Lewiston teller. [volume] (Lewiston, North Idaho) 1878-1900, 1891-09-17
CHAPTER ".
AT ALI. COST, SLEEP!

AT ALL COST, SLEEP!
Dead. Before ] kneeled beside him and,
after unbuttoning his coat, laid my hand on
his breast, knew the man was dead. Be-
fore l turned the lantern on his white face
l knew who the man was. Sir Mervyn Fer
rand had paid for his sin with his life! 1t
needed little professional skill to determine
the cause of his death. A bullet fired. it
seemed to me, at close quarters had passed
absolutely through the heart. lie must
have fallen without moan. Killed. knew
by the hand of the woman he had wrongcd
1t could not be true! 1t should not be true!
Yet shudLered as | remembered the pas
sion she had thrown into those words, Basil,
did you ever hate a manT | gave low cry
of anguish as | remembered how l had
hurled from me the pistol she had lct fall
the very weapon which had done the dread
ful deed.
Killed by Philippa! Not ina sudden burst
Of uncomfortable passion, but with deliber-
ate intent. She must have gone armed to
meet him. She must have shot him through
the heart; must have seen him fall. Then,
only then, the horrible deed which she had
wrought must have been fully realized!
Then she had turned and fed from the spot
In frenzy Oh, my poor girl my poor giyl!
Utterly bewildered by my anguish, rose
from my knees and stood for while beside
the corpse. 1t was in that moment learn
ID how much l really loved the woman who
had done this thing Over all my grief and
horror this love rose paramount. At all cost
must save her-Save her from the hands
of justice; save her from the fierce elements
which her tender frame was even at this
moment Drawing. Right or wrong. she was
the woman loved; and sworc | would
save her from the consequences of her crime,
cven-Heaven help me!-if the accusation,
when made, must fall upon my shoulders.
Yet 1t was not the beginning of any
scheme to evade justice which indr ccd me
to raise the dead body and bear it to the
side of the road, where | placed it under the
low bank on which the hedge grew. II was
the reverence which one pays to death made
me do this. | could not leave the poor
wretch lying in the very middle Of the high
way, for the first passel-by to stumble
against. Tomorrow he would, OF course,
be found. Tomorrow the hue and cry
would be out! Tomorrow Philippa, my
Pnilippa. would Oh, heavens! never,
never, never!
So laid what WAS left of SIR Mervyn Fer
rand feVtrentially BY the side OF tine lonely
road. even tried to close his classy eyes,
kerchief Then, with heart holding fear
and anguish enough for a If time, turned
and went in search of the poor unhappy
girl.
Where should | seek her? Who knew
what her remorse may hay, urgci her to
do? Who knew whittier her horror may
have driven her! 1t needs hu' to find Philip
pa lifeless on the road to complete the
heaviest tale of grief which cin be eXactcd
from one man in one short night. | cl,Ech-
ed my teeth and rushed on.
had the road all to myself. No one was
abroad In such weather. Indeed, few per-
sons were seen at night in any weather in
this lonely plrt of the country. ! made
straight for my own house. The dismal
thought came to mo, that unless Philippe
kept the 70 id she was lost to me forever. Ii
she strayed to the right or to the left, how
on such night could po siblv find her.
My one hope was that she would 60 straight
to my cottage; so thlther made the best Of
my way. If she had not arrived, must ge,
what as ;i>tance l could, and seek for
her in the fields to the right and left of the
road. 1t was 4 dreayy comfort to remember
that all the ponds and spaces Of wa.er were
frozen six inches thick.
hesta,ed q moment when re ,chcd her
late residence. Should inqur, if she had
returned thither? No; when morning re-
vealed the ghast,y event of the night. my
having done so would awake suspicion. lie,
me first 90 home.
Home ut last. In a moment | shall know
the worst. | opened the side of my lantern
which was still alight. and threw the rayS
Oh the path which led to my door. My heart
gave great bound of thankfuness. There
on the snow, not yet obliterated by more re-
cant flakes, were the prints of a small foot,
Philippa, as prayed but scarcely dared tC
hope she might, had come straight to my
house.
Ny man opened the door for me. 1t was
well l had seen these footprints, as my
knowledge of Philippians arrival enabled me-
to assume natural air.
MY sister has cJme?" I asked.
Yes, sir; about quarter OF an hour ago. '
I'VE missed each other on the road
What n nigM.' l said, throwing off my
snow-covered coat.
Where is she now?' l asked.
in the sittingroem, sir" Then, lower
Ing his voice, Wi liam added. "She seemed
just about in a tantrum when she found yo,
weren't at home. leXpect we shall find hel
hard lady to please"
+ "iiaH III spitc VI MS sto'iuits, occasioIf
ally ventured upon some liberty when adj
dressing me.
! His words greatly surprised me. force,
myself to make some laughing rejoinder
then turned the handle of the door an,
entered the room in which Phiiippa hat
taken refuge.
Oh, how my heartt obbed! What would
she say to me? What could ], fresh from
that dreadful scene, say to her? Would sh,
excuse or pailiate, would she simply con
fess or boldly justify, her crime? Wouls