Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1901-04-04
unhcralded, Randolph Chester entered

the room.
Her face crimsoned, then paled. She
threw back her head with naughty,
impulsive gesture he knew so we'll.
so had he seen her express her trans
itory anger as a little child, when some
one had opposed her will.
But would she be as easily appeased
now as then? He believed not: but
he was not dismayed. Did he not hold
| firmly in his hands the weapons for her
subjugation?"
Pardon my Intrusion, Beatrice" he
said, gently. "for such am, unhappily.
sure you will deem it. But it is quite
necessary that l should see and talk
with you, and I feared to send my
name lest you should deny me-" .,
You are quite right" She answered.
icily. There is nothing you can have
to say to me which I must be forced to
hear-nothing which will hear. l was
about writing to Mr.. Arnold to come to
me tomorrow. You can make him the
messenger between u.s."
mo. Beatrice. No man can be my
messenger in what have to say to
you. You only must hear From your
| lips alone can l receive my answer.
My child, will you not let the tie of
| blood between us teach you to look
more kindly upon me? Will you not
believe that I am not your enemy, but
your friend your cousin? Gladly
would 1 urge closer claim. I love
you. Beatrice-love you with all the
passion and ardor of my soul! would
be your friend. lover. protector, hus>
band, all in one. o, Beatrice, do not
| look so white, so stern. SO hard! Lei
me teach you to love me. to give me
some little fragment of hope for my
| heart to feed upon"
| All the subtlety of his fascination was
in his manner and his words as he
made his plea. His eyes blazed with
passion, his voice quivered with feel
ing: but he was gentle, as though
pleading With a little child. But no
softening crept into the pale, beautiful
face of the girl. who listened and shiv-
cred.
You force me to answer your She
said, at last, between her firmly-set
teeth, while her hands instinctively
clenched. els it, indeed, necessary that
I should let you know, in words, the
| utter hopelessness of such a plea to me
| "a plea which, coming from you, is an
| insult? Yes, it is well no other ear
heard. no other mind conceived. this
last browning humiliation to which
| YOU have subjected me. You ask mo
| to marry you-you, who sWore away
my love and life; you, who perjured
| yourself in your false witness against
him; you, who conceived and fastened
on the world a lie, so base, so cruei,
| i%p oil roAoo{inn Cho1J1H Chr1f OIIt
all future sunlight from your life!
Well. you have spoken and have
heard. Will my answer suffice? If not,
let me make it more clear. Let there
be no mistake between us. If choice
were given me between going to your
embrace or accepting the death en-
brace of the glittering, sinuous reptile
folds of the venomous cobra, / would
choose the latter as less poisonous
than yours"
She spoke with painting breath, her
words low-voiced but clear, distinct,
though suppressed by the feeling that
bore her beyond her own control.
Chester's face grew red.
One day she should wipe out in he1
hearts blood every syllable which had
burned itself upon his revengeful mem
ory-one day!
But, conscious of his power, he could
afford to wait.
And so, by almost superhuman effort,
he nerved himself to control, and when
| at last he spoke, his voice gave no evil
dence Of the fearful external conflict.
| He seemed rather a man stricken by
some great sorrow than mediating a
| great revenge.
| At any cost he must make this WON.
| an his wife-ah, he would teach her
| then!
Beatrice" he said, IT little knew
| the child who used to sit upon my knee
| and talk to me her childish prattle,
could ever deal me such blow. What
better proof can I give you of my love
than in granting you an instant par
don? One day you will see and recog-
nize your own bitter injustice. But,
| Beatrice, there are reasons why must,
for your own sake, force my suit, I'M
welcome az it is to, you. My child
your fathers will cannot be found. and,
in it's absence, there may be some diff
culties in your assuming control of the
property
"These are matters for Mr.. Arnold,
not yourself" she interrupted. Sir, l
will listen no further to your plaus-
ible manner. Leave my presence and
my house, or I will ring for my SER
wants to eject you!'
The scorn in her tone rather than her
words broke down the last barrier of
his control.
He sprang. white and trembling,
| from his chair to his feet.
MAY ask whose house this is, Miss
Markham, that you should issue orders
to your servants to have me thrust
from it's doors?"
''There can scarcely be doubt, sir, as
to Grey Oaks mistress!'
"Grey Oaks has no Mistress" he re-
piled, taking one step nearer, and fast
ening his glittering eyes full upon her,
as he watched to note how. blow by
blow, each stroke would tell. Grey
Oaks owns master. 1t is you, Miss
Markham, who are indebted to my
courtesy for your shelter here"
care you mad?" she said. II you,
| ouoeto NV household not INV own to