Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1889-02-24
CHAPTER III.

A year had elapsed, ana the aDnlyer-
sary of that even,tul night was arrived.
1t was as bitter and boisterous as its pre-
decessor. The wind screamed 6ercely
through the deserted courts and desolate
gardens of the Temple; the snow flew
wildly about in scattered fakes the
moons face was distorted by the angry
clouds which swept continually across 1t.
All nature seemed to be venting long
pent-up wrath upon a sinful world.
Heaven help those who had no shelter
for their heads that night
Again Mr.. Sergeant Stronge sat alone
in his old chambers in Kings Bench
Walk again everything about him be-
spoke ease and luxury. The fire danced
and sparkled on the hearth the lamp
shed its soft light over the carpeted
floor; the heavy curtains hid every
token OF the cold and misery without
But MIR Sergeant Stronge was no longer
the self-satisfied, prosperous gentleman
be was year ago. tven as he sat there
in the subdued light of the shaded lamp
one could have seen care, dlssppolnt-
ment, and discomfort in every line of his
stern. worn face.
In his hand was letter, which he had
read and read again. 1t was from Char
lie his son, on whom he had looked
with such pride, and from whom he had
expected such great things only year
ago.
dear father" it ran, "this is the an
niversary of that morning when | com
mitted the sin against you for which it
seems th,re is no forgiveness. Since
You then disowned me the sorrow and
suffering have gone through no tongue
can tell. My miserles have now reached
climax. Foodless myself for days, my
hapless wife and innocent child are now
languishing for want OF bread. | can
not and will not bear 1t any longer.
81 do not ask for your forgiveness for
mysslf-I know it would be useless to
do so but what do ask and demand
is that you shall save my poor wife and
child from starvation. II | cannot get
that from your love | will wiring it from
your shame.
"lf do not receive any reply to this
to-day, tonight / will call at Kings
Bench Walk. Then if you still refuse
me, by the Heaven that will Judge US
both, neither you nor any Other man
shall ever again have chance of grant
ing or refusing me anything For Hea-
vens sake, father, do not drive your
own child to a desperate death. Your
unfortunate son, CHARLIE.
AS the old lawyer read this letter for
the twentieth time he crushed it up in
his hand and flung it into the waste
basket.
The fool |" he said, bitterly; "he
thinks to intimidate me by his threats
Mel He should have known me better
before this. Fear OF anything man can
do never yet turned me from my path.
Even if l thought him capable of doing
as he SAYS, what do care ? But if he
does not know noe. know him. lie give
up his precious life Pshawl The brag
CART. the weakling-he was always fond
OF acting"
Striving to work up his rage and con.
tempt, Sergeant Stronge rose TO his feet
and walked up and down the room
"And he'll come here tonight, will
be 2" he said, as he walked. 81 think
he should be tired OF that trick by this
time how many times has he shocked
at my door here and in Pump Court.
and what has he ever gained but insults
and rebuils? What pitifnl creature he
isl Always winning that he is starving.
and that this scullery maid aud her brat
are starving, too Why. if he were
more OF man might pity him, but
pah Ibis rpiritlessness disgusts me as
much as his marriage. If | had been in
Lis shoes, would have begged and
sniyelled? No, never | should have
worked worked like the man an
and made my way in the world without
human beings aid. That's what | did
do, and see what am now, and what
oh. Heaven, what should have made
him II he would only have let me /"
And the old lawyer flung himself with
sob into his chair and groaned over
the ruin Of bis hopes, the baking Of his
LIES ambition
de sat there silently for long time
gazing into the fire and thinking over
again and again the things that might
have bssn and Tire things thai we're.