Sacramento daily record-union., 1889-08-31

| Olu man
"This is private room," said Jac
sternly, anticipating his fathers outburst
You do not seem to be aware of it, my
friend"
| "a private room, is it ?" replied the Wis
itor, closing one eye with much enjoy
ment " A private room. and what then ?''
This much, that you are requested to
leave 1t ?"
"Ho hop replied the man; so you
would put me out of my daughters room.
would you-out of my daughters room
| dare say that you would like to do it.o
Then, with a sudden change to ferocity, he
added; "You. are Dragging above your
cards, young man. Dry up, do you hear?
Dry up"
And Jack did dry up, falling back
against the table with a white face and
trembling hands. The Archdeacon, even
in his own misery-misery which far
exceeded his presentiments-saw and
maryeled at his sons collapse. That
Jack, keen, practical, hard-headed Jack,
should be so completely overwhelmed by
collision with this creature, and so plainly
scared by his insinuations, infected the
| Archdeacon with kind of terror. Yet,
struggling against the feeling, he forced
himself to say, You are Mr.. Kent, pre-
sume?"
81 am, sir yours to command" swag-
gered the wretch.
''Then l may tell you that your
daughter" the Archdeacon continued, re-
suming something of his natural self
possession, 'was left in my charge by your
wife, and that l am here IN consequence of
that arrangement
'Gammon p' replied Mr.. Kent distinctly,
putting his tongue in his cheek. "Gam-
mon! Do you think that story will 60
down with me? Do you think it will 90
down with any one ?"
1T is the truth"
"All right; but look here, when did YOU
see my wife? On her deathbed. Once.
And before that-not for twenty wears.
Well, what do you make of it now? Why"
he exclaimed, with genuine admiration in
his tone, "you have the impudence of the
old one himself! Fie on you, sir Amt
you ashamed OF hanging about stage doors,
and following actresses home at your age?
But | know you. And your friends shall
know you. Archdeacon Yale of the Athe-
neum Club. You will hear more of thisF'
"You are an insolent fellow p cried the
clergyman. But the perspiration stood in
great beads upon his brow, and his quiver-
ing lips betrayed the agony of his soul as
he writhed under the mans coarse insinu-
ations. The awkwardness and improb-
ability of the tale he would have to tell in
his defense flashed across his mind while
the other was speaking. He saw how CO.
gently the silence he had maintained about
the matter wonld tell against him. He
pictured the nudge of one friend, the wink
of another, and his own crimsoning cheeks.
His sons unwonted silence, too, that
touched him home. Yet he tried to bear
himself as an innocent man he. struggled
to give back look for look. "You are a
madman and a scoundrel, besides being
drunk p' he said stoutly. '1f it were not
SO, or-or l were as young as my son
here"
II do not see him" said the man curtly.
"Jackp p' cried the Archdeacon, purple
with indignation. "Jack if you have
voice, speak to him, sir"
at won't DO" replied Mr.. Kent, shaking
his head. "Call him Charley and | might
believe you"
Charley" repeated the Archdeacon,
mechanically.
SAY, Charley-Charley Williams. Oh,
II have not been hanging about this house
for two days for nothing. He has been
here heaps of times What you two are
doing together beats me, ] confess. But / |
am certain af this, that | have caught YOU |
both-killed two birds with one stone, |
eh ?"
1t was the Archdeacon's turn to fall !
back, nerveless and aghast The light |
. hof ~, al, al,
so blinded him that every spark of his an !
Charles Williams? He sought in that |
some gleam of denial. But Jacks eyes |
only too strongly to confirm the insNlent |
charge. The shock was a severe one, tax
ing from him all thought of himself The I
why and wherefore of his presence there
could never be again questioned By any |
one. A real sorrow, a real trouble to be |
faced gave him courage. "Jack p he said
with sternness, I'VE had better go, from
here. Come with me. For you, sir" he |
continued proudly, turning to the actor,
"your suspicious are natural to you Moth |
ing | can say Will remove them. So be it.
They affect me not one whit. 1t is enough |
L
with an honorable purpose"
"Indeed," replied Mr.. Kent mockingly. |
'Indeed? And your son, Mr.. Charles Jack
Williams Yale, Archdeacon? No doubt
you will answer for him. as he has not got !
a word to say for himself? He, too, came
with honorable purpose, suppose? Oh
yes, of course we are all honorable men |"
For an instant the Archdeacon quailed.
He saw the pitfall dug before him. He
knew all that his answer would imply of |
disappointed hopes and a vain ambition. |
He recognized all that could be made of it |
by his listeners friend or foe, and he
blanched. But the cynical eye and sneer-
ing lip of the wretch confronting him re-
called him to himself. Nay, he seemed to
rise above himself, as he replied more
loudly and with naughty inflated nostrils,
"Yes, yes, sir; | viii answer for my son, |
too, as for myself! Twill answer for him
that he came here in all honor"
The man sneered still, but he knew |
better things if he did not ensue them,
and he stood aside with secret respect and |
let the two go unmolested.
"Sir," said Jack, when they had walked |
half way down the street in silence, which |
his father showed no sign of breaking,
''you are thinking more i'll of me than |
deserve"
'You gave false name" the Archdea-
con snarled.
''Not in sense-not willfully, | mean. |
| wrote little play some time ago, and, as
is usual for professional men, l submitted
it under a nom de plume. l was known as
Charles Williams at the theater, and 1
had no more idea of doing wrong when l
was introduced in that name to Grissel
than l have now
Il hope not" said the Archdeacon
grimly. He was not a man to 60 back
from an engagement. II trust not" he ad-
ded with a lofty bitterness "You may
hreak vnnr word To the GIRL if Won niease