The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936, 1896-10-09

| know she was admired, respected and
prosperous; she is none the less my
| fathers deadliest foe."
"What is to be done?" asked the per-
| picked viscount. 'Dacre's friend will
wait upon you tonight"
''What-a duel? A mode of settle
mept as despicable as i. is abhorrcnt!
Well, well, it matters not. 1 cannot
| avoid it; you would all believe me a
coward If refused; so Will stand and
let him shoot me, for wrong my own
soul so much as to raise deadly weap-
| on against the life the Creator gave, I
will not. Let him shoot; it is meet the
son should perish as well as the father,
| through Annabel Marston's means"
The kind-hearted Somerset was real
ly grieved and troubled.
rs there no way to avoid it? Dacre
demanded the reason for such insulting
| conduct; can not hint something that
will satisfy him?"
You may say to that woman,
could not take her hand, because am
Paul Kirkland's son, who knew Anna
bel Marston of Lincolnshire in days
gone by. Mark her face when you speak
the name"
Throughout the next day Walter was
in no enviable state of mind. ALI things
looked gloomy and threatening. The
sorrowful fate before EleaEor-the
mystery of the motive that should make
her thus voluntarily immediate herself
upon the altar of duty-the hard strug
gle and desolate, loveless life before
himself-the bitter resentment for his
fathers wrongs-all disheartened and
dismayed him. He was in no mood to
grieve when his friend returned saying
Dacre would only be satisfied with
full apology. The lady, he said, remem-
bered seeing once or twice in Lincoln
shire a drawing-master named Kirk
land, but was not aware how that
should affect Signor vernoni's conduct
in the least
Let him shoot dozen times if it will
comfort him any," said Walter, sarcas-
tically. 81 can't say but shall be the
greater gamer by the operation. l will
leave him an explanation of her once
or twice. Go back, and let him fix the
place and time for the heroic deed. I
quiet, be sure, as the best target he ever
shot against Life has no charms; let
aim send me out as quick as possible"
What would all London say to hear
this!' cried the viscount in despair.
"Signor Vermont, the worshiped, petted
artist, already crowned in youth with
the laurel wreath, ready to throw away
his life so recklessly. All, my friend,
might hint at more powerful reason
for you to seek escape from this. Lady
Eleanor Collinwood, our pride and star,
before whom so many plead in vain,
looks upon you alone with favoring
eyes. Will you forsake that enviable
position?"
"Hushv' interrupted Walter sternly.
''No more! Go at once and settled this
wretched businessI'
The viscount left him, and Walter
flung himself upon the lounge and tried
to sleep to escape the maddening tu-
multi of thought. The effort was as
vain as if the soft damask had been
lined with thorns. Then he rose and
paced to and fro, two hours or more,
when his errand boy handed him a
brief line from Somerset
"To-morrow, at eight in the morning,
at Blackheath.'
He read the line two or three times
and then said aloud:
"And this, then, is the end of all my
high hopes, my unceasing endeavors-
to die in a duel! I must see Eleanor
again; she need not know it is fare
we'll interview, but it will be consola-
tion to me-possibly to her also-if the
worst happens"
ITO BE CoNTINUED.D