The weekly intelligencer. [volume] (Lexington, Mo.) 1891-1901, 1892-12-31

rcSSeS which ,iodIrey was neither loutn
nor slow to return. Zach looked on /
with wide-opencd eyes and parted
lips, seemingly paralyzed by what was
being enacted before him.
"Oh. the poor woman! the poor wom-
an" he groaucl. What will become
of her
Suddenly Molly, with IN almost SUI
perhuman effort, drew herself to.
gether and succeeded in checking this
outburst of feeling. Then with her |
arm wound affectionately around God |
freys neck, she led him to the door,
kissed him, and said:
$50, my dear child go. need to be |
be alone. I'll see you again soon |
very soon"
The lad turned. and fixing his large
dark eyes inquiringly upon the beauti-
fuI face halted for an instant, then
passed out of sight Zach made a move
lnent as il TO follow Godfrey, but Molly.
who was still prey to the widest emo
| ton, made sudden gesture which
caused him to close the door again.
Don't go, Zach"
MADAM, madam urged French,
''calm yourself, for Heavens sake; your
health win suffer; you'll not be in a
condition TO superintend the vast details
of the expedition which you are to set
on foot upon your arrival in Adelaide l
implore you be calm, be strong"
Zach, Zach" she burst out, paying
no heed to the mans words. Zach,
this child was raised in the Walter
home. He was born in San Diego; he
is fourteen or fifteen years of age; in
4, n l,l
to John. He has that same open. manly
bearing, that strong love of the ocean.
He must be sailors son, Zach. Oh.
Zach. he is Johns son-he is mine. The
world thinks that the dark waters of
the bay of San Diego swallowed up that
dear little baby, but no, oh, no. no, he
was not drowned. God knows he was
not; some one rescued him-some low
ing hands reached out for him as he
went Hoating along on the bosom of
those dark waters; they didn't know
whose ,hild he was-how could they?
They didn't know what mother was
stretching out her pleading hands to
Heaven. but | was there all the time,
my poor mind darkened and clouded
with not faint glimmer of hope to
save ME from insanity. Oh, Zach, my
friend. my dear friend. tell you this is
my child-this is my little Walter, my
son. God has had mercy on me ut last.
lie has given him back to me-"
Molly's voice died away. She could
not utter another word. Her transports
. choked her, pressed the very life out of
her. She could only hold out her hands
81 toward the honest seaman, her astanch
and loyal. friend, as if implorlng him to
tspeak, tosagree with her. TO admit that
it must be so, that the proof was over
whelming
Zach stood for moment in perfect
silence, his lips closed. His eyes took
! on a hard and unsympathetic look. his
whole face and being underwent q sud-
| den and complete change. He stood
there like a man resolved to be honest
at all hazards, TO speak the truth, no
l matter how 1t might stab mothers
:. tender heart. lie had listened in silence
to all she had to say. Possibly he should
I not have done so, possibly he should
:. haYe. stamped Molly at the outset A
prevented all this. However, it was too
t late to speculate now as to what lac
c should have done. What he should dc
now was the question, and like a man
r who never shrinks backward when duty
l. bids him go ahead, he spoke out firmly
|, plainly, almost cruelty:
. Mrs. Allaire, you are deceiving your.
self. ] cannot, must not permit you
to believe what is not so This resem.
y blance between this sailor lad and Capt
S John is an accidental one, such as often
z happens in life. Your little Walt is
dead-yes, dead! He perished in the
narbor that dreadful day. saw hin
u go down forever! Godfrey is not your
SON."
"You say Walter is dcad?'' cried Mrs
: Allaire, starting forward with q wild
!: defiant look in her eyes. How do you
know it? Who can say it of his own
knowledge"
n Il, madam"
) "You?"
: 'Yes, madam. Listen! Eight days
after that terrible accident the body ot
I an infant was washed up on the beach
u at Point Iona. I-I-found it and
FASTENED to inform Mr.. Hollister. He
: recognized little Walt, whom he caused
S to be secretly buried in the cemetery OF
! San Diego. We were the only mourn.
n ers. the only ones to strew flowers upon
e that little grave Is
, Walt, my little Walt, buried in the
. cemetery" sobbed Molly, piteously,
'and none ever>told me Of it." ,,
a NO, madam" said Zach, solemniy,
6 ''for the time being you were out o.
!, your mind. When. four years after, you
\ recovered your reason, we dared not
! Mr.. Hollister dared not tell you of it.
3 she, was afraid to tear open your
r wounded heart, and DIR. Bromley agreed
r with him that it might be dangerous
: that'one you had knelt by that little
grave you would hover over it day by
day, and your mind would gradually
t give way, until settled and incurabie
s melancholy had fastened itself upon
t you. We did what we thought was the
t best, dear lady. God help you, but be
t strong, make up your mind that youl
child is dead; that this sailor lad has
: only the right which hundreds of othe,
| children have to call you mother"
5 Molly sank with long, deep, pitiful
$ groan upon the sofa. She hid her face
in her hands-she seemed to be praying.
: Zach dashed tear off his rough cheek,
and stood waiting for her to speak.
With suddenness that startled him,
, Molly sprapg up
, ''What! Can it be-" she moaned, "that
you, that Andrew Hollister were hard,
were cruel enough to lay that little
} loved body away in the cold, damp
earth without taking from it any bit OF
ribbon, any shred Of his dress, and OF
: his tiny shoes-to hand to me some day
when | should. be well and strong
again?'
Yes. dear lady, did even better
than that" exclaimed Zach, almost joy
fully, Il cut from his little head a clus-
. ter of his silken curls.'
And you have them, Zach?" almost
shrielted Molly, springing forward
Yes, yes, madam, here. on my heart,
: where I've carried them many long
r year.
Zach unbuttoned his jacket and drew
} forth large envelope of strong paper,
soiled and blackened by its long and
rough passage on this honest breast,
and, placing it in Molly's hand, turned
and hurried out of the stateroom.
When the door closed, Molly threw her.
: self on her knees in front of the sofa
! with this priceless packet clasped