Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1899-05-20

CHAPTER xXI-Had Batsy Lived.
1t was the last day of the inquest and
to many 1t babe fair to be the least in
teresting. All the witnesses who had any
thing to say had long ago given in their
testimony, and when at near noon
Sweetwater slid into the inconspicuous
seat he had succeeded in obtaining near
the coroner it was to find in two faces only
any signs of eagerness and expectancy that
filed his own breast to suffocation. But
as these faces were those of Agnes Halli-
day and Amabel Page he soon recognized
that his own judgment was not at fault,
and that Notwithstanding outward appear
ances and the langud interest shown In
the now tagging proceedings, the moment
presaged an event full of unseen but vital
consequence.
Frederick was not visible in the great
hall; but that he was near at hand soon
became evident from the change Sweet
water now saw in Amabel For while she
had hitherto sat under the universal gaze
with only the faint smile of conscious
beauty on her insCrutahle features, she
reused as the hands of the clock moved to-
ward noon, and glanced at the great door
of entrance with an evil expectancy that
startled even SweetWater. so little had he
really understood the nature Of the pas
ions laboring in that venomous breast.
Next moment the door opened. and Fred
erick and his father came in. The air of
triumphant satisfaction with which Amabel
sank back into her seat was as marked in
It's character as her previous susp anse.
What did it mean? Sweetwater. noting it,
and the vivid contrast 1t offered to Freder-
lex 5 air of depression, felt that his return
had been well tined
Mr.. Sutherland was looking very feeble
As he took the chair offered him the change
in his appearance was appa rent to all who
knew him, and there were few there who
did not know him. And startled by these
evidences of suffering which they could not
understand, and feared to interpret, even
to themselves, more than one devoted
friend stole uneasy glances at Frederick to
see if he. too. were under the cloud which
seemed to envelop his father almost beyond
recognition.
But Frederick was looking at Amabel.
and his erect head and determined aspect
made him a conspicuous figure In the room
She who hid called up this expression and
alone comprehended 1t fully smiled as she
met his eye. with that curious slow dipping
of her dimples which had more than once
&C nfOunded the coroner, and rendered her
at once the admiration and adherence of
the crowd, who for so long a time had had
the opportunity of Watching her
Frederick, to whom this smile conveyed q
last hope, as we'll a last threat, looked
away soon as possible, but not before
her eyes had fallen in their old. inquiring
way to his hands, from which he had re-
moved the ring which UP to this hour he
mad invariably worn on his third finger. In
this glance of hers and this action of his
began the struggle that was to make that
day memorable in many hearts.
After the first stir occasioned by the en-
| trance of two such important persons and
| possible witnesses, the crowd settled back
| into its old quietude under the coroner s
| hand. tedious witness was having his
| slow say, and to him a full attention was
| being given in the hope that some real
enlightenment would come at last to settle
| the questions which had been raised by
| Amabeps Incomplete and unsatisfactory
| testimony. But no man can furnish what
| he does not possess, and the few final min
| utes before noon passed by without any
| addition to the facts which had already
been presented for general consideration
| As the witness sat down the clock began
| to strike. AS the slow, hesitating strokes
| rung out, Sweetwater saw Frederick WELD
| to a sudden but most profound emotion,
| The old fear, which we understand. II
! Sweetwater did not, has again seized the
| victim of Amabers ambition and under her
| eye, Which was blazing full upon him now
| with fell and steady purpose, hs found his
| right hand stealing toward the left in the
| significant action she expected. Better To
| yield than fall headlong into the Dit one
word of hers could open. Hs had not mea mt
| to yield. but now that the moment had
come, now that he must at once and for
ever choose between a course that led sim
| ply to personal unhappiness and one that
| involved not only himself, but those dearest
| to him, In disgrace and sorrow, he felt him.
self weaken to the point Of clutching at
whatever would save him from the oonsa-
Quences of confession. Moral strength ana
] t&H tsnacity Of puEDoss Which only come