Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1896-05-07

playmates once, you know, and In the
memory Of the dear old time. before
sorrow came, I ask you to visit me
here. l shall be unhappy until you
come. VIII you be kind?
"LYNDE GRAHAM"
This little note cost Agnes a sleepless
night Of weeping and prayer. But
when the morning came 1t found her
calm. She said nothing to anyone OF
her intention, but toward noon she
dressed herself In her plainest
clothes and walked down to Portlea.
The jailer gave her access at once.
She stood alone with Lynde Graham.
His face glowed, his breath came
quick. II he had followed the dictates
OF his heart, he would have sprung for
ward and folded her in his arms. But
he remembered that he was felon, and
restrained himself. Agnes went for
ward, downcast and confused, and put
her hand in his. The consciousness OF
her love, the love he had never asked
for, made her timid and shrinking.
"You see have come, Lynde."
II do. I thank you for 1t, and also
for calling me Lynde. o Agnes, 1t
seems so much like the old times"
"The dear old timesw she said softly.
20 Lynde, Lynde" And all the terri
BILE change that had come rushed over
her mind, and she burst into tears.
He smoothed the hair on her fore
head, his hand trembling, his voice
hoarse and unsteady
Hush, my child! 1t is all in Gods
hands. Cannot we trust him?"
eyes, have. do. But, o Lynde!
only three little months, and then"
She stopped. She could not finish the
sentence.
"And then shall have passed away"
he said solemnly. 1T will be better,
perhaps, but have just begun to learn
how sweet life might be!'
"Lynde, want you to tell me that
you are innocent. I know that you
are. have never felt doubt Of that,
but I want to hear you say it. 1t will
be to me great satisfaction"
"You are good to trust me, Agnes. I
am innocent. I would sooner have
died than harm should have come to
Marina. Is that enough?"
Eyes, your simple word Is all ask.
am content" .
~ thank you yet again for your trust
In me. But have never expressed to
you my gratitude for the little more Of
life given me through your means.
know all the risk you ran, and all the
sacrifice you made, and my heart is
full of gratitude"
He leaned his head over hers, and
lifted her face-their lips almost
touched. The temptation that beset
him was almost too strong to be re-
sisted. II he could kiss her once, he
thought, the remembrance would be so
sweet he should forget all that might
come in recalling 1t. But he would not.
He was a man convicted and sentenced
to death for the crime Of murder-his
very touch was pollution.
"Lynde," she said, II could not have
you die. Why do / not feel the same
terrible anxiety now, 1 wonder?
know that this time cannot save you,
and yet feel no fear. seem to cast 1t
all out of my mind"
He looked at her curiously. She
seemed like one who saw far away in
the future something so bright and
beautiful that its glory pierced even
the midnight gloom Of the unhappy
present. And then, the glow faded,
the light went out Of her eyes. She
saw only the dreary prison cell, and
dropping her forehead on her folded
arms, she sobbed unrestrainedly.
Lynde Graham half lifted his arms to
take her into them, but refrained.
20 Agnesw he said, bitterly, III I
only couldl If had right to comfort
you! But you understand what stands
between us!
She understood him fully, then. The
color leaped into her cheeks-she took
her hands gently away from him.
"Lynde, / must go now. Sometime I
will come again. Good-by."
.
About this time a very singular cir
cumstance occurred at the Rock
Quito, the great dog that had been
Marina's, had been absent from home
ever since the marriage of Mr.. Tren-
holme. A friend of that gentlemen, a
sporting character, had borrowed the
dog to take away with him into the
wilds of New Hampshire, on hunting
tour he was making with some brother
sportsmen; and now having returned,
he brought Quito home. From the
very first, the dog behaved strangely.
Mr.. Trenholme thought he had been so
long away that he had forgotten his
old friends; but that was not the case,
for he greeted Agnes and the house
keeper in the most cordial canine man
ner. But he was restless, and Ill at
ease. He smelled Of the floors and the
furniture, and his ears and tail were
erect in an instant at the slightest
sound. He refused to eat, and would
not lie down in his old place on the mat
in the library, but sat in watchful at
titude on the threshold Of the sitting
room Helen FuItnn hogan to make