The Banner-Democrat. [volume] (Lake Providence, East Carroll Parish, La.) 1892-current, 1898-08-06
gS0sa AAEES AzZ@lSSe'

eh0 o'OAStOWH, ll-hopI BdrueD, ana re-
garded her much with the angry glare
Of an enemy.
NO, you don'tl" he said. where did
your Speak! Have they guessed his
tered to himself
Il got the namc from letter-a lot
ter from Mr.. Marston himself" explain
ed Beatrice.
"Oh!" muttered the man. "Fll guar
| antee he never told you to use that
name hereabouts, all the same. Rails
ton, grill Do you understand Never
whisper Marston again, If you're friends
of ours.
Can see him?"
Can you see who2"
"Mr. Mar-Mr. Ralston3 He sent
| for me-"
HE did?"
Yes. Take me to him. He will tell
You it Is all right.
The man. studied bit. He relocked
the gate and made sure that no one was
lurking about the place. Then taking
an enormous bunch OF keys from his
pocket. he led the way to the house.
A massive, gloomy structure, the care
he manifested in penetrating the doubly
locked portals, indicated q Jail or a
castle OF defense. 1t was richly fur
nished within, but the closed and barred
windows and chill pervading each
apartment made the Anticipated man
sion seem somber, gloomy, and uninvit-
ing In the extreme.
You walt here"
Beatrice's guide pointed surlily TO q
al Al To-,
appeared through door at its other
end.
There was the low hum of converse
ton in the adjoining apartment Her
eyes glowing like two sinister stars of
light, Beatrice glided noiselessly to the
threshold Of the door: that had just
closed noiselessly on her companion.
Her ear bent, she strove to translate
the gruff, explanatory accents of the
man, the sharp, guerulous, excited
tones Of his companion.
When the door again opened, how
ever, with the grace and agility of a
panther she had regained the chair.
Go In, nodded the keeper, and the
door opened and closed after her, usher
ing her into roomy apartment, and
leaving her face to face with her fate
Half reclining in an invalid chair was
thin, white-haired man. She studied
his working face from beneath her veil;
she noted the nervous tension OF brain
and bo1y, for he was almost painting
with excitement, his eyes were keenly
alive with unconcealed suspense.
My steward tells me you come here
with letter." spoke the master Of the
mansion, In tones scarcely audible from
emotion.
YES" murmured Beatrice.
Il have written but one letter-it was
to one have not seen for years.
your daughter, Alice Edna Ralston?
am she. Father"
The plot. the fraud, the false assump-
ton of the fair schemer was revealed at
last. She had determined to personate
her dead friend and schoolmate; and
the stolen letter had well equipped her
for the cruel imposture.
"My child"
She had sprung forward at that wild,
yearning cry. Not heart-throb OF
pity for the fond, deluded old man, soul
hungry for the love and sympathy of his
| long absent child stirred her heart
only fierce, covetous Joy and triumph.
His real daughter was dead, knowl-
edge of that fact. in his evident critical
condition Of health, might kill him.
Surely, 1t was mercy to step into hel
place, to solace the last days Of dying
man, to benefit by a fortune that, else,
would go to strangers or sordid com.
panions in his inexplicable exile.
She knew she was safe in telling the
story she had framed, and that circum.
stances would carry out her claims. She
ch hn loft oh kod r<N fror
| Edna; she told how she and her guide
had been overtaken by the storm at the
broken bridge. He had persisted, she
had escaped, and she showed the news.
paper containing the account OF the
double tragedy, unconsciously portray.
ing what had really transpired, little
| dreaming that Edna Deane Of the past
! the real Alice EDNA Marston, or Ralston
had not gone down In that weird swir
| OF waters.
But there was much to learn. Hel
path was yet one of pitfalls. and sht
/ must be secretive, ana yet draw out the
secrets OF the unsuspecting old mar
who accepted her unreservedly as his
own child, blinded by clever falsehoods
the changes OF years, and her circum
stantial narration Of events he knew K
when you enter this house., he said
you close a door on the past never t.
be opened. Poor Rodney! he died IL
bringing you to me. He was my bes
friend. All these years, amid my i'm
prisonment, my fugitive wanderings, h
has been true to me. He alone knew
where you had been placed. Now, un
der q new name, you come to share my
loneliness. Fear mott 1t will only be fo
few brief years. Then, mistress o
my fortune, you can go forth into tn
world and enjoy the liberty denied me.
Father, do not understand. muir
INJURED the false daughter.
do not try 10. An innocent man,
have yet been called upon to suffer tn,
penalty of crime unjustly laid to m,
charge. Even now, am a fugitiv,
from Justice Hunted down, rewar,
upon my recapture. Isought this SO
cluded spot to die in peace. Here W,
will live in quiet oontentment. your low
and care the -solace Of my decllnin,
years. Are you not content with that
Alice, my chilis'
Yes. murmured Beatrice, since yo'
will 1t so.s
Why not? Life here, surrounded b,
every luxury, would not b. SO arduoul
that she could not find some enjoymen
| in it, and later oni--her eyes glowet
with sinister triumph, there was
farther pot to carry out, there was Ray
mond Marshall to think OF, the man sh,
was determined to win, come wha
might.
| Imperfectly understanding the vagu'