Waterbury evening Democrat., 1889-05-09
Richard Pardon Peril.
BY B. L. FAPIEoN.

| He continued to laugh for some time. It struck me on the following morning that he cast strange. compassionate glances at me- | "I have received two letters" he said; "one from my charming wife, the other from my detective. My wife will be here this evening. and, as suspected, her lover is with her. Both the letters are addressed to me at the postofflce; she does not know whore am stopping. She herself will put up at q little inn, the name of which she gives me in her letter. It is called the Bull and Mouth. um going to reconnoiter It." | We walked together to the street in which it was situated, fingered a moment or two outside. and then returned to our own hotel. We should have remained in the open, had storm of rain not come on, which rendered 1t advisable that We should take shelter under a roof. Then said Stanmore, with another of those compassionate glances which had al- ready observed
 "Gaskell old man, I am going to show you something: but you must first give me promise"
 "What promise2" asked. | "That when you see what have to show you, and when you hear the explanation shall give, you will not run away from me-"
 "I give you the promise" I said; "but cannot stay with you over tomorrow night" 1 "Where are you going to, then2"
 "I do not know."
 Well, well," he said as though loath to press mo, fearing that I might retract my promise; "I must be content. But hope we shall meet again. There is a singular at- traction in you, Gaskell, for which cannot account. You promise me honorably3''
 'Yes, honorably."
 1 GAS u gentleman2" | made Il pitiful motion with my hands; could not help it. There was so much true sincerity and feeling in his voice that 1t touched my heart. could not, I could not restrain the little sob of thankfulness which burst from me. Was 1t possible that I, murderer, thief, could still win the re- spect of men2 Turned from him, ashamed that he should witness my agitation, and partly afraid that it might betray me. | "As a gentleman" he repeated.
 of you will have it so."I said, 'as gen. | tleman."
 "I hold you to it," he said.
 Then he took his sketch-book from his pocket, and, detaching leaf, handed 1t to me. stared at the drawing in dumb amaze ment
 It represented bedroom, the bedroom he and had occupied on the preceding night. On the table was'a lighted candle, and near it stood man, apparently just risen from | his bed. In his right hand were two articles, upon which he was gazing with an expression of unutterable woe and despair upon his face.
 The man was myself. The articles was gazing on were the ring and the cord.
 "It is yourself you see," said Stanmore.
 "I see," muttered.
 "Do you rememberf" he asked.
 "No."
 | "It occurred last night at three o'clock by my watch. I was awake, thinking of my wife, amused at the surprise had in store for her. A movement from the part of the room in which you slept attracted my atten- l tion. You rose from your bed, struck a match and lit the candle. called, and asked you whether you were unwell; you did not answer. You searched your pockets, and produced therefrom @ diamond ring and piece of string. You approached the candle, and looked down upon them, with just that expression upon your face have caught so faithfully. I called to you again. and again you did not answer. Then I rose, got my sketch-book, and made the drawing. It ! Is seldom an artist has the chance of catching such an expression as that. When the sketch was finished. came quite close to you and looked at the ring and the piece of string. It was @ common strong piece of cord, but the ring startled me, the diamond in 1t being of such extraordinary brilliancy. It is strange' thinks l, that Friend Gaskeh works as ahop- picker and lives on bread and water'-I know AL G-l L could sell or pledge for good many pounds.' You were fast asleep, Gaskell. and I was more than ever convinced that you are the hero of some strange story. For at least a quarter of an hour you stood in the attitude in which you are depicted then you put out the candle |, in the dark you replaced the articles in your pocket, and heard you creep into bed, That is all,"
 It was sufficient. Was it tfated that myself should be compelled by memorable justice to supply evidence of my guiltP Not for my life did I care but the honor and good nameof my wife and daughter were in my keeping, and those must protect so long as 1t lay in my power.
 "Stanmore." said, "release me from my promise. must 50 away at onoe--at once.'
 "You are afraid of me-"
 II am. Better for me never to speak to mortal man again."
 Look again at the sketch. Gaskell. Ex. anime 1t we'll"
 obeyed him, but saw nothing in 1t that had not seen before.
 II am skilled in the nuances of expression he continued. Frivolous person as am, I claim to be subtle in my art. There is de- srair in the face of this drawing. but, Cas- keu, it is not the despair of guilt 1t is the de- spair of innocence. I decline to release you from your promise. You remain with me at least till tomorrow night. What do you want~
 This question was addressed to waiter, who had entered the room without knocking
 "A gentleman wishes to see you immedi- ately, sir"
 "Let him come in."
 The waiter, departing, returned, ushering