The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1899-11-18

eHCellent COHlIOII WlJHuuI you!
Sir David could restrain himself no
longer; his fine manners, which were
but a surface polish after oil, went to
the winds.
You vlxeni" he cried, with an oath
Betty grew very pale, but she faced
him, her eyes full on his.
ut is well for you, sir, that my cousin
is not here!" she said, haughtily.
your cousin! Aha, that is 1t, is II,
my lady! SO you've been brought up
to be his wife, eh? Stap me! 'Tls n
fine fortune for the boy and plan well
contrived!"
"Silence, sirl" and her tone was such
as she might have used to a dsobedient
dog. "You are craven cur to speak
thus! You would not dare so far in
my cousins presence!"
would l not, mistress? Would I
not? Show me the man that David
Noakes dare not speak his mind to!
/ say that all this contrivance shall go
for nauEht! You will not marry me,
mistress, but 1 say that you shall not
marry young John Drury! On that I'll
wager my fortune. stap my vitals!"
"Or wager its mortgages sir!
"Gad's life, you need have estate to
balance that cursed tongue!" he cried
out in q violence OF fury. Mark YOU
mistress, what you have said, and re-
member it on that day which is coming
when YOU will wish that your tongue
had been cut out rather than given
such freedom with me-"
He had recovered himself a little as
he spoke, and he bowed to her, and
walked away with something of his
accustomed ease.
That evening, strolling in the garden,
with her little hand fondly clasping
the colorel's arm, Betty told the story
of Sir David's woolng, but not of his
insolence. Her anger was over, and
she could laugh at the episode, and
she related it, with such quaint con-
cete that the old soldier laughed, too.
81 scarce thought he would have pre-
sumed to ask for thy hand, Betty" he
said.
Il fanced he would" she answered
demurely
"Ah, little one, perhaps thy bright
eyes glanced his way" said the col.
onel strolling her dimpled hand.
"Uncle!" she cried Indignantly
NAY, Betty I ask thy pardon. Youl
/ pure instinct would tell you his char
acter. The man is profigate his very
| soul is black with sim"
/ "Uncle," said Betty, thoughtfully
''do you know that have never heard
| rou speak 50 harshly of any one before
You have always tried to find excuses
! for people who are spoken against"
! GOD forgive me if / am unjust! But
when l think of this man, Betty, my
! nD.1 hot fIe t,, ~
for such I account all those who are
known as duellists, and he is a noted
one"
A duellst. Some troubling though
must have crossed Bettys mind, fol
her mouth dropped little, and her fac,
lost some of it's rose tint.
1T is his boast" went on the col.
onel hotly. "Seven times has he beer
out, and every time has killed his man
:, ! say tbs murder!"
Seven men he has killed" repeated
Betty. The mrth had gone from he
voice altogether
Yes. The last was poor young Fos
ter, my old comrades only boy. Poo
lad, 2or lad He was murdered. Thi!
man, Sir David, never misses his mark
Betty, my child, it is my boast that
though l have done my best agains
my cOuntry's enemies, 1 have neve
shed the blood of one of my country
men. Once 1 was in a duel, confess
l could not avoid it-but did not fire
Yet, thank God, my courage and m,
honor have never been doubted!"
The colonel had not been looking a
his niece while he was speaking, bu
as she clutched his arm he glance,
uoWn at her. He was amazed, horri
He'd! Her face was coloress and al
awful fear was in her eyes.
Betty! My child! What is it " h
cried.
The words forced themselves fror
her pale, parted lips.
MY John! My John! He will xii
him. That is what he meant!"
Joy and pain came to the old colonel
heart together when he understood he
fears, for he saw that his boy had nc
bestowed his love in vain, and he fe
that Sir David's words had been n
idle threat.
John will not quarrel with this mar
Betty he said, comfortingly; "he wi
not be led into duel, for he tbinE
with me on that point"
"Supposing he were grossly insuI-
ed?' whispered Getty
Then the honor of the regimen
would demand that he should go OF
with the man who insulted him."
Betty was half fainting. and as sh
leaned heavily upon the colonel
shoulder, her fancy showed her a. tel
rible picture, wherein was John, falle
to the ground, a bullet wound in h
forehead, the dark blood dabbling h
golden hair. and his blue eyes starin
blankly at the heavens above him.
The colonel tried to soothc the poC
child, but his face was white an
stern, and his mouth had lost il
sweet look of gentleness and had b,
come almost hard in It's lines.
believe me, Betty" he said. in
hushed but steady voice, "believe n
that John is in no danger. 1 kno
that he has nothing to fear!"
"Oh, uncle! and vet"
You think I may be mistaken. n
love. not that--not that. BE of goc
heart, little one; let us not think
this again. Come now, Betty, with
doors. for I must prepare for m
journey I go TO London tonight"
Tonight"
AYE, tonight "Tis fine night II
a ride, and will do me good"
And later on the colonel kissed h
niece, and bade her farewell so ter
derly so regretfully, that the teal
filled her dark eyes and welled ov,
on to her soft cheeks; and then IL
old soldier had to kiss her again b.
fore he rode away, and to assure h
that his business in London wou
not keep him long.
And what If I should see John. II