The Red Cloud chief., 1900-11-02
A Sacrifice
To Conscience
!
III. b. eVeISb
CHAPTER I.-(Contiuued.)

Cecil had cut herself of from him.
A few months after she had married
. a dissipated young nobleman, whose
character was anything but above sus-
pieion; and the two had finally left
England, having arrived on the brink
OF ruin, and, II was reported, were fire.
quenting the gambling tables OF Mo-
naco and Hamburg.
Cecil's treatment of her father had
killed any lingering feeling OF senti-
ment Enderby had for her. He was
able to thank Providence profoundly
that he had discovered her true nature
before it was too late.
Dundas Lyndon had been found
guilty, and sentenced to lifelong I'M
p%risonment. The morning after his
sentence he was found dead In his cell;
he had managed to secrete a small
quantity of deadly poison about his
person, and cut short his doomed ca
reer with 1t.
And Jasmine?
Jasmine Is just now with Paul's sis
ter. the Hon. Mrs. Fraser. who is mar
ried 10 a Scottish laird In the South OF
Scotland. Paul had laid the whole
story before his sister, and asked her
advice. Jasmine was his ward, he de-
clared, and as such he mean to look
after her.
Mrs. Fraser-a good-hearted little
woman, with no children, and living
In rather a lonely country district
had come up to London, seen Jasmine,
taken a sudden fancy for her. and de-
clared nothing would suit her better
than to have jasmine as a companion.
SO Jasmine had gone to Calder's
Knowe. and Mrs. Fraser had never re-
GREETED her choice.
Paul had been several times at CAL
der's Knowe, and, as he Is able to take
q few days holiday in May, he decides
to "run down to Scotland, taking his
bicycle with him.
He rides from the s~tation-he has
sent no word to his sister. having a
masculine fondness, a fondness never
shared by the recipients, for giving sur
prises-leaving word for his luggage to
be sent after him.
Calder's Knowe is about six miles
from the sleepy little village and sta
ton known as Calderhead, and the
road Is a bad one, from a cyclists
point of view, being composed OF a
series of very steep thoughts and
howes," as the villagers call them, and
a surface of mingled loose clay and
stones.
However, it is a lovely evening, and
Paul Enderby Is wonderfully happy
and light-hearted as he speeds along
the lonely road bounded on both sides
oy silent, melancholy moors.
What is the real cause OF his happi
ness? Is II that things are going very
well with him, and that he is consid-
cred by his fellow barristers as on the
lair way to the top Of his profession?
Or can 1t be that the prospect OF
seeing his sister--"Best little woman
in the world" has anything to dc
with 1t?
However that may be, Paurs
Paul's thoughts are wandering very
far afeld as he coasts down a steer
hill. whose gradient is at least ont
in eleven, his free wheel stationary
and his mind as easy as that OF Q
scorcher on an utterly desolate roat
can be.
Alas! ever scorchers are sometime,
out In their reckoning, or Paul would
have remembered the sudden, sharI
curve at the foot of the hill.
He does not, and moving alonf
with velocity strikes across the roa'
instead of round 1t, and the next mo
ment he is sent flying over a ditch
into the moorland beyond, and hi
machine-twisted and curved into al
manner Of crooked shapes-lie'
spreading across the ditch.
For a moment or two the shock o
his sudden impact with the grount
stuns Enderby; a faintness, such al
he has never known In all his life
comes over him, and his eyes close
The next moment he dimly hears
cry Of horror; then-is 1t long after
some one Is bending over him, gen
tie hands touch his face. and suddenl,
another cry-this time Of agonize'
and startled surprise-falls on his eaI
Paul! Paul! Oh, God! 10 he dead?-
is he dead?"
He would have spoken, would hav
opened his eyes, but something, h
know not what, keeps him from doinI
so. The soft hands-how soft. no,
tender they are!-wander over hi
face, touch his cheek, gently lift hi
hand, and he feels them clasped roun
his wrist. A sobbing cry breaks froI
tho owner OF the hands.
Thank God! Thank God! Oh. wha
am I to do for him? Ny dear-m
dear!"
The words are only a breath-a sol
breath breathed above him. But It
more than Paul can stand. Suddenl
the warm color rushes back into hi
face. his eyes open, and with an ei
fort he raises himself on his elbow
a. - go a.