The morning call., 1891-06-14
CHAPTER III.

Ao Tic uOuI ClOSeu U6 NIl6eleu ABOUT, Dut
ere he had taken step pitched forward,
falling full length and lifeiess to the floor
CHAPTER III.
Like long-caged animal suddenly set
free, BanVille's liberty at first astnunded
him. He dared not walk abroad. He sat
whole hours. nay, whole days thinking of
little George, listening for his voice, his
football. Twenty times day he walked to
the hall door and opened it tn see if the
child was not there. Animals will return TO
their home if the opportunity is given them,
why shouldn't child have as much instinct
as theyp
For few weeks there came now and then
a slight break in this awful suffering, re-
lief for which he was indebted TO his nota-
rvs visits, for BanYille made haste TO pro-
vide for Henrietta's support His very soul
revolted at the thought of public scandal
Like criminal resuScitated after execu-
ton, he felt that 1t was necessary that he
should continue TO be dead TO the world,
and by making this provision for his wife
he put forever the seal OF silence upon the
past. Now. however arose this real specter
of this murder Of human happiness but not
a grnning and CHASTITY phantom, but a
sweet and gracious spTite, blue-eyed and
golden haired, with tiny dimpled bands out
stretched and soft, Satiny cheeks pulled with
merry laughter. George, little George,
followed tho wretched man day and night
at home and abroad, alone aud in the midst
of the toiling struggling multitude, in the
silence of the midnight hour and in the
MONDAY roar of the crowded streets. There
was no escape for BanVillr, not even the
Stupor of drunkenness or the delirium OF in
tOXication could shut cut the sweet, sweet
vision.
At last Banville's mind was made up.
There was nothing left him but suicide-not
the lesser suicide of the body, but the
greater and more appalling sui ide of the
mind, the soul. the heart! Maurice Ban
vile went to work with the most perfect
delberati0n. lie moved into a humble
quarter of the city, took cheap lodgings,
gave up friends and acquaintances, cast
aside all Injuries aud reinements of life,
dressed like one of the people, lived with
them, ate with them, drank with them,
= broke with the world and with It's messen-
gers, books and journals, and rarely
walked abroad, save In the night. In
one shOrt year Banyille was as dead to
the world as if the vaults Of Pere Ia ChaiSe
held his earthly remains. 1t is not need
full for him TO dread recognition on the part
of Henrietta or LlmOuSin, so had his sorrow
shrunken and warped his features, SO had
mental suffering lined and scanned his once
soft, round face. By the end Of the second
year he had unlearned the trick OF the
features designated as smiling. As Tor that
noisy and inarliculate speech OF merrlment
known as laughter he. had never laughed
Five long, weary years Of this awful
munotOny this vacant stare without sight
had taught BanYille the secret OF the der
ViSh--a living death.
But fate had not yet given her consent for
him to 90 in peace for he was still 10 come
twice face to face with mother and child be-
fore they parted forever. The first meeting
was on noisy thoronghfare. A woman's
figure had attracted Banyille's attention. 1t
seemed so strangely familiar to him.
lad, straight and comedy, walked by her
side There was no need of a second look
TO tell him who they were. What should he
do-turn and fee? Impossible! He was
seized with an Irresistible yearnng TO look
upon the boys face; to gaze into his eyes
perhaps
The next instant he had gently brushed
against the boy, who looked wondtrlngly
up. That look smote Banville's eyes like a
gorgon horror. He turned away with the
quick low cry OF terror which man emtS
when by chance he places his warm hand
on a cold. moving reptile in the dark. He
kept on running until he had reached the
drinking place which he was wont TO fire.
quent. and had sunk pale and speeches.
into his customary seat.
1t was nearly half year before he re-
covered from the shock. During this time
he had treInbled between death and loss OF
reason. His only friend, the keeper of the
tap-room, glanced nervOusly every evening
at Banville's chair to see If 1t was occupied
But when the crisis had finally passed
and BanYile resumed his old habits thb
years seemed to go faster and he reJoced 10
see how rapidly he was growing OLD, taking
on the bend and shutting gait of the man of
sixty. He was not little pleased to find
one day that it WAS now twenty years since
he had broken away from the world, twenty
long years since be had committed suicide
of the heart.
Alarmed by Banyille's failing health the
IF 40 IN had GaV
suadrd him to make little trip to the Ter
race of St German, and while drinking a
glass of beer at table in one OF the sum-
mer houses womans voice reached him
from the adjoining corner.
George, you carve the fowl"
Yes. mother" replied another voice.
Banville felt strange feeling creep over
him. but to his great surprise 1t had no
pang it was armed with no sting, IL was a
dull, blunt desire TO look upon these fellow
creatures whose motions now seemed as
fantastic to him as those OF dancers when
the music doesn't reach the spectator.
George had grown TO manhood. His face
was covered with soft, dOwny beard of
UNEQUAL thickness. He was fashionably
aud nattily dressed, with high hat and
white waistcoat, and an eye-glasS dangled
from cord around his neck. Banville
watched his movements with mingled won
der and curiosity.
ITS my son. George" he whispered. with
an impish chuckle.
Limousins back, genuine old mans
back, was turned to Banville. The friend
OF the family was chewing cOntentedly upon
the cold fowl.
After he had watched them for several
moments a sudden temptation came upon
him. 1t was to revenge himself; to pay
them back little for all the suffering they
had caused him. He called for brandy, and.
as he sat slipping it, the thought of revenge
became sweeter and sweeter, and Maurice
Banyile heard himself laugh for the first
time in twenty years.
The trio now arose and walked out upon
the terrace. BanVille followed them.
Watching his opportunity, he suddenly
turned ana laced them.
"Here am! You didn't expect me, did
you? 2" he blnrted out.
The three amusement seekers glanced ner-
vously at the man, taking him for Iunatic.
''0h, look at me and you'll recognize me,
[ think! My name is Banvil!e, Maurice
Banylle. You didn't expect me, did you
You thought 1t was ali over. that you would
never see me. Ha, ha! Come now, | want
certain things explained"
"Oh, my God" murmured Henrietta,
hiding her face with her hands.
But George advanced boldly and seized
Banville by the collar.
Are you crazy ?" he cried ont indignant
ly. g Get out Of our way. or III give you q
drubbng What do you want.?"
''What do | want?' repeated Banville,
with a fiendish chuckle, Il want to tell you
who these people are ~
AT these words George gave his man an
o CRY jerk, and raised his hand to strike him.
Let go of me-" Kissed Banyile, strug-
Cling TO free himself. Pm your father
Look for yourself Don't you see that they
know me ?"
With dropping jaw and pitiful look
George released his hold and turned toward
his mother. Banvile took a step forward
Tell him who | am, you! Tell him l
must be his father since his name is George
Banville. since you are my wife, since you
all three live on my money, on the allowance
| made you after driving you out of my
house. Tell this young man who am and
tell him what you are. Tell my son all these
things. Ha, ha, Ia, hap and Banville
turned and walked away, laughing and