The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1892-09-04
CHAPTER XIL-CoNT1EUED.
FATHER AND DAUGHTER.

they nau QrliteQ from Lne subject Whlcn
must be told.
Nellie's next words, however, recalled it
TO him, while she herself set him an ex-
ample of courage in facing truth as pain
ful as his own.
''Ahl if had only found you when I
might have seen as well as known you.
You have guessed my secret, father, have
you notl You know that am bllndP
YES, yes" be said, in broken. hurried
tone They told me how you lost your
eyesight in that terrible illness which fol-
lowed your rash coming to London. Why
did you not wait till came, little oneF'
81 did, FIVE long days My letter must
have been lost" Sir Lawrence had it in
his breast.
Nell meanwhile was silent, turning over
in her mind a perplsxing thought which
had occurred TO her.
There was her secret, the truth about her
blindness. Ought she not, might she not
telll 1t seemed SO, and the relief to her
would have been great But, though at
first she might not have hesitated to break
her oath, the length OF time which it had
bound her gave 1t a new and greater
power. Might not her father blame her
for breaking it, or for having kept it so
longl At the least the remembrance that
had he never parted from her the evil
would never have come to pass, must cause
him pain.
Then too what good could the confession
dot Her eYesight could never be given
back TO her, nor life to the man whom she
had seen lying dead, his limbs so terribly
twisted In agony.
All these things, added to the sacredness
of the oath she had taken combined to
make silence seem the best course in the
matter.
FalterinEly she put the question, so fear
full was she of losing the great gift she had
but just received.
"You will not love me less, father, be-
cause | am in darkness because | have no
eyes?"
She always avoided, IL possible, the bare
word "blind, " it seemed so cold and cruel,
preferring to speak of herself as one always
in night, or as If her face lacked those sweet
blue windows to her soul, which, despite
their darkness, completed the charm Of her
face.
"You little know how great bond 1t is
between US, that darkness, +" said Sir Law
renee, trembling, for he knew that the test
60 which he must now put her love would
be far greater than the one she put to his. |
There Is a mercy In your blindness, child. |
which you do not dream off,
"A mercy" she repeated, wonderingly; |
then, forgetting for the moment her brave |
resolve to hide from him her pain, she adj |
ded vehemently: "Ah, mol it could not be |
anything that lie good It Is 80 terrible an |
afflictionl At first it seemed a IL 1t would |
break my heart. and even now, when am
so happy In having found you, 1t almost
makes me sad"
Only an effort of iron will kept back q
groan Of anguish from the fathers lips at
these words. He was suffering a punish
ment for his lack Of mercy TO one he had
not known as bis child greater than ever
in bis greatest horror he had deemed posi-
BILE.
There could, he felt, be nothing more for
him to endure unless knowing his deform-
ity, she did indeed shrink from him. Yet the
knowledge that he suffered that deformity
now for her sake brought him some small
comfort. II she bore pain because Of him
he bore the like for her sake.
The two contradictory thoughts nerved
him to his task at last
Listen, child" he said, 81, too, have q
secret to tell you"
And then he drew away from her, and
bade her gently stand up. She obeyed him
wonderingly.
"Put out your hand" he added what
do you touch"
''Your head. your face" she said. as she
obeyed. Are you'kneeling still, fatherp
mo, child, ~ he replied, as firmly as he
could, for he did not wish to brighten her,
only TO make her realize the truth. "Nor
was l before. Put your hand here-at my
back What do you feelF'
Have you burden on your shoulders,
father?@ she asked. in a tone of mingled
surprise and wonder but not a grain of
fear, such as his keen heart must have de-
teoted at once.
Its absence gave him strength to answer
her calmly, "Yes, dear, burden that will
never fall away, one which bow VS. me down
until l am no higher than your elbow, and
crooks my limbs until-Nelr-speaking
now hastily and almost sharply-''did you
ever when you had your eyes sea bunch
back-a cripple-a dwarf"
he paused and held his breath expecting
a start OF horror, of recognition, and then
perhaps the beginning of tho horrible forg-
ing OF evidence against him. which in the
end might make her his accuser, that worst
thought Of all.
To his surprise her answer at once did
away with all such fears.
II did see one once" she said at once
simply and fearlessly, when was quite
child"
"And never SINGER he asked, scanning
her face and believing that he must be blind
not to detect In it some shadowtpg of the
thought by which she connected him with
the dead man Of whom be was the living
image.
No" she replied, never only that
once"
"Was it not the most dreadful sight you
ever sawp
"No." she replied and a look of fear did
creep into her face. 1.-THE most dreadful
thing ever saw was dead man. who had
DIED IN such agony that his limbs we're all
drawn up, or SO they seemed to me. IL was
30 dark could not see distinctly. I"
She stayed, suddenly realizing that she
was unconsciously breai ing the oath she
had judged it best to keep. and alding, for
Tear her father should question nsr, "Why
do you askP'
For moment or so Sir Lawrence did
not reply. He was lost In wonder at the
sudden relief from one of his greatest fears.
The dim light OF the room had dazzled
her eyes. She had seen Royal only dimIv.
dis victim as well as he (the Rat had been
IN shadow, in which the dead mans defor1n-
lty had assumed the disguise OF deaths con-
tortions.
be was safe, miraoulously safel The
danger OF his child being bis aocuser had
melted away before her impulsive words
The courage with which the fact inspjred
him spurred him on TO the other portion of
his task.
At first, seeing the look OF horror on her
face as she recalled the events OF the muir
der his frurTrloa - kaI