Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1896-08-20
CHAPTER vI,--tCoxTMuEpd

ness for saying SOL coulu lorbl'o'
could do more; could persuade mysell
that this strong-willed man Lad forceu
her to fly with him perhaps half against
Aer wish could believe that she was
unhappy, that she was penltent, that
she loved me still. l could do more
than forgive, could take her--l should
be forced to take her-again 10 my
heart; even to trust her, and be proud OF
her glorious beauty. Yes, / could 40
this-after had seen Eustace Grant iy-
ing lileless at my feet, Weak as was
1t could not be until then! .
Where was he? Where was sho!
Were they together? turned again 10
the letter. It gave me no Information
as to the writer's whereabouts, me
paper and the envelope we're plalni
the latter bore the London postmarK'
It was creased, which told me IL hau
been sent under cover, to be posted IN
London. Sent to whom? The receipt OF
this scrap of paper worked great
change in me. If | had ever been APP
proaching that state in which man ac-
cepts the inevitable, 1t lifted me out Oh
II.
It spurred me on to make fresh eXer-
tions to discover the retreat OF the iu-
gitives. That letter-the letter written
by her carried next to my heart day
and night. False as my vile mad Deen
TO me | loved her and there were times
when recalled her sweet face and mar
veled how evil could have lurKeu De-
meath such mask.
/ left Herstal Abbey and took up my
quarters in town. There should De
ready to start on the moment heard
where Grant was to be found But
somehow was beginning to think that
our meeting would be brought about by
pure chance. London is the place where
all chance meetings occur. There are
few Englishmen who do not visit the
capital, either at shorter or longer IN
tervals. Something must bring Grant
there; so waited and hoped
Chance, pure chance, brought ABOUT
what I longed for, but in the way eX-
nected. l did not stumble across my
foe in the street; did not hear chance
mention Of his name, and so hit upon
some one who knew him. lfounu IuS-
tace Grant in this wise:
This year book, which at once TOOK
the public's fancy immensely, made its
appearance. 1t was but novel, YET a
work the depth and research OF WINCH
combined with its pathOs and humor'
arrested all readers attention. People
were curious to know who was the au-
thor. The title page bore one OF those
names which strike every one as pelng
a nom-de-plume. Perhaps the book was
mot the less read because certain
amount of mystery was kept up as TO
who had really written IT,
Sometimes, not often, since that crush
ing blow had fallen upon me, read
what happened to come in my way inns
norticular book was one which came IN
NV way. l began to read 1t, and am
bound to say that the opening chapters
we're written by SO mastery hand
that I at once experienced something
of the general interest which the tale
had called forth. But before had read
II half through, my interest and excite
ment were such as no author has by his
merits ever awakened in any reader l
gave a fierce cry of triumph. threw
the hook from me as II 1t were rep
tile. l had found Eustace Grant!
For one chapter Of that book con-
tanned an account Of the hero's journey
ing through part Of Switzerland; and
the account was the same as Grant had
given his auditors on the night | first
met him, and hated and mistrusted
him. Several Of the most amusing and
out-of-the-way incidents which he then
related. and which were sufficiently
droll and strange to impress them
selves on my memory, were In these
nages once more narrated. Eustace
Grant was the author Of the successful
book. / thanked my memory, when
had in a second brought his adventures
back to my mind; and memory brought
back more than this.
1t brought back Viola, listening with
smiles on her face to her guardians las
she called HIM amusing recital. 1t
brought back the days when / wooed
her; the day when told her my love;
the day when she was mine, as
thought, forever; the day, the black
day. when she fed-when for hours and
hours 1 waited and would not believe
the truth. 1t brought back the last
two wretched years Of my life. 1t
brought back all Of which Eustace
Grant Mad robbed me, and I laughed
the laugh of a devil when l thought
that the time was at hand when he
should pay me for his act.
trod his book under my foot. Hypo'
critic, who could write Of honor, virtue
and truth, yet act as he had acted
Well, his time has come at last!
But now to find him-to know where
must go, to stand face to face will
MIN! Tho next morning called on thu
publishers of the book. told them
had reason for believing that its au
thor was az old friend of mine. WoulC
they tell me his right name?
They could not They believed h
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