The Bottineau pioneer. (Bottineau, N.D.) 1885-1895, 1893-05-13
A MANS HONOR.

srate-nre, with hostile eyes. He be-
heved himself to be particularly calm
his heart was beating at it's normal,
placid pace, his mind was clear. He
was unaware that his fingers were
nervously tapping the arms of his chair,
and that his view of the fire was grad
ually growing blurred and indistinct.
The library table was thickly strewn
with papers, and Wyndam's brother
leaned heavily against it, gnawing his
discolored lips.
At length Wyndam broke the strained
silence. He arose from his seat and
placed his arm upon his brothers Shout
der, saying: do you see the biting
jest fortune played us in removing
our father before he could destroy
these pleasing documents? For 1 have
no doubt he fully intended to destroy
them"
The younger man impatiently chafed
under his brothers words. He threw
back his head as if to shake him.
self free from the thoughts which pur-
sued him.
Il am not sorry he had not time
to destroy them," he returned, labored-
ly; The tried to teach us to the full
the meaning of honor-perhaps with
the idea that we would be able to do
what he was not strong enough to &C.
complish. 1t only remains with us to
make restitution
Wyndam looked at him in astonish-
ment and cold admiration Of his a
ner Of receiving the blow.
THAT is all that is left for u.s. he
,r,o.l slo-ylr. Ssonl rva oon oaonrnn1iSh
it only by our death; otherwise the
world would know of our dishonor.
Fortunately, Howard is the next in
succession, and will come into his w
without need of disclosing to him IL
shame"
The n man was unable to re-
strain the faint look of protest WHICH
| momentarily flashed into his heavy
| eyes. Then the blank hopelessness
| again enveloped his features, as he
| echoed: Only our death can right the
| wrong"
He recognized that the case required
| that drastic measurable wished no re-
| peal from it, for every breath he now
| drew was poisoned; but the thought OF
death, which only an hour g had
| seemed SO far distant, came upon MN
| with something of a shock.
at will be we'll for us to make our
exit as speedily as possible Wyndam
purs1ed: there will be the usual Won
! derment at our hasty deed; but. at
| least, there will be no suspicion OF the
truth"
He commenced to separate the papers
with his usual customary methodlcal
! precision, quickly bringing order out OF
| the confusion which had reigned. He
was hindered rather than helped by his
brothers assistance. He deposited IN
| the fire the confession which had laid
| bare before them ~unguessed infamy,
| and the two stood watching until the
| flames had mercifully devoured the last
bit of paper which could have avowed
their dishOnOr.
Then Wyndam said: II am going to
my own apartments. 1t will probably
take me an hour to arrange my W
affairs. At the expiration Of that time,
] shall end my life"
Il shall do likewise" declared the
younger man, who had nov regained
| the mastery Of himself. His voice rang
| steady, but his face was like a death
mask in it's stiffened, unnatural repose.
There had never been any strong
| liking between them, but as Wyndam
| SllOOh llo lIAAu upoA Avn
him at the turn of the corridor, he was
| stirred by u momentary thrill of pity.
| He knew his brother we'll enough to re-
| alize that life could nov hold no posi-
| BILE charm for him, but it seemed sad
| that he should be forced to leave it
| while he was still possessed OF the ex-
altations peculiar to youth.
Wyndam closed the door of his own
| den. and set about the completion of
| his task. There was not IL letter over
which, he fingered before committing
it to the flames, yet many of them
were~from the one M he had ever
loved, and to whom his marriage was
imminent. He had always been able
to keep his mind from the disagreeable,
and he was determined that in this last
act he would still maintain his admira-
BILE composure and not try himself
needlessly.
He refused absolutely to allow his
thoughts to dwell upon what was to
happen within the hour, and he noticed,
with a subdued throb of self-satisfac-
ton, his unfaltering nerve.
He debated with himself for some
moments over the ACCESSIBILITY of leav-
ing a few last words to the woman who
was to have been his wife, but ulti-
IldlCly ulSllASSCu liz lLOu6AL 40 StlS VI
ing of the dramatic. In fact, he felt
he could derive no consolation from
writing to her, as he could frame no
possible excuse for his impending
action.
He walked compOsedly to the drawer
which contained his revolver, but paus-
ed before the mirror to push back from
his brow the hair which had become
displaced. He also noticed that his
cravat was somewhat awry and ear
ranged it. -.
note of his condition. He had more
than once before proved himself to be
possessed of more than ordinary cou
age, and felt assured he would meet
death, when it came, unfiinchingly. Yet
as he unhesitatingly leveled the weapon
at his heart, he congratulated himself
upon his coolness.
AS he was about to pull the trigger,
he heard, indistinctly, the muffied re-
port of the pistol which had been fired
In a room further down the corridor.
The sound fastened him. and he at once
pulled the trigger.
Il. He fell into the chair beside him. his
hand pressed to his heart, hoping that
death would not be long delayed, fol
the pain he was suffering was intense
He could feel the warm blood trickline
, over his hand, dyeing the bosom Of his
shirt a vivid red.
His eyes fell upon his trembling hand
) which still elfthced the pistol. It wal
, not smoking, and suddenly there echoed
hammer. He realized that he was no,
shot, that the pistol had been unloaded
4. The mirror, which he faced. unnerci
f,,I1v raAnntad him The cnlnr had ftnf