The Roanoke times. [volume] (Roanoke, Va.) 1890-1895, 1893-10-01
les, I'm out, Remember."

tatlOn OF careleSSneSS, his back TO the
door as the visitor entered. In reality
his muscles were braced to painful
rigidity, his face wac greenish white.
He was prepared to deny the charge alb
solutely, to decry the man as mad.
"No proof. No copy. No eye saw
you. 1t is your word against his"
Braced by logged, passionless as
surance il the stability Of the lie on
which he had surely builded, he looked
Felix Dawson in the eyes, and then his
plan of defense shriyeled, his heart
melted within him for very pity. This
was not an accuser come to demand JUS
tice. This was O 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
superior, n judge.
eyes, do"
ga long time ago 1 left play with
YOU. lulS dlttIIlOOu SAW IL aClcGi ttJ
Palliser's theater, your name on the pro-
gramme as its author"
This was the moment of supreme dis
stimulation, and Tom knew it. ALI the
forces within him were reused to
throbbing sense of self preservation.
But he could not lie to him. He could
be very wicked but for one strain in
herent in his nature. The waywardness
rolled like q 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 God!
what must you think of me?'
"What do think of your" asked Daw-
son, the low, resonant voice suddenly
quivering with contempt. "Iwould not
touch your hand for all the money in
the world if 1 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 thiefI'
Tom started and flung back his head.
"No, I'm not that. I'm not what you
| believe. 1 didn't rob you of your one
| possession and add it to my many.
| took it when 1 was mad with despair
/ You must believe me-you must. 1t
was here i'll this very ROOM" and he held
| out his arms, looking around the place,
an almost childish pleading in his eyes.
81 came i'll knowing 1 had failed. ac-
| cepted defeat with what agony perhaps
| you can guess. 1t was then l read your
| play for the first time. More than year
had passed since you left it, and Thought
| you dead. 1t would mean nothing to
| you, everything to me. took it. ask
| you again, what will you do!'
There was understanding in Felix
Dawson's eyes, but no softening. His
heart was like II wrung out sponge-it
knew no extremes. The one passion left
him was Il morbid love for the play he
had written.
Poor, wronged dead men. They can.
not all come back as 1 have done. But
unfortunately for you," he said, with Il
slight curl of his lip, 81 was not dead.
came here three times in the summer
following. The place seemed shut up
The rest of the time l have spent i'll q
hospital. Facing death and eternity,
forgot life, forgot you. God has
cursed me for many years, and 1 never
bent to the rod. And now, when had
thought the long, bitter day was to end
| in storm and darkness, there is a prom.
Use of a new dawn"
"You mean:n- and the words were q
| terrified breath on Toms lips.
"What can mean but that you are tC
give me my play" he cried.
"Ican't. Don't you see that it is I'M
possible-now?" The prayer had gone
from Toms voice. 1t was logged, des
perate. "rll give you every penny gel
for it, but my name must stand as its
anthor. To acknowledge your right
would be confessing my theft. That
refuse to do. 1t would mean social dis
grace. Do you understand
Dawson's face was terrible in its scorn.
"Money wont content me-"
| ''See here. ! could have denied your
right to this play-lied to your teeth.
But didn't. Face to face in this silent
room I have been honest with YOU
would undo it all if could, God knows
how readily" lie paused, and his voice,
though quiet, was like the strokes of
steel upon steel. But before the world
it will be different If You have no
mercy on my position, I'll have mono on
| you. 1 will swear if need be that the
| play is mine from the first word to the
last. l tell you it will be an unequal
struggle, and / will win. Cranks and
blackmailers abound in New York. You
will be classed among them and be for.