Ottumwa semi-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1899-1903, 1900-04-12
sly, Horace. But I lost the papers.
They are lost, lost, lost!

sly, Horace. But I lost the papers.
They are lost, lost, lost!
II see the CLEAN of triumph in your
glazing eyes, Horace. But l know
the papers all by heart. will, tell il
all in open court some day if the dear
Lord will only leave me here until
Thomas comes back. / will swear that
you could not give a title to Broxton
Hall, and then Thomas can get it back.
But, oh, grow so weak, and Thomas
tarries SO long!
~ don't want to go before Thomas
comes. 1 may die tonight. 1 may die
tomorrow. I've used my last strength
to drag myself to your bedside. He
who ,forgave the dying thief upon the
cross can forgive you, too, and he will
Horace, if you will only make restitu-
ton to that poor boy. He is God of
mercy, in whose name make this :
peal"
Gasping as one coming out Of deep
waters does, Olivia threw herself upon
the bed and stretched sheltering arms
about the sick man.
Father, father, forgive me! ought
to have protected you better. was so
frightened could neither move nor
speak. 1t is just poor old crazy Mother
Spillman. Ishail call Reuben to take
her home"
He was breathing stertorously. His
eyes were fixed on. the stern white face
of his accuser. Terror was legibly in
scribed on every line of his pallid
face. He looked beyond olivia. as if
her loving voice had not reached him.
1t reached the old woman, who gave a
start of surprise and said in gentler
tones than she had yet used:
Il am sorry you were close by, child,
but had duty to perform. 1t could
not be put off any longer"
Olivia pressed her hands tenderly
upon her fathers wide stretched lids
and whispered caressingly in his ear.
There, dear, don't look at her. 1t is
only poor old Mother Spillman, who
does not know what she is talking
about. They ought to keep her under
lock and key"
Stretching her hand for the bell on
the table by the bed, she rang sharp
summons for Reuben on it. She rose
from the bed and turned with gentle
dignity toward the old woman.
Mrs. Spillman, Ehave rung for Reu-
ben to see you home. Miss Malvina
will be dreadfully frightened about
you"
She was as an autumn leaf in the
strong current of the relentless old We
mans will. AS andle will some
times burn its brightest before flicker
ing to its death. Mother Spillman
temp recovered the. strong in
diviaaaiity that had made her as the
minister's wife the terror of every evil.
doer in her husbands parish.
Girl, I am sorry for you, truly sorry,
but have work to do. For his sake"
nodding her white head toward the
bed, keep your man at distance.
Your promise, Horace. There is vet
time. Do not go into the essence of
your Maker with a sin burdened soul.
You know whether my words are the
words Of truth or the rawlings of a
crazy old woman. You know, and
she raised one long arm to point sol
emily upward-''he knows"
Her fathers awful silence appalled,
Olivia. He was staring stonily at his
accuser. The muscles of his neck and
jaws twitched convulsively, but no
words came from his parched lips.
Olivia lost all control at the sight.
HE is dying, dying. and you have
killed him! Father, don't die before
you have answered her! Don't go with
her awful words ringing in my ears! 1
know they are. false, all false, father,
out I want to hear you say so! Silence
her yourself. father! Speak to me only
once! Speak, papa"
"He cannot" said the old woman
mercilessly. "The Lord has st.icken
his false and deceitful tongue. 1t is
paralyzed."