The Seattle post-intelligencer. [volume] (Seattle, Wash. Terr. [Wash.]) 1888-1914, 1891-01-25

affected Sylvan. Gerald had long de-
lighted TO think of his father as the intel
Iectual rebel he was darkly limited to have
been. At Cambridge the almost boyish
asplrant for future medical excellence had
drawn joyously on those wells of egotism
which youth finds furnished with such
easy buckets and smooth-running cord
age, and had told himself that his own
love for scientific inquiry sprang wholly
from the scope and acumen of that van-
ished paternal mind But now, at Syl-
vans bidding, to look upon Egbert May
nard In the light of a mere thaumaturgist,
dabbler in those follies of pseudo-chem-
istry which science frowned down as fiimsy
sensationalism-th point of regard
brought with it disappointment chill and
keen.
changed. Sylvan, throughout his nara
ton, had spoken as if all the old morbid
forces of his morality" were now in a
dismal state of rout. 'Iim willing to
grant," he said, "that I've acted with fatal
self-trust. | deceived Lucia in the burning
of that counterfeit paper because it seemed
to me that by so doing | might scar away
the sinful longings that clutched her soul.
But now, seeing the results of my act, II
am terribly doubtful of its righteousness
Perhaps, after all, the Divine will meant
that this secret our father gave me to dis
close should be published for the seeming
i'll of man, as q temptation and hence a
test. Between that will and its holy OBJ
ject perhaps | have insolently intruded my
own personal disfavor."
Here Gerald gave q heeting smile that
was instinct with melancholy derision.
Good heavens he said, '.you can't
think that father has really found this
vital principle of which you tell me that
his curious message breathes?"
II don't know, don't know" came the
forlorn answer. Il was as skeptical as
yourself, Gerald, little while ago. /
chiefly thought of his motive in trying to
seek such interference with the sacred laws
of life and death. Now that Lucia has
left me and | am so horribly bereaved by
her abandonment, | feel lik resignIng all
claim to the hateful heritage. Take it,
scan it well with your clearer gaze and
saner mind. You shall have it for the
asking, to do with as you please" Gerald
took the took the manuscript, never
dreaming that he would care to bestow
upon it more than few careless though
regretful glances. But in little while his
eyes were riveted, his face had begun
alternately to pale and flush. An hour or
two afterward he went to Crawford Clyde,
who had already so heartily welcomed him
for the sake of his own friend, Thorndyke,
but who had scarcely exchanged ten words
Gerald wrought its winsome results.
Thereby hangs tale," said DIR. Clyde's
new friend while handing him the curious
declaration of his death-rhenaced father.
sin the name of reason tell me what YOU
think of it. 1 have been simply dazed
after reading it score of times, and con-
fess that Pm dazed STILL"
Crawford Clyde examined the paper with
as much expedition as his many profess
sional duties allowed. However, this
meant with him no longer delay, for he
found time TO do everything though moth
ing well, if faith could be put in the iudg-
ments of his foes. But his friends affirmed
far differently. They said, and seemingly
with loving JUNCTION, that he managed to
do everything, and nothing ill. 1t is GER
tain that by some of his own guild this
wondrously successful young physician
was often called sham, fraud. But as
Ross Thorndyke had quickly seen in him,
he was really the kind of man in whom
solid traits predominated, while fanciful
ones merely embellished and trimmed these
like friezes of ornate carving OH structure
both sturdy and grave. Those who esti-
mated him by his whims and conceits
were speedily convinced of his shallow
ness. Passionately music-lover, he was
often seen at the opera; devoted to
the reading of novels, he seldom
missed a good one in either English
or French fond as woman of
flowers he bought them at all seasons.