Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1898-02-02
CHATTER XIII.

me and said that on consideration he
thought it best that my affairs should be
settled first.
I'VE will go to Torwood tomorrow and
tell your father" he added.
viii you Gomez" asked, surprised.
"Of course l will. You will want my
testimony. Besides, that paper never
leaves me until give it to Laurence Est
mere
We started as he suggested by the early
train, and having at last reached Mine
head, took a carriage and posters to carry
US as near to Torwood as they could.
Then dismissing them, we struck across
the moor straight to our destination.
We reached the gate and passed up the
steep garden. There was light burn
ing in the library, and the curtains were
not drawn. l looked through the window
and saw my father at the table reading
Stay one moment" said Rothwell,
who was beside me; don't disturb him
for little while
Perhaps he spoke louder than he in
tended; perhaps my foot grated on the
gravel. My father raised his head, and
rising from his seat, came to the window.
de opened it. ''Who is thereT' he said.
1T is 1, father"
philip, my sen! Who elser'
Lord Rothwell."
was close to the window, my hand
was in my fathers as l spoke. l was
looking eagerly into his face, and won
dered at the strange expression which
crossed it as | told him who my cOmpan-
ion was. He drew his hand from mine.
You are both welcome" he said. Il
will open the door"
In a few seconds l was in his arms.
Then he held out his hand and grasped
Lord Rothwell's. Any fear l might have
felt as to my companion being welcome
was dispeled. The greeting between the
two men was almost affectonate.
Mrs. Lee, soon as she had recovered
from her surprise, was ordered to prepare
the best meal she could. Then we went
to our rooms to remove the stains of
travel.
The meal we sat down to was n silent,
sorry affair. My father had already dined.
and ROthwell, in spite of his protestations
of hunger, soon appeased his appetite.
had scarcely spoken word. He sat
strUking his long gray mustache or his
pointed beard. l felt sure that my adv1-
cate's hastiness had damaged my cause.
At last my pangs of hunger were salts
fed. My father pushed the claret to Lord
Rothwell. His guest declined it.
''In your library with you," replied
Rothwell, with meaning.
"You are resolvedT''
Quite ..s--...
z You cannot iDsult me. 1t is no
try" nse
My father rose, with dark frown ~
his brow. / could scarcely believe him
to be the man who few minutes before
had pleaded, as it were, for the love which
was his by right and gratitude.
Come, then" he said, shortly and i'm
petuously. He turned on his heel, and in
a discourteous manner passed out of the
room.
/ half rose from my chair. Il had bet
ter be with you" I said.
Rothwell pushed me back.
Stay where you are until l want you
and, Philip, listen: If ever you say your
prayers, pray that nothing may make this
night fearful memory"
He left the room, leaving me in a state
of wonder. There was an excitement and
agitat ton about both him and my father
which the circumstances of the case could
not account for. Lord Rothwell had now
gone to plead my cause, but l was begin
ming to think diplomacy was not his .orte.
He had commenced by putting my father
in a rage. Well, l must trust to myself
in future.
| lit a cigar. Then, tired with the days
travel, l fell asleep in my chair and slept
for two hours. 1t was well | did, for |
was to get little sleep that night.
The dining room door was open, so when
some one turned the handle of the library
door l awoke. l heard Lord Rothwells
deep yoice-it seemed to come through a
dream.
You promise on your honorw
It'll you return-I promise on my hon.
or"
| started to my feet. l heard the II.
brary door shut and found Rothwell
standing before me. The eyes of the great
six-foot man were positively full of tears.
The laughing reproach for his long alb
sence died on my lips. l gazed at him
and knew that his emotion was due TO no
commonplace cause.
He took both my hands in his. but he
spoke not a word.
"Wbat is it?" l cried. "Is anything the
matterT
Still he said nothing, but looked at me
with his true, loving eyes.
He must have believed you" l said.
."rhe evidence was unimpeachable.'
He did believe; he was overwhelmed.
Philip"
He is Just man." said. He blames
himself for lending too eager an ear to
common report. He is grieved, of course.
but glad that a wrong is righted.'
Still Lord Rothwell held my hands
still he looked at me.
He is convinced, Philip. Laurence
Estmere knows that his wife is innocent"
Laurence Estmere? My father, yor
mean
Your father, l mean. Philip, Philip!
Do you know why l have loved you as
son? Why l knew that it was your des-
tiny to work out this thing? Why bade
you spare nothing-eyen honor; stop short
of nothing. save crime, to learn the truth
Shall tell you? Can you bear it?''
| could scarcely breathe, much less
speak. NV eyes were riveted on his.
Because" he said, you are the eldest
son of her | loved-of him | loved. Be
cause your father, William Norris, is the
man you have condemned and blamed
Laurence Estmere!'
The truth came to me: it came like
food-such n flood as no brain could hold
.r withstand. In one second, or tenth o.
a second, the whole of my life seemed
jostled together. l saw and knew every
thing. My state was not one of aston
ishment. 1t was simply that of one upon
wnOm "a sudden revelation bursts. DOUBT
I had none. / saw, knew and remember
ed everything. The truth and the train
of thought which rushed after it was too
much. Physically, and, believe, mental
1y, l was strong man; but this was more
than body or mind could bear. For the
first, and, l hope, the last, time in my
life l tainted.
CHAPTER XIV.
struggled back to consciousness and
found Lord RotAweu standing over me,