The Providence news. (Providence [R.I.]) 1891-1906, 1893-09-16

make? That he was coming he was alb.
.solutely sure. He must be near now.
Perhaps in FIVE minutes he would cross
the threshold. Suppose Delatole heard
him. Suppose the blow fell that after.
noon.
He sat absolutely still, his eyes fixed
upon the door, his veins holding fluid,
icy terror instead of blood.
AT last, to his intense relief, Delatole
thrust in his head, saying:
''Are you going to dine here? Well,
I'll be back in time to have q demi.
tasse with you. / want to see you.
Don't go out"
The danger of betrayal over for the
moment, Tom breathed more freely.
He crossed to the window and flung il
up, letting the rain dash upon his face.
The chaos in his brain was rent sud.
denly by one sententious thought:
''This man you dread has no proof"
No proof. The words sang in his
brain, the denuded trees creaked them,
the wind laughed in glee.
"Defy him. Defeat him. He is power.
less. You are strong"
/ The bsll in the passage gave whis.
pering tinkle. Tom turned, scarcely
surprised. The moment had come. r
''Mr. Murray, sir, a gentleman to see
YOU" said the English valet.
"Show him in here. If any one else
comes, I'm out. Remember"
He was lighting cigar with an affec.
tation Of carelessness, his back to the
door as the visitor entered. In reality
his muscles were braced to painful
rigidity, his face was greenish white.
He was prepared to deny the charge alb
solutely, to decry the man as mad.
mo proof. No copy. No eye saw
you. 1t is your word against his"
Braced by dogged, passionless as.
surance in the stability Of the lie on
which he had surely builded, he looked
Felix Dawson In the eyes, and then HE
plan or derense snr1veled, his heart
melted within him for very pity. This
was not an accuser come to demand jus
tice. This was man in whom the fires
of life had died. His eyes were graves
of dead illusions. So might one look
who had parted with hope and stood
with outstretched, empty hands, crying
to fate, In tones OF imbittered triumph:
pass by me now. Leave me free.
You have taken ALL"
"You remember me?" And his quiet
voice was peculiarly sad and strong.
Tom stood like one arraigned before a
superior, judge. ~~ ~
eyes, I do"
"A long time ego left q play with
you. This afternoon saw 1t acted at
Palliser's theater, your name on the pro
gramme a. its author"
This was the moment Of supreme dis.
stimulation, and Tom knew it, All the
forces within him were reused to a
throbbing sense of self preservation.
But no could not lie to him. He could
be very wicked but for one strain in
herent In bis nature. The waywardness
rolled like sea, only to break upon this
as upon bar and surge back strength
less and abortive. No, he could not lie
to him. His glance wavered, the cigar
dropped from his trembling fingers, he
moved little nearer Felix Dawson, his
heart In his eyes.
"What will you do? Wait before you
speak. Hear me-" He stopped sudden
ly, pierced to the heart. my Godl
what must You think of meT M
"What do ! think of your" asked Daw.
son, the low, resonant voice suddenly
quivering with contempt. 'Twould not
touch your hand for all the money in
the world II / starved tomorrow. You
seem to me like rich man who searches
through beggar's rags and steals his
last coin. You are utterly detestable to
me. You coward! You thief!'
Tom started and flung back his head.
"No, I'm not that. I'm not what you
believe. ] didn't rob you of your one
possession and add it to my many. ]
took it when was mad with despair.
You must believe me-you must. II
was here in this very room" and he held
out his arms, looking around the place,
an almost childish pleading in his eyes.
81 came in knowing had failed. ] ac.
cepted defeat with what agony perhaps
you can guess. 1t was then read your
play for the first time. More than year
had passed since You left it, and Thought
you dead. II would mean nothing to
you, everything to me. took it. ask
you again, what will You dor
There was understanding in Felix
Dawson's eyes, but no softening. His
heart was like wrung out sponge-it
knew no extremes. The one passion left
him was morbid love for the play he
had written.
"Poor, wronged dead men. They can.
not all come back as l have done. But
unfortunately for you," he said, with
slight curl Of his lip, II was not dead. !
came here three times in the summer
following. The place seemed shut up
The rest of the time i have spent in a
hospital. Facing death and eternity, l
forgot life, ! forgot you. God has
cursed me for many years, and never
bent TO the rod. And now, when had
thought the long, bitter day was TO end
in storm and darkness, there is prom
Use of new dawn"
"You meanl''- and the words were a
terrified breath on Toms lips.
HxNl.x <... n -. 90, Jx,.k that xynt, A 70 fr.