Waterbury evening Democrat., 1890-09-04
CHAPTER vnI.-coNr,NUrp.


 Left alone with the unconscious man, March stopped and rolled him entirely over. He had been lying face down, ward, his cheek to the sward; one arm was by his side, the other was thrown in natural position above his head His pulSe was almost normal, although somewhat sluggish; his respiration heavy, but not stertor0us; his com. plexion was not sanguine, His breath, and, March feared, his whole body reeked of opium. March shook him gently. He slept on. With a disgust, full shiver he forced himself to pass an arm under his head and lift 1t to his knee. There was no change in tho limp lethargy The young man laid him down, and, rising, stood of and looked at tho pitia, ble wreck. Hester's frenEied tirade had disabused the listeners mind of the sus picion of suicide. He could no longer doubt that here was the unraveling Of tho complex design that had veXed bis heart and head. The popular preacher was not the first of brilliant parts and nigh position who had fallen a victim to debasing and insidious habit, but his skill and effrontery in concealing the truth were remarkable. Yet-might not March have divined the nature of the mystery before this revelation? The peculiar brilliancy of the deep-set eyes, his variable spirits; his fluent and. at times, cratic speech; the very charac acter of his pulpit eloquence-might have betrayed him to an expert. His wife's nervous vigilance and eager assi- duity of deyotion-above all, the episode of the midnight toilers, and tue con flicting stories of the need of that toil- finally-and he recalled 1t with burst ing heart-Hetty's declaration to her lover that there were insurmountable obstacles to their union-were as clear as daylight now. The sudden illness of that memorable Saturday night was | stupor like that which now chained the slave of appetite to the earth.
 How often and with what excess of | anguish the revolting scene had been enacted only the two unhappy sisters l knew, unless the still more hapless daughter were in the secret. Her vail: 70, God of mercylit has come at lastv' was key to depths of suspenseful endur- ance and labyrinths of unavailing decep- | tion.
 UQavailing, for the instant of detec- tion was the beginning of the end. The man was ruined beyond redemption. A whisper of his inf1rmity would be the loss of place, reputation and livelihood, and his innocent family would go down quick into the pit with him. This was the vision of impending gloom that had disturbed what should be sunny deeps | in the sweetest eyes in the world to him. This was the almost certain pros. pect that made her write: ''I can never be more than your friendp'
 The Gilchrist was clean, honest blood. Hetty testified her appreciation Q. this truth by refusing to marry him. He could think how his mother would look when she heard the story and how Fair hill gossip would gloat over the ''newest thing in clerical scandalsl''
 Why should 1t be made public? Why should he not help to keep 1t quiet in- stead of pulling down ruin upon the helpless and unoffending9 uetty had written: "In mercy to the innocent" " He seemed to hear her say it now, in his ear.
 A faint melodious chime just vibrated through tho sultry air. The fine bell on the "old First" had struck the half hour. The church in which he was baptized; the church of his mothers love and prayersi At thought of the pulpit desecrated by this telloY's ieeL q rush Of indignant contempt surgod uT to his lips.
 "Sacrilegious dogr' be muttered touching the motionless heap at his foot
 Homer shambled back out of breath He had brought lantern.
 "Now-it's powerful shady under thC treesr' he 'gailied to narcb's rcmarh that the moon gave all tho light they required. An ther's somethin come ' tnr v,na aa want far saatu