The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1889-03-27

| lowed innocently. In that case how had he
committed himself by bis outbreak-how
indeed "Jack," he said sweetly, ~ beg
! your pardon. / beg your pardon, Jack
! see / was mistaken. Do not go, my boy,
until have explained to you why am
here. 1t is not, perhaps" he went on,
smiling wretched smile at the pretty
faces round him, ''quite the place in which
you would expect to find me-"
ut is certainly not the place in which l
did expect to find you" said Jack bluntly.
| And he looked about,h him also in a dazed
fashion, as if the archdeacon and the pho
tographs were not a conjunction for which
he was prepared.
! "No, no." assented the archdeacon.
| wincing, however. "But it is the simplest
! piece of business in the world which has
! brought me here" And he recalled to
his sons memory their talk at the club.
"Ah, understand" said Jack, as if he
! did, too. "You have come about your
friends business"
The archdeacon could not hide spasrn.
"Well, not precisely. To tell you the
truth, there never was a friend. Jack.
But" he went on hurriedly, holding up a
hand of dignifed protest, for Jack had
looked at him queerly, very queerly, 'you
know me too well to doubt me, l hope,
when / say there IS no ground for doubt ?"
The sons keen ewes met the fathers for
an instant, and then q rare smile softened
/ them as the mems hands met. 81 do, sir
You may be sure OF that" he said
brightly.
The archdeacon cleared his throat.
Thank you." he said. "Now, think you
will understand the position. Miss Kent,
/ the young lady in question, lives here, and
l have called to-day TO see her by appoint
ment"
'The dickens you haSel 1t is like your
impudencep cried some one-some one
| behind them.
Both men swung round at the Interrupt
ton. In the doorway, holding the door
| open with one hand, while with the other
/ splayed against the wall he balanced him
self on his feet, stood smart-looking man.
"The dickens you havei" this gentleman
repeated, leering on the two most un-
pleasantly. $50 that is your game, is it?
! Amt you ashamed of yourself?" he con-
timed, addressing himself particularly to
| the shuddering archdeacon-and how far
away seemed Winnall and the lavender,
and the calm delights of Sudbury at that
moment l-"ain't you ashamed ofyourself,
| old man?"
''This is a private room," said Jack
sternly, anticipating his fathers outburst.
"You do not seem to be awere OF it, my
! friend"
"a private room, is it?" replied the
visitor, closing one eye with much enjoy
ment "a private room, and what
| then?"
''This much, that you are requested to
leave it."
'Ho, ho!" replied the man; $50 you
would put me out of my daughters room.
would you-out of my daughters room
day say that you would like to do it. !"
! 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 , white face and
! trembling hands. TheSifchdeacon, even
In his own misery-misery which far ex-
ceeded his presentiments-saw and mar
We led 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 arch
deacon with a kind of terror. Yet, strug-
/ Cling against the feeling, he forced himself
to say, "You are Mr.. Kent, l presume ?"
81 am, sir; yours to command" swag-
gered the wretch.
Then may tell you that your daugh-
| ter" the archdeacon continued, resuming
/ something of his natural self-pOssession,
''was lett in my charge by your wife, and
! that am here in consequence of that ar
rangement"
"Gammon!" replied Mr.. Kent distinct
", putting his tongue in his cheek. Cam
mon Do you think that story will 90
down with me? Do you think it will 20
down with anyone?'
ut is the truth"
"All right; but look here, when did you
see my wifeP On her deathbed. Once.
And before that-not for twenty years.
Well, what do you make of it now2
| Why" he exclaimed, with genuine adj
miration in his tone, "you have the lmpu-
dence of the old one himselfl Fie on
you, sir Amt you ashamed of hanging
about stage doors and following actresses
home at your age? But l know you.
And your friends shall know you. Arch
deacon Hale OF the Atheneum club. You
will hear more of thisl"
"You are an insolent fellow" cried the
clergyman. But the perspiration stood in
great beads upon his brow, and his
| quivering lips betrayed the agony of
his soul as he writhed under
the mans coarse insinuatiOns.
| The awkwardness and improbability
! OF the tale he would have to tell in his de-
fense flashed across his mind while the
other was speaking. He saw how cogently
the silence he had maintained about the
matter would tell against him. He pict-
ured 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!' he said stoutly. "If it were not
so, or--or | were as young as my son
| here"
"I do not see him." said the man curtly.
"Jackp cried TIE archdeacon, purple
with Indignation. "Jackl il you have a
voice, speak to him, sir !"
''It won't do" replied Mr.. Kent, shak-
ing his head. "Call him Charley and 1
might believe you"
"Charley% repeated the archdeacon
mechanically.
GAY, Charley-Charley Williams. Oh,
l know him too," with vulgar triumph.
al have not been hanging about this
house for two days for nothing. He has
been here heaps of timesl What you two
are doing together beats me. | confess.
But | am certain of this, that l have
caught you both-killed two birds with
one stone, eh2"