Waterbury evening Democrat., 1893-04-18

\ brothers dolng.
 'I told him should see you. He has gone to church this morning-to church I-knowing that am to meet you here. What am to tell him?''
 "Why," said Jack, considering it Is three months since he came, and that have not made any sign, he might take it for granted that am not going to move or to speak. don't deny, Eva, that whenI heard he was coming was a good bit shaken. thought that might send him a copy of the comics sion, and ask him what he proposed | doing. say that this temptation did assail me. I am ashamed to own that | it did"
 ''Jack," she interrupted him quickly, .sthere is no safety possible for us so long as that paper remains in your hands. Consider-you may die; you may fall ill; you may even, God forgive me for saying so, fall away and betray us. The noblest inheritance of my children is their fathers honor It lies at the mercy of an accident. His honorl think of what 1t is to him-to me-to all of us Do not leave that to chance. There is but one person in the world that knows the truth-it Is | yourself There is but one proof of the truth-it Is that paper"
 He made no reply. She went on I again more passionate1y:
 Put it beyond your own power, most loyal of men, to betray and ruin us- Leave to my children their fathers honor; leave him to follow out his career to the end. Will you do this for me-for my children-in memory of the past?'
 Then Jack spolSe-slowly because he was anxious to speak for once and SO to have done with it. "Whcn I read in the paper that he was coming, heard his voice plain and clear saying: Take my confession. Do what you like with 1t. If you suffer from the consequences, reveal it. ! If in the future, you can advance your | self by means of this paper use it-you | have the right to use It. could not use his confession. How could use it? Could I threaten with it-demand pro- | motion with it-extort money with it? Then learned by accident, the other day, how his private secretary told him \ the story and how he said in his grand ly austere way that some things can never be forgotten, that they cling to a | man through life and hinder him. | Now do think, making every allow ance for official purity, that was carry ing virtue to an extreme. But it made me deliberate what to do next. And have found out the way. It is all clear ! to me at last"
 "whnt way2 In the name of pity, what way2"
 "If had been the governor and he had been the junior clerk I should have tried to make up to him quietly and l without explanation for all these years by such advancement as lay in my power. should have done this for him in order to let him know that the past was buried, but the sense of the sacrifice was left"
 "He does not do it in order to let you know that the past cannot be for gotten"
 "Yes, and out of his fears lest the man who knows it should have become a cad"
 "Do not be too bitter, Jack"
 "He might have played the part of Providence. He has preferred to play
 the part of the judge. Well, my way is
 plain. have brought the papers.
 Here they are. wilt give them to you, Lady Dunxeld, on one condition"
 "Any condition-an conditions"
 "Nay-this is Q very simple condition. It is that during the whole of his of
 ficial residence here he will leave me
 absolutely alone Let him never inter
 fere with me. Let him never have
 speech with me. Let him never offer
 me any promotion. He must not, on
 the other hand, cause that story to be
 spread about. He must compass neither
 good nor harm for me. You promise
 this, Eva-for your husband?"
 "Yes-yes-I promise upon my-upon
 his-honor which now nothing can
 touch. Oh! now I breathe again. Con-
 ditions? Ask the whole of my fortune.
 You shall have it so long as have this
 paper. You are certain that there is nc
 copy?"
 i ''There is no copy. You are quite
 safe. If were to proclaim the whole
 truth tomorrow no one would believe
 word of it, and an action for libel
 would be my reward" ! "We are safe" She sat down and
 panted with heaving breast. What car
 I say? That I can never thank you
 enough? That is poor thing to say
 Yet what else am to say? Why, I car
 never tell anyone. You have done a
 most noble thing, and cannot ever
 tell my children. You are suffering
 contumely and I cannot even offer tc
 relieve you, nothing can relieve you
 now. The consequences continue One
 man sinned and another goes in obscuri
 ty all his life for that sin. Go, Jack
 On our heads lies the real shame, the
 bitterness, and the remorse. That is
 our punishment. We are not worthy tc
 touch your hand. Go, Jack. will give
 him the paper. We will keep your con
 dition.''
 He lifted his hat and turned without
 another word. So they parted, who
 will never meet again.
 CHAPTER VI 4 The monotony of his life, broken 1T
 this manner, began again. The roadi