Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1894-09-27


betray your husband, the rest is Q
matter OF detail and there is u miser
able sameness in the details, DO yCl
think anything you can say-oaths
tear5-will ever convince me that you
did not come here on purpose to mee'
that man, or that he came here II
preach you a sermon upon your duty
to me?"
"Gilbert, as / stand here before God
who secs and hears me- have told you
the truth. We have made q sad mis-
take in marrying; there are few things
in which we sympathizo: even OH
great sorrow has not brought us nearer
together; but If you will only be pa
tient, II you will be kind and true tt
me, | will still try even more earnestly
than have done yet to make you O
goad wife, to make your home life
happy"
She came to him with q sad sweet
smile and laid her hand gently on his
shoulder, looking up at him with ear
nest eyes, full of truth and purity,
could he but have understood their
meaning.
Ala5l to his begged, brutal nature
purity like this was incomprehensible,
Facts were against his wife, and he
had no belief in her to sustain him
against the facts. The lion of fable
might recognize Una's purity and lie
down at her feet, but Gilbert Sinclair
was good deal more like the lion of
reality, by no means magnanimous
beast, who waits till he can pounce
upon his enemy alone in q solitary
corner and has prudent dread OF
numbers.
AS the little hand a'ighted tremu-
lousy on his breast, Gilbert Sinclair
raised his clenched fist.
LET me alone" he cried. you've
made your CHI ice.
And then came a word which had
never before been spoken in Constance
Sinclair's herring, but which some in
stinct Of her womqn's heart told her
meant deepest infamy.
She recoiled from him with a little
cry, and ,en fell like log at his feet.
Lest that brutal word should too
weakly express an outraged husband
wrath, Mr. Sinclair had emphasized it
with blow That muscular fit of his,
trained in many an encounter with pro-
fessors of the noble art of self-defense,
had been driven straight at his wife's
forehead and nothing but the mans
blind fury prevented the blow being
mortal.
In intention at least, he had been
for the moment murderer. His
breath came thick and fast as he stood
over that lifele $ form.
Have | killed err" he asked him
self, She deserves no better fate
But | had rather kill him.
CHAPTER XVIII.
CYPRIANs VISITOR.
Sir Cyprian Davenant left March
brook an hour after his interview with
Constance Sinclair. He sent his man
home with the portmanteaUs and gum
cases, and went straight to his club,
where he dined. 1t was between eight
and nine when he walked to his cham
bers through the snowy streets. The
walk through the rough weather suited
his present temper. He cou d have
walked many mile across Yorkshire
moor that night in the endeavor to
walk down the anxious thoughts that
crowded upon his mind.
His interview with COnstance-like
all such meetings between those whom
Fate has irrevocably pal ted-had
deel ened the gloom of his soul, and
added to the bitterness of his regrets.
1t had brought the past near to him.
and made the inevitable harder to bear
than it had seemed Yesterday.
He had seen all the Id loveliness in
the innocent face, changed though it
was. He had heard a the old music
in the unforgotten voice. To what
end? That brief greeting across the
iron CRATE of Destiny prison-house
only made it more agonizing to think
of the long future in which these two,
who had so met and touched hands
across the gulf, must live their sep
arated lives in silent patience.
The snow lay thick in the quiet turn.
ing out Of the Strand. There was a
hanson standing at the corner by Sir
Cyprian'5 chambers, the horse hanging
his head with detected air under his
whiten d rug, the man stamping up
and down the pavement, and Mapping
his arms acro;s his chest. The cab
must have been waiting some time,
Sir Cyprian thought idly.
His chambers were on the first floor,
large and lofty rooms facing the river.
Since his inheritance of Colonel Gryf-
fms fortune he mad INDUCED himself
with that one luxury dear to men who
love books, a well-arrang d library.
This bachelor pied-G-terre suited him
better than lodgings in more fashion
able quarter 1t was central, and out
OF the way of his fashionable acquaint-
ances an ineligible feature which was
to his mind an attraction.
Sir Cyprian admitted himself with
his lat key, and Went up the dimly
lighted staircase He ened the outer
door of his library, within which mass
i've oak barrier there hung a heavy
crimson cloth curtain, shutting out
noise and draught. This curtain had
been dragged aside, and left hanging
in a heap at one end OF the rod, in q
very different style from the usual neat
arrangement of folds left by the mid
dle-aged valet
L ITO lOOlli Wdo ulLlOoU LII utI hllGSS, lOL
the fire had burned low upon the
hearth. There was just light enough
to show Sir Cyprian figure sitting by
the fire in brooding attitude, alone,
and in the dark.
who's that" asked Sir Cyprian.
The man started up, big man, tall
and broad shouldered, whom for the
first moment Sir Cyprian took for a
stranger
Il should have thought you would