The Yakima herald. [volume] (North Yakima, W.T. [Wash.]) 1889-1914, 1894-04-19

L
the threshold. Suppose Delatole heard
him. Suppose the blow fell that after
noon.
He sat absolutely still, his eyes fixed
upon the door, his veins holding Q fluid
icy terror instead Of blood.
At last, to his intense relief. Delatols
thrust in his head, saying;
"Are you going to dine here? Well
III be back In time to have o demi
tasse with you. I want to see You,
Don't go out"
The danger Of betrayal over for the
moment, Tom breathed more freely
He crossed to the window and flung II
mp. letting the rain dash upon his face.
The chaos in his brain was rent sud.
denly by one sententious thought:
This man you dread has no proof"
No proof. The words sang In hi,
brain. the denuded trees creaked them,
the wind laughed in glee.
defy him. Defeat him. He is power.
less. You are strong"
The bell in the passage gave o whis.
pering tinkle. Tom turned, scarcely
surprised. Tho moment had come.
mr.. Murray, SIR, q gentleman to ses
you," said the English valet.
'Show him In here. II any ono else
comes, I'm out. Remember"
He was lighting cigar with an affec-
tation Of carelessness. his back to the
door as the visitor entered. In reality
his muscles were braced to q painful
rigidity. his face was greenish white.
He was prepared to deny the charge ab-
solutely. to decry the man as mad.
mo proof. No copy. No eye saw
you. 1t is your word against his"
Braced by q dogged, passionless as
surance in the stability Of the lie on
which he had surely builded. be looked
Felix Dawson in the eyes. and then his
plan of defense shriveled. his heart
melted within him for very pity This
was not an accuser come to demand JUS
tice. This was 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 inibittered triumph:
Pass by me now. Leave mo free.
You have taken ALL"
"You remember meT And his quiet
voice was peculiarly sad and strong.
Tom stood like one arraigned before a
superior, q judge.
Eyes, I do"
"a long time ago left play with
you. This afternoon saw it acted at
Palliser's theater, your name ON the pro-
gramme as its author"
This was the moment OF supreme die.
and Tom knew 1t. All the
forces within him were reused to q
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 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 dor Wait before you
speak. Hear me-" He stopped sudden
ly, pierced to the heart. my God!
what must you think Of mer'
"What do l 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 IL starved tomorrow. You
seem to me like rich man who searches
through Leggar's rags and steals his
last coin. You are utterly detestable to
me. You cowardi You thiefr
Tom started and flung back his head.
mo. I'm not that. I'm not what You
believe. l didn't rob you of your one
possession and add it to my many.
took it when I was mad with despair.
You must believe me--you must. II
was here in this very room" and he held
out his arms, looking around the place,
an almost childish pleading In his eyes.
II came in knowing / had failed. ac-
cepted defeat with what agony perhaps
You can guess. II was then read your
play for tho first time. More than year
had passed since you left it, and l Thought
you dead. 1t would mean nothing to
you, everything to me. took it. ask
you again, what will you dor
There was understanding in Felix
Dawsons eyes, but no softening. His
heart was like wrung out sponge--it
knew no extremes. The one passion left
him was morbid love for the play he
had written.
Poor, wronged dead men. They can
not all come back as have done. But
unfortunately for you," he said, with q
slight curl of his lip, II was not dead.
came here three times in the summer
following. The place seemed shut up.
The rest Of the time / have spent in q
hospital. Facing death and eternity,
forgot life, l forgot you. God has
cursed me for many years, and never
bent to the rod. And now, when had
thought the long, bitter day was to end
in storm and darkness, there is . prom
Use Of new dawn"
"You ineany'-- and the words were a
terrified breath on Toms lips.
"What can mean but that you are to
give me my playr' he cried.
II can't. Don't you see that it Is i'm
possible-nowf' The prayer had gone
from Toms voice. 1t was logged, des-
perste. "Ill give you every penny l get
for it, but my name must stand as its
author. 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 won't contentme."
''See here. could have denied your
right to this play--lied to your teeth.
But / didn't. Face to face in this silent
room ! have been honest with you. I
would undo it all il could, God knows
how readily" He paused, and his voice,
though quiet, was like the strokes Of
steel upon steel. But before the world
1t will be different. II you have no
mercy on my position I'll have none on