Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1897-05-20


CHAPTER XI-(Continued)
Earth. sky, the very stars and moon aro
Iwhirlng madly about me. With laAt
effort at elf-command / seize Darby.
''Go in, child" cry, hurriedly; go in
and wait 1 will be there in a moment
| forget Sir Ralph. / forget everything.
i only remember that am here face to
face with my false and perjured lover,
and that will have the truth from him
lat any cost Darby obeys. l go close to
the little stone bar that separates the two
balconies.
"Now," l say, looking at the face that
lis as white as my own, 'tell me why you
have deceived me so.'
His eyes meet mine. Oh, the sweetness
and the misery Of that remembered look!
The hands of time go back. We are boy
and girl once more-lovers, loving and
beloved. We are in the school room at
home. My heart leaps in mad and fierce
defiance of the present and the future,
;claiming once again the old rapture and
the old belief.
Then l hear his voice, and grow calm,
as with the icy chill of death.
Il never deceived you,' he says, and
his face does not blanch nor his eyes sink.
Where is no guilt or shame in the eyes that
meet my own, but they are stormy with
sudden anger, and that very anger seems
ito claim kinship with all my memories Of
him. ga woman has always the right
ito insult a man if she chooses" he says;
~ thought the right to reproach lay on
my side. Heaven knows [ have ragged at
you, stormed at you, hated you at times;
but
but she?'' / persist. "Where is She
that woman who stole you from me
that woman who stands between u.s.!
"Be slent!' he cries in a sullen, stormy
way. Don't take her name OH your lips.
How you have heard of her at all passes
my comprehension. 1t is a short story
enough if you care to hear You know
where l lodged. There were only l and
another fellow in the house, and the
lady-who kept it represented herself as
a widow. l told you that long ago, when
I first went there-did | not?"
YES" | say stonily.
"She-she was only an adventuresS,
he goes on, sudden streak of crimson
showing itself on his cheek, "and she
took IA sort of fancy to me. 1t became
n nuisance at last, and | left. Then she
followed me to Boulogne. That is all
the plain facts as they stand. OF course
you'll say I'm not blameless; fellow
never is blameless when woman throws
herself at his head but | give you my
sword of honor | never encouraged her
in fact, / disliked her rather than other
wise"
'And have you-married her?" | ask
abruptly.
married her! Great heavens-no! Do
won take me for n fool ,JOanT'
, Then 1 turn sick and dizzy; / see be-
fore me shipwreck, sorrow, desolation-
only these; and few moments before life
had looked so fair and full of peace. A
few moments! Why, it seemed as f years
had passed since l had stepped out on
that balcony, and gazed with raptured
vision on the white SHOWS and cleaning
waters.
$50 that is-all," l say nrokenly, find
ing voice at last. "Then she must have
stopped your letters and mine. She took
you from me, whether with your will or
mot. Absence is hard test. | thought
ut too hard for you. I-oh, Yorke-Yorke,
what you have cost me!''
DO not say that!' he cries with the
old passion in his voice. Remember /,
too, have suffered thinking you changed,
for-oh Joan, how can | explain to you!
Ia folly like that does not change a mans
heart-nay, rather it sickens and disguSts
him, and makes him turn with deeper
longing to the pure love of a pure woman.
And so turned to you and prayed to you,
and YOU gave me only silence. But now
Fate has been kind-kinder than | de-
serve. For you look at me with remem-
herring eyes. and IL think | never loved
you so we'll as now. Dear look at me as
you used to look-say you forgive me
say"
ooh, hush-hush!' cry bitterly. "Is it
POSSIBLE you don't know-that you have
not heard"
'sHeard what?" he says, and his lips
grow white, his face changes back to the
wrathful storm-lit face know so well.
"That / unmarried
He does not speak. He does not even
move He simply stands there and looks
at me with look / cannot bear-a look
that makes me shudder and cover back in
very terror and long to hide myself from
sight of men-from every sound and sign
of human life.
There comes step on the bare waxed
door of the inner room-a step, and a
CHEEKY voice that rings out in frank and
kindly accents:
"Why, Joan-Joan, my dear-where are
you? Star-gazing still? Don't you know
dinner is waiting?'
My hands drop; look up ut Yorke's
face; see the lurid flash that leaps into
his eyes, and a worse terror seizes me
than ever thrilled my heart in all the pangs
and fears of it's beating life.
$50 it is my uncle!' he says in a voice
dow and deep as thunder Course him!"
Then stars and moon faded suddenly
from my sight. and amidst an awful dark
mess felt myself falling-falling falling
whittier, l neither knew nor cared.
CHAPTER Mi.
When I wake up / find myself lying
dressed in bed. Only my bodice has been
removed and rests in chair. 1t is even