The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1890-06-29

mot at ALL" said the doctor, brisxly
Don't you remember your illness IN Mill
street, The girl, Jess Armstrong, nursed
you; the girl who at erward gave herself up
for pushing poor Stephen Eyre through a
window. You lift the place rather sud-
denly, by the by. l don't know whether
you imagine that we doctors can live with
out our feesln
This was an adroit remark, for il
touched George on a tender side. He did
not like to think that he had left a man I'M
paid. He could not withstand the tempta-
ton of dischargiug his debt.
II believe remember. Yes. it was you
OF course. Did not pay youi l am sorry.
and will repair my omission at once, if you
will allow men
Better late than never" said the doctor
but you don't owe ms much-a couple of
guineas would settle the account. III send
it in if you will kindly give me your ad-
dress"
II will not trouble you," said George,
coldly.
He took out his pocketbook as he spoke.
You attended me with great care and
skill, and hope you will accept this note as
sign of my gratitude"
he held out a ten-pound note. But the
doctor drew back and shook his head.
do you want to purchase my silence9" he
said.
Your silence" George repeated fiercely.
what on earth do you mean, sire THERE'S
no occasion for you TO be silent about any
thing that | ever did in your presence. l
don't understand youp'
well, to speak plainly" said DR.. Price,
looking at him keonly, II suspect you of
being one George & stwood, well known in
this part Of the world"
"a dark suspicion CALCULATED George.
~ have no wish to deny my namen
"You wished to hide it when saw you
last,n
"For that" said George, n may have had
good reason; but the reason does not con-
Germ you in the very least"
The two men were now standing Just in
side the gate, as neither wished the CONVEX
Sation to be heard by casual passers-by; ;
but they had forgotten that once inside the
gates their movements and faces could De
seen from the windows of Lady Hexham's
orphanage. And at this moment Alice
Drew, who had seen the meeting, came hur-
rying out of her door, as If she wished to
interpose.
"Alics Drew said the doctor, loudly,
''come here and tell me this gentleman's
name"
at is Mr.. Eastwood" said Alice. little
timidly.
at is the man l attended in Mill street."
rejoined the doctor. 1.-THE man whom Jess
was nursing; the man whose name we never
knew. Did not say 50 all alongN
what If you didm said Eastwood,
sternly. What is it to meF'
THE girl. Jess Armstrong, accused her
self of murder. She was attached to
YOU
''She was my wife"
"More shame to you for treating her as
you did. | see the whole story now. al
ways said she accused herself In order to
screen somebody else. She was screening
you. You were with her in the empty
house, you murdered Stephen Eyre, you let
her bear your punishment, you mean cur,
you scoundrel-"
"Oh, stopl stopl" cried Alice, who saw an
| ominious movement of Georges arm.
She flung herself between the two men,
only just In time. In another second the
doctor would have been flung to the
| ground George was in white heat Of
rage; y. 49,.
else you are mad" he said, turning away
scornfully.
mo, I'm not mad, and I'm not lying"
said the doctor, sturdily. "You were de-
| lirious when l visited you. and you said q
good many queer things. Perhaps you
were delirious when you killed Stephen
Eyre; I can't say. But your wife-if she is
Lving-could say well enough. 1t would do
| well to ask her."
The jeering words were so loudly spoken
that Eastwood heard them even as he
walked rapidly away. The doctor would
have followed him had Alice Drew not held
him by the arm.
''How can you say such thingsT she
asked, reproachfully. "You know they
cannot possibly be true. You have no evil
| dence."
81 know I've not" he answered. "But
one finds out the truth without evidence
sometimes. II what I've said isn't true I'll
eat my hat"