The progressive farmer. [volume] (Winston, N.C.) 1886-1904, 1896-09-01
CHAPTER VI.
A CRIME.

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fic and intense. Did he love her-his
sweet wild Rose2 Yes, he loved her,
and loved her sincerely. But did he
love her sufficiently we'll to give up
wealth and position for her dear sake,
enter the world a poor man and fight
the battle of life for here Did he9
Again and again her sweet face rose
before his mental vision, and the plead
ing look he had seen in her beautiful
eyes as she uttered those last words Of
farewell-"I love you, Hugh; 1 love
you"-were indelibly impressed upon
his memory. Could he ever forget
theme No! Never !-though he might
live a thousand years! They would
follow him to his grave-even in death
they would be with him! He halted
inNhis walk, took from his bosom q
little package and unfolded it. A gol
den curl fell from the wrapper to the
floor. He picket it up. His hand
trembled. Laying it upon the palm
of his left hand, with tender, loving
touch he stroked the silken strands. He
pressed it to his lips. Ny Rose-my
darling-hoW a I give you up! How
can 1 say good bye to you and the
bright, happy hopes 1 have cherished
a fragment of Rsong that be had some
where heard came to his mind with
startling force
"Loue is a fouer that bloometh but to rcttler,
4 star Of hope that rises but to set"
"Can this be true3" he asked; "can
it9-Rose, my Rosey" A groan deep
and sincere burst from his lips. His
agitation was great. Again he walked
the floor. To and fro he went. Hour
after passed by. But still the storm
within his bosom raged-unabated.
Not until the gray light of approach
ing dawn began to peep in through
the half closed shutters did he-once
for all-decide upon the course he
would pursue. The battle was over
He went to the window and threw open
the shutters. In the faint morning
light one would hardly recognize in
the drawn, haggard visage that look
out from that window the happy and
handsome face Of Hugh Caravan of
yesterday. The face was no longer
that Of boys but a mans, aged with
sorrow. Within the last few hours
ten years or more seemed to have
passed over his head. He had fought
hard he had struggled nobly -
but which had won the victory-which
money or love?
A gentle tap sounded upon his door.
He crossed the room and opened it.
There stood Maline, his adopted sis
ter.
What is it," he asked, and his voice
was hoarse and unnatural.
CHANGING at his face, she started and
uttered a faint cry.
Hugh! Hugh! Can this be you9"
she asked incredulously.
Certainly, ;" he answered; "who else
do you suppose it is9"
But, Hugh, how changed you look
what is the matter-what has hap
pened9'
Nothing" he answered bruequeIy.
"But-but there must be"
"What do you wants" he interrupted
impatiently.
He hated this girI-this fair, young
creature-the innocent cause of his
sorrow-the barrier that stood between
him and fortune-that separated him
from the n that he loved.
What is it-what do you Want?' he
again asked.
Father is much worse" sho an
swered; he sent me to request you to
come to him at once"
But Hugh, tell me-What is the
matters" she asked.
He made no answer; but brushing
past the bewildered girl, he descended
the stairs and entered the chamber
where his father lay sick. Going to
the bed side, he said:
"Father. you sent for me9"
II did, my son; have you ~decided3"
81 have"
THAT you will marry Maline3"
cit shall be as you wish, my father"
Thank you! my son-thank you!
You will yet live to realize that it was
all for the BEST"
81 hope so, father; from the bottom
of my heart, l hope, that it may be as
you say"
sit will, my son-it will. Have you
spoken to MalineG" he asked.
mot yet"