Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1892-12-22
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| you get that name-Marston? Who told
you? Speak. Have they guessed his
| hiding place again?" the man half NUT
| tered to himself.
Il got the nume from letter-a let
ter from Mr. Marston himself" explain
ed Beatrice.
| OH muttered the man. I'll guar
antee he never told you to use that
name hereabouts, all the same. Rails
ton, girl Do you understand? Never
whisper Marston again, If you re friends
of ours.
Can / see him?"
| Can you see who?"
Mr.. Mar-Mr. Ralston? He sent
| for me"
He did?"
Yes. Take me to him. He will tell
you it is all right.
The man studied bit. He relocked
the gate and made sure that no one was
lurking about the place. Then taking
an enormous bunch Of keys from his
pocket. he led the way to the house.
A massive, gloomy structure, the care
he manifested in penetrating tho doubly
locked portals, indicated a Jail or a
castle of defense. 1t was richly fur
nished within, but the closed and barred
windows and chill pervading each
apartment made the antiquated man
sion seem somber, gloomy, and uninvit-
ing in the extreme.
You wait here.
Beatrice's guide pointed surlily to
chair in small waiting room, and dis
| appeared through door at it's other
end.
There was the low hum Of conversa-
ton in tho adjoining apartment. Her
eyes glowing like two sinister stars of
light Beatrice gljded noiselessly to the
threshold of tho door, that had just
closed noisclessly on her companion.
Her ear bent, she strove to translate
the gruff, explanatory accents of the
man, tho snarp, querulous, excited
| tones of his companion.
| When the door again opened how
ever, with tho grace and agility OF Il
panther she had regained the chair.
go in, nodded the keeper, and the
| door opened and closed after her. usher
ing her into roomy apartment, and
| leaving her face to face with her fate
| Half reclining in an invalid chair was
Il thin, white haired man. She studied
his working face from beneath her veil;
she noted the nervous tension OF brain
and body, for he was almost painting
with excitement, his eyes were keeniy
alive with unconcealed suspense.
My steward tells me you come here
with a letter" spoke the master Of the
mansion, in tones scarcely audible from
emotion.
Yes murmured Beatrice.
Il have written but one etjer-it was
to one have not cen for years.
Your daughter, Alice Edna Ralston?
| am she. Father"
Il p.,I
| ton Of the fair schooner WAS revealed at
last She had determined to personate
her dead friend and schoolmate: and
the stolen letter had we'll equipped her
for the cruel imposture.
My child!'
She had sprung forward at that Wild
yearninG cry. Not hoart-throb OF
pity for the fond, dcludcd old man, soul
hungry for the love and sympathy Of his
long absent child stirred her heart
only fierce, covetous JOY and triumph.
His real daughter was dead. Il kuowl-
ed9e of that fact in his evident critical
condition OF health, might kill him.
Surely, it was Il mercy to step into her
place, to solace the last days Of dying
man, to benefit by Il fortune that, else,
would go TO strangers or sordid com
panionS in his ineXplicable exile.
one Know she WAS Sllo Ill telling luS
story she had framed, and that circum-
stances would carry out her claims. She
showed the letter she had stolen from
Edna: she told how she and her guide
had been overtaken by the storm at the
broken bridge. He had persisted, she
had escaped, and she showed the news
paper containing the account Of the
double tragedy, unconsciously portray
| ing what had really TRANSFERRED, little
dreaming that Edna Deane of the past
the real Alice Edna Marston, or Ralston,
had not gone down in that weird swirl
OF waters.
But there was much to learn. Her
path was yet one Of pitfalls, and she
must DO secretive, Anu yet draw out the
secrets of the unsuspecting old man
who accepted her unrescrvedly as his
own child blinded by clever fa!sehoods,
the changes OF years, and her circum-
stantial narration of events he knew to
have happened rs she related them.
when you enter this house, he said,
you close Il door on the past never to
be opened Poor Rodney! he died in
bringing YOU to me. lie was my best
friend All these years. amid my inn
prisonment, my fugitive wanderings he
has been true to me-. He alone knew
where YOU had been placed. Now, I'M
der new name, you come to share my
loneliness. Fear not, it will only be Tor
few brief years. Then, mistress OF
my fortune, you can go forth into the
world and enjoy the liberty denied me.
Father, I do not understand, muir
INJURED the false daughter.
DO not try to. An innocent man,
have Yet been called upon to suffer the
| penalty of crime unjustly laid 10 my
| charge. Even now, l am Il fugitive
| from Justice Hunted down, a reward
upon my recapture. l sought this Sc
| Guided spot to die in peace. Here we
will live in quiet contentment, your love
and care the solace of my declining
years. Are you not content with that,
| Alice my chil12"