Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1897-06-24
CHAPTER XXVI.-lCoNTMuEDl

IL was 1 WnOm you saw '''iN'
was saved by a miracle almost
81, too, was saved she sobbed. But
I scarcely know how. After you dis
appeared from me, / found myself with
two men on q rock, where we fingered
miserably till, by Gods mercy, we
were rescued. But | will tell you all
byoand-by. Amos, | have suffered
much--oh, so much Have you no
word of love for me, after all these
years of misery?"
She chung to me, and would have
embraced me, but flung her from me
with bitter laugh.
what would you have said to MI
Druce?' / cried savagely, III he stood
before you instead Of me? You be-
IieVed me to be dead! So did | be-
lleve you to be-and hoped 1t, ay, hop
cd it! A new misery has come into my
life, when l vainly hoped that my
troubles were at an end. Love for
you! You killed love, and poisoned my
heart to you years and years ago, when
you betrayed and deserted me. TIL
then, cherished you in my heart OF
hearts, and was true and faithful to
you, as | vowed to be. But you i"
My passion and my grief almost
ehoked me; but If | had not paused
from that cause, Mabel's attitude
would have arrested further speech.
She had risen from her feet, and was
now standing by the table. Her trem-
bling lips denoted that she needed
some support.
"And you believe the stories that
were circulated about me?" she ex-
claimed in a tone of mingled pride
and despair. "You believe"
81 believe what know to be true"
Eaid interrupting her. II have
heard and discovered enough, and wish
TO hear no more. Had been told 1t
was your face | should have seen to-
1ight when / entered this house. l
would have flown from it as from a
,peStiIence. No words! l tell you again
i will hear nothing further. But came
here for purpose; and for my moth
ar's sake, l will ask you If she lives
and if you know where she Is to be
found"
"She lives" replied Mabel family;
~and know where she is to be
found"
THANK God for that" 1 exclaimed.
you will refuse, suppose, to tell
me where to seek for her"
She was not strong enough to
Bpeak. With heavlng bosom and
'eIenched hands she directed me to the
table by look. Following her gaze,
I saw an envelope on the table, and
written on 1t my mothers name and
the address Of public house.
@'Can l take this?" | asked.
She nodded, but made no further
sign.
There was something heavy in the
envelope. tore 1t open, and took
from it small piece of silver and a
few copper coins, and flung them on
p the table. In the blindness of my
passion, l did not stop to trace the
connection between the addressed en-
'Eelope and the money inclosed.
Before 60" l said with my hand
ON the handle of the door, 81 will tell
you, as is my duty, what you may
have right to know. l see that you
are poor; have money. What 1t is
incumbent upon me to do, as your un-
happy husband, l will debut not for
love. / live in the old cottage. But
do not come yourself, for l will not
look upon your face. Write or send,
Gaying what you require and demand,
and l will forward 1t to you. l recog-
nize your claim upon me as my wife in
the eye of the law. You may not know
that your lover, Mr.. bruce, who sailed
with you in The Rising Sun"-a look
OF amazement flushed into her eyes
but / was in no mood to interpret
aigns-"is dead. He was saved, with
myself and others, in a boat, which
enabled us to reach the shelter of an
Island, where we lived until we were
Cescued a few months ago. He died
there, natural death, saving my SOU
from the commission of crime. Fol
had | seen him, and recognized him
en- life, l should have killed him."
God forgive you, Amos Beecroft,
she murmured, with parched lips, "fol
the base and sinful thoughts thai
would have led you to the crime!"
need forgiveness, but not fol-
that. Another thing. Your child"
my child! Oh God! Yes, yes!" Il
was the mother speaking now, not the
woman.
Lies buried in that lonely island
The poor boy died in my arms"
Am 1 dreaming, or am mad?" sht
muttered, with dazed look. "Tht
poor boy died in your armsW
"And now have but this to say: AT
ter we had found refuge in the island
we happily saved from death a littlt
girl, who, in our exile, grew into fail
womanhood. She is young and pure
and good; and have adopted her al
my daughter. 1t is for her l live, fol
I love her as my own; and it is fol
her sake that l forbid you to com'
to me. She does not know the partic
ritIars of nv unhannv historv-she doe