Rock Island daily Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1886-1893, 1888-03-03
him Some fellows, now, would have just
CHAPTER XVIII

a changed man. The brick walls of his mill
looked strangely unfamiliar 10 him. Was hi
indeed the owner of themi Was that hi:
house set like castle on tho hill off TO til,
lefti 1t seemed impossible that any Of his
old acquaintance SHOULD recognize him, but
here somebody was shaking hands with him
"What, 30 soon away from your young
wifer'
Business muttered Philip, breaking away
from him impateuly. How the mans sim
ple blue eyes would start out Of their socket
if he guessed what the business had been
How he would regale his eager family with
the infamous story, and sleep more compla-
Gently that night for the sudden calamity
that had fallen on the rich mans home, while
he was safe and his home spotless.
Another acquaintance drew Philips hand
through his arm before he could reach his
carriage Something very confidential" he
whispered mysteriously.
Then Philip had bribed the greedy lawyer
TO keep a secret which he had already Toasted
the whole country on. He glanced around
him with a new, hunted look in his face He
fancied he saw a peculiar expression in the
eyes of the bystanders. Some of them APP
peared to avoid looking at him.
1T is this" Philip held his breath and
the man laughed at his humor. lone would
think you were scared to death. was only
going to say my wife and | want to call to-
morrow on your charming bride"
by all MEANS" Philip answered huskily,
and threw himself into his carriage He had
nothing to fear from this man at least; he
clearly enough had not heard the news.
People don't call OMIT was too terrible He
let down the carriage window for fresh air.
The village policeman stood by the roadside
talking to a stranger AS the carriage passed
they spoke of Breton, apparently, and
laughed. The man must be detective,
armed with the authority to break into his
home and carry away has wife. They would
shut her in the dock, crowded close by muir
derers and foul mouthed thieves. The court
house galleries would be packed with iufIians
to stare at her sweet, frightened face, and
her high bred friends would sit below and
look insolent disdan at her and wonder how
they ever escaped contamination from her.
Drive faster!n he shouted to the coach
man. Perhaps they had not seized her yet
and clasped their hideous iron bracelets about
her dimpled arms
If he were there they would not dare to
touch her. Would they dare burst in his gate
and break down his massive oaken doors,
stride with their soiled boots through his par
lors and tear her from his very armsf His
father created this very town, and the men
whom Philip Breton had befriended would
rush to his help. Who ever heard of house
SO grand as his being invaded by loud voiced
officers-of justice-they called it, to drag
wife from her homel Let them dare to do it.
"Fasterl Drive fasterw
The carriage rolled into his grounds and he
leaped out and looked about him He saw
no signs of disturbance yet His gardener
was cutting "A bouquet of roses. Bless his
gray head, he would not be making bouquets
for an outraged, plundered home.
Whom are you cutting the roses fort"
How heavy his masters hand rested on his
shoulder.
'For the mistress, if you please, sir"
as she within, thenp'
Cant you hear her playin', sirF'
Thank God for that gentle breeze that
brought the music to his ears. 1t was that
same familiar air from "Traviata," that she
had played the night he had left her for the
labor meeting, before the first shadow had
crossed her life. And she was safe yet.
He mounted the brown stone steps, and I'M
locked the door. He closed it very softly
after him and with noiseless step made his
way TO the drawing room. The door stood
half open; he looked i'll at Bertha, his one
week wife She wore no cloak or hat to
show she had soon to 60, and her foot that
rested on the pedal was slippered; why noti
She had come to stay, night, morning, noon,
always. She had come to stay.
But IA sudden change passed over his face.
That proud faced woman was a-they called
it criminal, felon, on whose soft white
shoulder any policeman in the state might
freely lay his rude hand She would look to
him, but he could not help her; he had under
taken to protect her, but he must stand back
with breaking heart while they dragged her
away. Could they not let him imprison her
at home' She should never go outside; a cell,
for such as she She would die Was there
no pity in their iron lawsl Tomorrow her
name would be heralded abroad. Perhaps
her sweet face, almost too fair for kisses,
bazoned on the outside sheet of the lowest
picture papers, and the dregs OF the great
cities would revel in its insulting beauty.
Poor girl, she was thinking she had right
with him, that her home was in his arms,
perhaps dreaming of household whose
queen she should be, of pretty, proud faced
boys and blue eyed daughters, who should
sometimes cluster about her knees She was
living in false world. Her children-God
grant that she may never have them--ah,
tho law had bitter name for what their
children would be. He was the wealthiest
man in 100 miles, and no could not give his
children a name. Her children; how he
could love them; but each young face in
turn must mantle with shame. And was
there nothing he could do for this womanl
She had given herself to him; all his VOWS
were upon him.
Bertha" She looked up and smiled on
his stricken face and played on.
He came up behind her She was his yet.
He bent down and kissed her warm white
neck beneath her red gold hair. The law
had not claimed her yet, and all the rites of
religion had made her his wife One moment |
he stood by her side; the next he fell upon his |
knees, and imprisoned the quick flying hands |
He felt he could not bear the music now, it |
was a wild waltz she was playing; he bowed |
his head in her lap
"Why Philip, are you SO tiredf' |
~ am weary unto DEATH" and his bent |
form shook with agony and baffled love.
Bertha's eyes rested calmly on his head for |
a moment then glanced at the music sheet on |
Its rack; not spark of emotion showed in |
their clear depths. The perfect shape of her |
mouth was not hurt by one disturbing culver |
Of the rare red lips; they did not curve down. |
ward in gentle tenderness, nor part in sweet |
pity. There was not one shade more of color |
in her fair cheeks for this trembling heart |
broken man whose whole soul seemed dis
solving in love and sacrifice who would have
suffered lifetime to save her from the I'm.
guessed fate which lowered fearfully above
her gold crowned head.
1t was two hours later that Philip saddled
and bridled Joe, the white horse, and set out
Tor Mrs Ellingsworth's. Strangely enough,
IS he sat at tea he had remembered the first
expression in Jane Ellingsworth's
face as his bride and he drove past that very
noon. 1t had changed SO quickly to smiles
hat he had doubted his eyes, but he trembled
At his memory of it now, and the piece Of
paper that had fluttered to her feet, what
could it bet Could it be she knew all; that
while he was buying over the lawyer so that
le should not use his terrible power, there
night be near at hand an enemy to the death,