Democratic Northwest and Henry County news. [volume] (Napoleon, O. [Ohio]) 1894-1905, 1894-09-13

IN mlnus my DuSlutss ucIS toniSHt VIII
not very much surprise you. Lost to
honor and self respect and to every SEN
timent which makes a man a man, you
will not be astonished when / tell you
what have come to tell H,when l have
told it, you wish to throw me to the
street and break every bone in my
worthless body, l shall not resist you.
In fact, / could not if would. am too
weak. Observe, for instance, that.
He extended toward Maxey one of his
lean and sallow hands. 1t shook like
leaf.
THAT is the effect of the whisky. As
long as money remains to me to pur-
chase oblivion do not care for luck or
the devil 1 am one of those uncongen-
ial, solitary individuals who retire with
a jug into an obscure place, lock the
door and hide the key from myself. Aft
er have become maniac, fool and
an inanimate brute by turns l emerge
again into the light, more emaciated,
more broken down, one step nearer the
much to be desired rest that comes at
the end for us all A cheerful life, sir,
is it not?"
He turned his faded blue eyes with
the bloodshot corners toward the star
tied artist, who vouchsafed him no re-
ply, and continued:
"Sir, you are saying to yourself: Is
this man seeking to excite my sympathy,
or what is his object? What possible
interest does he think 1 can have in his
grewsome narrative?' Very little, sir, in
deed. Only it will afford some excuse
for me perhaps for the performance Of
the most heartless and despicable act Of
my whole accursed existence.
Mr.. Dye uttered the last words saw
agely and vehemently. His speech in
deed sounded so much like the mutter-
ings of a broken intellect that Maxey
involuntarily drew back pace or two.
Mr.. Dye did not heed him. He went
on:
"You behold in me, Mr.. MaXey, a
man who believes in remorseless des-
tiny-a destiny which may be as obnox-
ious to the victim as a bed of torture,
as plain before him as the monday sun,
and which still he cannot escape. He
sees the little steps which lead to the
great end in the distance presenting
themselves one after the other before
him, and he knows that if he fails to
take any one of them the whole end
would be changed, but still he never
fails to take them. Sir, that is my life
my religion, if you will. And so I
am here, impelled by the same inexora-
BILE fate which has pursued me from the
first, and which will pursue me to the
close, to bring a shame and an unhap-
piness into the midst of joy"
"Well, sir, what is it? am quite
prepared by this time for anything, Mr.
Dye do not fear anything you can
say"
"Sir, you are too confident of that.
When 1 last came you asked me for
proofs of the shameful story that l told
you then. l have brought them"
There was utter silence, and then
Maxey advanced step and said in a
quiet voice:
well, sir, 1 am waiting for you" +"
Mr.. Dye did not look up. He put his
trembling hand solemnly into the breast
of the threadbare coat and drew forth a
little package of paper. Maxey took it
and saw that it consisted of two docu-
ments of a legal aspect, which were
variously superscribed, Affidavit of
Mary Stephenson" and Affidavit Of
George Stephenson.
Maxey compressed his lips and looked
no further.
"Ah," murmured the wretched Dye,
eff you only knew what I have pur.
chased by placing these accursed papers
in your hand, you would not think Of
me hereafter with so much bitterness. y
"Mr. Dye" said Maxey suddenly,
"the time to drop this mask Of yours il
fully ripe"
The somber man half turned in hi!
chair.
"Sir, fail to understand you"
"No? Suppose that were to tell yor
that know who sent you here?"
The words had a marked effect on Mr.
Dye. He instantly completed that which
the former question had caused him t.
begin and turned wholly about in hi
chair, facing the artist with an ash.
countenance. AS he did SO his eye fel
upon the picture.
Maxey noticed his sudden silence
though he imperfectly understood tn
cause.
Mr.. Dye sat in his chair without mo
tion, his faded eyes wide open, looking
intently at the portrait on the easel.
There would have been complete 81
lence in the room but for the ticking O
the clock on the mantel, the escape Q
the burning gas, the distant sound Q
voices in the rear chamber.
Then Mr. Dye arose, steadying him
self on the chair back with his shakin
hand-arose, and turning his eyes O.
Maxey held out his free arm in ques
tioning way toward the easel.
"What is the matter? Are you ill?
don't understand you. That is pictur
my wife sketched. "
A terrible trembling came upon eI
cry portion of the somber mans frame
He cried out in hoarse voice:
1.-THE Jews face! The Jews face"
There was rush like the breath {
unseen wings from over the darkene
river. The ghostly hand raped at tt
window, and Mr.. Dye fell down upo
the floor.
TcoNTNUED.l