The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1898-01-09


him by death. Can you think of any
thing more frightful?"
Mr.. Clare is fortunate in having
such a friend"
] "A friend" she repeated. HAS not
my father told you? 1 am his prom
ised wife. Fancy the irony of it. We
! were TO have been married the very
day he was condemned. 1t was my
money and my fathers which defended
him at his trial. and it nearly beggared
US. And now I viii spend the last
penny L can touch to get him free
again"
Captain Kettle coughed once more
1t was upon a question of money that
Mr. Carnegie and 1 split, miss. 1 said
TO him 800 would not work it, and
there's the naked truth. ="
But it must" she cried, sit must
You think US mean, niggardly. But il
is not that; we can raise no more. We
are at the end of our funds. Look
around at this room. Does this look
like riches?"
1t did not. They were in grimy
/ Newcastle lodging, au troisieme. and
at one side of the room the flank of a
/ bedstead showed itself in outline
against a curtain. The paper was torn,
! and the carpet was absent, and from
! the shaft of the stairway came that
/ mingled scent of clothes and fried
I CAAoA4 nA4Ni - lAdlihC ~ Ills ~ pc VI
dwelling.
1 Carnegie himself was faded man of
! 90. His daughter carried the recent
J traces of beauty, but anxiety had lined
! her face, and the pinch of res angustae
! had frayed her gown. All went to adj
vertise the truth of what the girl had
| been saying, and Kettles heart warm
ed towards her. He knew right we'll
! the nip of poverty himself But still
he did not see his way to perform i'm
possibilities, and he lifted up his voice
and said so with glum frankness.
L am not remembering for a minute,
miss he explained, that 1 am a fell
! low with a wife and children dependent
on my earnings; 1 am looking at the
matter as though 1 might be Mr..
Clare'S relative; and l have nothing
new to tell you. A hundred pounds
will not do it, and that is the end of
the matter
The girl wrung her hands and looked
pitifully across at her father.
Well, said Carnegie with a heavy
sigh, Il will scrape up e12O, though
that will force US to go hungry. And
! that is final, captain. If my own neck
depended upon it, l could not lay
hands on more"
Captain Owen Kettles face wore a
/ look Of pain. He was a man of chiv-
alrous instincts; it irked him to dis
/ oblige lady; but the means they Of
fered him were so terribly insufficient
He did not repeat his refusal aloud. but
| his face spoke with eloquent sympa-
thy.
The girl sank into one of the shabby
chairs deSpairingly. IF you fail me-
SIR she said, then 1 have no hope"
Kettle turned away, still lingering
the furnished badge on his cap, and
stared drearily through the grimy win
III ell I11
Carnegie broke it.
Other men answered the advertise
ment," he suggested.
L know they did, his daughter said;
and I read their letters; and l read
/ Captain Kettles: and if there is one
man who could help US out OF all those
that answered, he is here now in this
room. Ny heart went out to him at
once when 1 saw his application. I had
never heard of him before, but when l
read the few pages he sent, it came to
me that 1 knew him intimately from
then onWards, and that he and no
ether in all the world could do the
service which we want. Sir she said,
addressing the little sailor directly, L
learned from that letter that you made
poetry: and l felt that the romance of
this matter would carry you on where
any other man with merely commercial
instincts would fail"
Then you like poetry, miss?'
Il write it, she said, for the mag
azines, and sometimes it gets into
print.
Would you mind shaking hands
with me?" asked Captain Kettle.
Il want to do so.' she answered, IF
you will Let that mean the signing of
our contract"
Captain Kettle held out his fist. Put
ii there miss said he. THE French
government IS a Jumping big concern,
hut I've bucked against d government
before and come out top side, and by
James tn do it again. You stay at
home, miss, and write poetry, and get
the magazines to print it, instead OF
those rotten adventure yarns they're so
fond of, and you'll be doing Great Brit
ain a large service. What the people
in this country need is nice rural poe
try to tell them what sunsets are like,
and how corn grows, and all that, and
not cut-throat stories they might fill
out for themselves from the morning
newspapers if they only knew the men
and the ground.
If I can only know you're at home
here, miss. doing that, l can set about
this other matter with a cheerful heart
l don't think the money will be of
much good; but you may trust me to
get out to French Guiana somehow,
even if I have to work my way there
before the mast; and I'll collar hold of
Mr.. Clare for you and deliver him on
board a British ship in the best repair
which circumstances will permit. You
mustn't expect me to do impossibilities. !
miss: but I'm working now for a lady
who writes poetry for the magazines,
and you'll see me go that near to them
you'll probably be astonished''