The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936, 1893-04-28
motionless and hardly breathing.
II have been mistaken" Unorna
continued at last. "Forgive-forget

drew back a step from her side.
.'How easy it is for you'll" exclaimed
the Morayian. How easy! How
simple!. You call me, and / come.
You let your eyes rest on me,
and l kneel before you. You sigh.
and / speak words Of love. You lift
your hand. and / crouch at your feet.
You frown-and I humbly leave you.
How easyr'
You are wrong and you speak fool
ishly. You are angry and you do not
weigh your words"
ANGRY! What have / to do with
SO common q madness as angerp l am
more than angry. Do you think that,
because | have submitted to the veer-
ing gusts Of your good and evil hui
mors these many months, l have lost
all consciousness of MYSELF Have
you promised me nothingp Have
you given me no hope? Have you
said and done nothing whereby you
are bound?"
IL never gave you either pledge or
pr mise" answered Unorna in a
harder tone. The only hope I have
ever extended to you was this, hat 1
would one day answer you plainly. 1
have done so. You are not satisfied.
Is there anything more to be said? 1
do not bid you to leave my house for
ever, any more than / NEAR to drive
you from my friendship"
From your friendship. All, 1
thank you. Unorna, l most humbly
thank you. For the mercy YOU ex-
tend in allowing me to linger near
you, I am grateful. Your friend,
you say? Ay, truly, your friend and
servant, your servant and your slave.
your slave and your don Your friend
ship-I have no words ~ Gkanks."
Take it, or take ~ n4.-as you
will" Unorna glanss0 - lis angry
face and quickly looket ay.
Take it? Yes, ans more too,
whether you will give it or not" an
swered Israel Kafka, moving nearer
to her. Eyes. Whether you will, or
whether you will mott will have all,
youp friendship, your love, your life,
your breath, your soul-all or moth
ing"
"You r wise to suggest the latter
alternative as q possibility" said
U%norna, coldly, and not needing his
approach.
The young man stood still and
folded his arms.
"Do you mean what you say?" he
asked, slowly. "Do you mean that 1
shall have not all, but nothingp Do
you still dare to mean that. after all
that has passed between you and me?"
Unorna raised her eyes and looked
steadily into his.
''Israel Kafka, do not speak to me
of daring"
But the young mans glance did not
v The angry expression of his
features did not relax.
where is your power now?' he
asked suddenly. ''Where is your
witchery? You are only a woman,
after all-you are only a weak
woman"
Very slowly he drew are to her
side, his 1.-THE figure bending q little
as he looked down upon her. Unorna
leaned far back, Withdrawing her face
from his as far as she could, but still
trying to impose her will upon him.
You cannot" he said, between his
teeth, answering her thought.
Men who have tanned wild beasts
alone know what such a moment is
like. A hundred times the brave man
has held the tiger spellbound, and
crouching under his cold, fearless
gaze.
To draw back, to let his glance
waver, to show so much as the least
sign of fear, is death. The moment
is supreme, and he knows it.
Unorna grasped the arms of her
chair, as though seeking her physical
support in her extremity. Between
her and her mistake the image of
what should be stood out, bright, vivid
and strong. A new conviction had
taken the place of the old, a real
passion was flaming upon the altar
wherein she had fed with dreams the
sem lance of a sacred fire.
''You do not really love me-" she
said softly.
Israel Kafka started, as a man who
- struck unawares. The monstrous
untruth which filled the words broke
down his guard. sudden tears yelled
the penetrating sharpness of his gaze
and his hand trembled.
Il do not love you? 1! Unorna-
Unorna!"
The first word broke from him in a
cry of horror and stupefaction. But
her name, when he spoke it, sounded
as the death moan of a young wild an
imal wounded beyond all power to
turn at bay.
She knew that the struggle was over
and that she had gained the mastery,
though the price of victory might be
a broken heart.
you thought l was jesting," she
said in a low voice. but there was
no jest in what [ said-nor any I'M
kindness in what I meant, though it
is all my fault. But that is true-you
never loved me as I would be loyed.n