
cleanse his conscience Of the darker Grim