The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1892-01-24
CHAPTER II.-CovrIvUED.


with Hetheridge, and by night and by day
for many a night and day long past he felt
that be could have murdered Redwood if
the thing could only have been with safety.
He had killed him in fancy hundred
times, in almost as many different ways,
and had found tantalizng joy in the con-
temptation of the possibility. But he was
of that not uncommon tribe who desire to
have their cake and eat it, and the memory
Of the face of criminal, whom he had
seen and heard condemned to death at the
county assizes. was oftel potent with him.
To have had George Redwood wiped off the
face of the earth would have been pro-
digious satisfaction, joy the like Of which
few men are able in the course Of their
whole lives to contemplate. But he, John
Hetheridge, must keep alive to enjoy the
knowledge of his enemy's death, and so for
once in a way the vision of the hangman,
and that only, kept hands that burned to be
criminal from the stain Of murder.
There were two passions surging in the
mans heart, and each as fierce ana agonizing
as the other. Hate fed love, and love
strengthened hate until with the conflict of
the two, the hapless wretch whose heart
these gigantic passions took for their play
ground was well-nigh beside himself. He
could never have loved as pAssionately as
he did had his rival been other than the
man he hated with SO much intensity, nor
could his hate have risen TO its own dimen-
sions without the sense of rivalry to feed
it. In resolving TO uproot himself and to
seek out new land, he was running TO the
only ark of safety he could see. To stay on
and look at his rivals happiness meant the
certainty Of murder soon or late, aud bitter
as life was to him he set too high a value
upon it to throw it away for the sake of
Joy which, though fiercely coveted. was GER
tain TO be tleeting.
"I'm not going to hang for the black
guard unused John Hetheridge, "but if
ever | do see my way 70 have his life, and
get off scot free, I'll doit. Let him look out
for himself. III bide my time I'll find my
chance if l wait fifty years for it."
He knew the threat was empty even while
he made it, and his own impotence goaded
aud exasperated him almost beyond endur-
ance.
He fulfilled one part of his promise to
himself, and went to London, but the Black
CITRATE sat behind him all the way, and
went with him about the town, the uuceas-
ing companion of his waking hours, aud
many u uIOdulul ulkDb luB ltsDlfGE OF MS
dreams. Millions of men have tried the
futile experiment, but no man has ever
lodged his shadow yet. He nursed his
hatred, and with it, he nursed his misery.
The city had for him heavier and COM
pleter solitude than his own lonely kiness
home had ever brought him. He knew no
body, and his rewed heart was scratched a
hundred times a day by the crowd which
passed him heedlessly, knowing and caring
nothing of his miseries, his passion, his
hated, his despair.
Sir Eustace Wyncome's solicitor had OF
of course, town agent, and through his
hands went Hetheridge's business for the
time being. Sir Eustace offered a fair value
for the farm, and after a little haggling
Hetheridge accepted the bid. He found him
self In possession of sum Of money which
looked unending, and, for a week or two,
plunged into wild extravagauces, but be
soon took to fright at these. and began to
atone for them by a niggardly carefulness.
All the while the thought of the approach
ing marriage haunted him. He was power
less to arrest it or delay it, except by the
one means he dared not take.
He bad heard no news or word from home
except through his man of business, there
was nobody to whom he cared to write. and
nobody to who seemed TO care to write to him.
The goods of the old house had gone under
the hammer without reserve. He had had
his reckoning with the auctioneer, and there
was nothing to delay him further. He was
absolutely unimcumbered, free 20 go where
and when he wanted, and yet something
held him back, and twice he turned away
from the offices of the shipping company
without taking the passage he had meant to
purchase.
The summer was ended and over: the
days we're drawing in and growing chilly.
the great city was buried in the yellow
cloud of its first autumn fog, and the NOR
row was the day which had been fixed for
George Redwood's marriage. Hetheridge
had never had that date out of his mind.
and now moved by he knew not what i'm
pnlse-mucn as men in fierce agony have
been known to eat and tear their wounds
he resolved on going home aud being him
self witness of the ceremonr.
As the train bore him from the fog Of
London into the crisper, clearer country
air, be was tormented by dsproportioned
fear lest the time should have been ante
dated or postponed.
1t became to him somehow an essential
thing that he should see the marriage with
his own eyes, and should with his own ears
hear the words which bound George Red
wood and Ellice Greenaway together. His
mt OF extravaganza on first coming into his
money had sent him to fashiona-
BILE W est End tailor, and he was attired I'M
like his old self, and was conscious of the
change. There was but little difference be-
tween them to the eye of a man of CITY
breeding, but there are degrees in rusticity.
and Hetheridge had always felt himself to
be his rivals superior in manner and the
art of dress. There was a sore and angry
little triumph in his mind at the thought
that in these respects at least he could far
outshlne his rival; and real as hate, and
love, and despair all were to him, this
trivial vanity for the time being was as inn
portant to him as all Of them together
He put up at the sign of the Black Bull
the one respectable hostel of the place, and
found himself the object of an unwelcome
curiosity there. He sat that night in all the
panoply of his own splendor in the little
bar parlor, and fraternized with the little
knot Of ancient cronies
BEST here TO see the weddingm one of
them demanded, with that brutality of di-
rectness which characterizes the British
yokel above all other men on earth.
Hetheidge wincei, but hid the vince
with a swagger, drained his steaming glass
of brandy and water with flourish, aud
slapped the tumbler on the table so Mostly as
to break its stem.
Eyes" be responded, roysteringly. "Pm
here to see the wedding and III drink the
brides good health. And now, Bowen" he
cried to the landlord, "come here, and fill
all these gentlemen's glasses. Don't fear to
order what you like, gentlemen. I'm here
to pay for them. Miss Gresnaway's vir-
tues and beauty are worthy Of rousing