Waterbury evening Democrat. [volume] (Waterbury, Conn.) 1887-1895, 1888-02-16

they ever escaped contamination from her
.sDrive faster!" he shouted to the coach.
man. Perhaps they had not seized her vet
and clasped their hideous iron bracelets about
her dimpled arms.
If he were there they would not dare tn
touch her, Would they dare burst in his gate
and break down his massive oaken doors
stride with their soiIed boots through his par.
lors and tear her from his very arms2 His
father created this very town, and the men
whom Philip Breton had befriended would
rush to his help. Who ever heard of a house
SO grand as his being invaded by loud voiced
ofIicers-of justice-they called it, to drag
wife from her homes Let them dare to do it.
Faster! Drive faster!"
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 bouquet OF roses. Bless his
gray head, he would not be making bouquets
for an outraged, plundered home.
"Whom are you cutting the roses forF'
How heavy his masters hand rested on his
shoulder.
''For the mistress, if you pleas, SIR"
SIS she within, thenP'
Cant you hear her playin', sirr'
Thank God for that gentle breeze that
brought the music to his ears. It 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 in at Bertha, his one
week wife. She wore no cloak or hat to
show she had soon to go, and her foot that
rested on the pedal was slippered; why nota
She had come to stay, night, morning, noon.
always. She had come to stay.
But a sudden change passed over his face.
That proud faced woman was a-they called
it q criminal, a 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 home7 She should never go outside; a cell,
for such as she. She would die. Was there
no pity in their iron laws! Tomorrow her
name would be heralded abroad Perhaps
her sweet face, almost too fair for kisses,
blazoned on the outside sheet of the lowest
picture papers, and the dregs of the great
cities would revel in it's insulting beauty
Poor girl, she was thinking she had a right
with him, that her ONE was in his arms,
perhaps dreaming of q 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 a false world. Her children-God
grant that she may never have them-ah,
the Law had bitter name for what their
children would be- He was the wealthiest
man IN 100 miles, and he could not give his
children 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 woman
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 wild waltz she was playing; lie bowed
his head in her lap.
"Why Philip, are you so tired?'
81 am weary unto death,' and his bent
form shook with agony and baff1ed 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 a lifetime to save her from the ull-
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
for Mrs. Ellingsworth's. Strangely enough,
as he sat at tea he had remembered the first
malevolent expression in Jane Ellingsworth's
face as his bride and he drove past that very
noon. 1t had changed so quickly to smiles
that he bad 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 bes Could it be she knew ALL that
while he was buying over the lawyer SO that
he should not use his terrible power, there
might be near at hand all enemy to the death,
who only toyed moment with her poisoned
arrow to shoot it when it would strike with
deadliest effect! Philip had parted with
Bertha as painfully as if he We're leaving her
to die, and he rode off he looked UP and
down the street as if danger lurkcd in every
shadow.
Ought he not to have told hers But what
good! She might enjoy few more days Of
calm The worst could not be worse tllun
such torture of fear and hourly dread as lie
suffered. She trusted him perfectly. and lie
believed he could fight best alone. He would
ward off every danger human brain could
foresee and wealth and strength and i!.re-
nuity oppose, and then, oh God, and them
But it could do no good to warn her. She
might autter in her terror straight into the
very jaws of destruction. AS for him, he
coull be cool and firm, though his heart was
consuming within him. And who knows:
the hair that held the sword over her head
might never snap, and at last, after many
years-what years Of agony they would be
to him-she might lie down at last in an
honored grave. No, he would not tell her.
Ii God in his mercy would permit him he
would thank him night and morning, and
carry the burden of hourly terror, for her
sake, alone.
The horse was not happy. His master had
no kind word for him after his absence, nor
one stroke for his glossy neck He sidled
sul,zily to and fro across the road and made
but very slow progress, till sharp blow of
tho hand that was used to pat him sent him
bounding in great leaps on his way, forgetful
OF everything except his own resentment.
When no reached Mr.. Ellingsworth's gate,
Philip w;.s sorry he had come SO fast, for he
had not thought yet how to conceal his mo-