Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1893-03-09
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BoiNVu HVi AhuSH WIN tHo uHRlJ Blulo
Of an enemy.
"No, you DON'T" no said. where did
you get that name-AIarston? Who told
you? Speak, Have they guessed his
hlding7pace AGAIN." the man half NUT
tered to himself,
IL got the name from a 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 tho same. Rails
ton, girl Do you understand? Never
whisper Marston again, II you're friends
of ours.
"Can | see hlm?"
Can you see who?"
"Mr. Mar-Mr, Ralston? He sent
for mo.
He dld?"
yes. Take mo to him. He will tell
you 1t Is all right.
The man studied q 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 the doubly
locked portals, indicated jail or a
castle of defense. 1t was richly fur
nlshed within, but the closed and barred
windows and chill pervadng each
apartment made the antlquated man
sion seem somber, gloomy, and unlnvlt-
ing In the extreme.
You wait here"
Beatrice guide pointed surlily TO
chair in small wating-room and dis
appeared through door at its other
end.
There was the low hum of conversa-
ton in the adjoining apartment. Her
eyes glowing like two sinister stars Of
light, Beatrice glided nolselessly to the
threshold Of the door, that had just
closed noiselessly on her companion.
Her ear bent, she strove to translate
the gruf, explanatory accents of the
man, the sharp, querulous, excited
tones Of his companion.
When the door again opened, how
ever, with the grace and agility OF
panther she had regained the chair.
go in, nodded the keeper, and the
door opened and closed after her, usher
ing her into u roomy apartment, and
leaving her face to face with her fate
Half reclining in an invalid chair was
a thin, white-halred man. She studied
his working face from beneath her veil;
she noted the nerve is tension OF brain
and body, for he was almost painting
with excitement, his eyes were keenly
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 letter-it was
to one | have not seen for years.
Your daughter, Alice Edna Ralston?
l am she. Father"
The plot, the fraud, the false assump-
ton Of the fair schemer was revealed at
last. She had determined to personate
her dead friend and schoolmate; and
the stolen letter had well equipped her
for the cruel imposture.
My child"
She had sprung forward at that wild,
yearning cry. Not u heart-thro of
pity for the fond, deluded old man. soul
hungry for the love and sympathy of his
long absent child stirred her heart
only fierce, coyetous joy and triumph.
His real daughter was dead, knowl-
edge of that fact, in his evident critical
condition of health, might kill him.
Surely, 1t was mercy to step into her
place, to solaoe the last days Of dying
man, to benefit by fortune that, else,
would go to strangers or sordid COM
panions in his inexplicable exile.
She knew she was safe in telling the
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, unconsclously 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 be seCretive, ana yet draw out the
secrets Of the unsuspecting old man
who accepted her unreservedly as his
own child, blinded by clever falsehoods,
the changes Of years, and her circum-
stantial narration of events he knew to
have happened as she related them.
When you enter this house, he said,
you close door on the past never to
be opened Poor Rodney he died in
bringing you to me. He was my best
friend. All these years, amid my i'm
prisonment, my fugitive wanderings, he
has been true to me. He alone knew
where you had been placed. Now, un-
der new name, you come to share my
loneliness. Fear not it will only be for
few brief years. Then, mistress Of
my fortune, you can go forth into the
world and enjoy the liberty denied me. "
Father, | 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 a crime uniustly laid to my
charge. Even now, I am a fugitive
from Justice. Hunted down, a reward
upon my recapture. l sought this Sc
cluded 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 child?"
Yes. murmured Beatrice, since you
will 1t so.
Why not? Life here, surrounded by
every luxury, would not be so ard
that she could not find some enjoyment
in it, and later on!--her eyes gloweC