Fort Worth gazette. [volume] (Fort Worth, Tex.) 1891-1898, 1891-05-17

turned TO MIN again
There is no forgiveness for. me in
| heayen.' she said. Shall there be none
| on earth' Not even a little, from you to
mei''
There is no question Of forgiveness be-
| tween you and me. You have not injured
me, but Israel K9fka. Judge for yourself
| which Of US two, he or 1, has anything TO
| forgive. am today what was yesterday,
| and may De tomorrow. He lies there. dying
| OF his love for,you, if ever man died for
| love. And, as though that were not enough,
| you have tortured hirl-weil, l will not
| speak OF it. But that is all. l know moth
| ing Of the deeds. or intentions, of which
| you accuse yourself. You are tired, over
wrought, worn out with all this-what
| shall saw It is natural enough, / sup
pose"
You say there is no question OF forgive
ness" she said, inter1Upting him, but
| speaking more calmly. What is il, then!
| What is the real question. If you have
| nothing 10 forgive, why can we not be
| friends, as We were before?'
There is something besides that needed.
! II Is not enough that OF two people neither
| should have injured the other. You have
broken NEUTRALITY-SUSPICIOUS. somethingI
| cannot mend IT, [ wish l could
You wish you couI6?n she repeated,
| earnestly.
j wish that the thing had not been done.
| wish that had not seen what l SAW to-
| day. We should be where we were this
morning-and he, perhaps, would not be
| here
1T must have come some day" Unorna
said. He must have seen that loved
| that | loved you. Is there any use in not
| speaking plainly now. Then at some other
| time, in some other place, he would have
done what ne did, and l would have been
| angry and cruel-for it is my nature to be
cruel when l am angry, and 10 be angry
easily, at that. Men talk so easily of self
| control, and self-command ana dignity and
seif-respectl They have not loyed-that IS
all. am not angry now, nor cruel. am
sorry for what l did, and l would undo it, if
| deeds were knots and wishes deeds. am
sorry, beyond all words 10 tell you. How
poor 1t sounds, now that ] have said it!
You do not even believe me-"
You are wrong. l know that you are in
earnest
How do you know" she asked bitterly.
''Haye never lied to you, If you believed
me, you would forgive me. If you fOr2ave
me, your friendship would come back.
can not even swear to you that am telling
the truth. Heaven would not be my wit
ness now If told thousand truths, each
tTuer than the last"
Il have nothing to forgive" the Wan
derer said, almost YEARLY. II have told
you so, you have not injured me, but him.
But if it meant whole world to me-
no, for am nothing TO you-but if it cost
you nothing but the little breath that can
carry the three wordsworth you say it,
Is it much to say! Is it like saying, love
you, or, honor you, respect you, It is so
little, and would mean so much.''
ITO me it can mean nothing, unless you
ask me TO forgive you deeds Of which l
know nothing. And then it means still less
to me-"
VIII you say it, Only say the three
words once"
quietly. 1t cost him nothing, and, to him.
meant less.
Cnorna bent her head and was silent. 1t
was something TO have heard him say it,
though he could not guess the least Of the
sins which she made it include. She her
self hardly knew why she had SO insisted.
Perhaps it was only the longing to hear
words kind in themselves, If not in tone,
not in his meaning OF them. Possibly, too,
she felt dim presumption Of her coming
end, and would take with her that in
tgitesimal grain of pardon to the state in
which she hoped for no other forgiveness.
1T was good OF you to say it," she said
at last.
A long silence followed, curing which the
thoughts of each went their OWN way.
Suddenly Israel haika stirred in his sleep.
The Wanderer went quickly forward and
knelt down beside him and arranged the
silllen pillow as best he could. Unorna was
on the other side almost as soon. With a
tenderness of expression and touch which
nothing can describe, she moved the Sleep
ing head into comfortable position and
smoothed the cushion and drew up the furs
disturbed by the nervous hands. The Wan
derer let her have her way When she had
finished their eyes met. He could not tell
whether she was asking his approval or a
word of encouragement, but he withheld
neither.
You are very gentle with him. He
would thank you if he could
Did you not tell ME to DO kind to him."
she said. Il am keeping my word. But ne
would not thank me, He would kill me if
he were awake
The Wanderer shook his head.
''He was i'll and mad with PAIN he an
swered. He did not know what he was
doing. When he wakes it will be differ
Unorna rose, and the Wanderer followed
you cannot believe that I care" she
said, as she resumed her seat. He is not
you. My soul would not be the nearer to
peace for q word Of his"
For long time she sat quite still, her
hands lying idly i'll her lap, her head bent
YEARLY as though she bore heavy burden.
Can YOU not restl' the Wanderer asked
at length. 81 can watch alone"
mo. l can not rest. l shall never rest
again.
The words came slowly, as though spoken
to herself.
'sDo you bid me go2" she asked after
time, looking up and seeing his eyes fixed
on her.
'Bid you go2 In your own housed" The
tone was one of ordinary courtesy. Unorna
smiled sadly.
Il would rather you struck me than that
you speak to me like that?' she exclaimed.
You have no need of such civil forbearance
with me. If you bid me go, will go. If
speak frankly. Say which you would pre-
fer
Then stay" said the Wauderer simply.
no BE CoNTINUED.)