Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1901-06-27

nOnOr than MS
"Hush!" she interrupted. "Ah, mer-
ciful heaven, spare me this last foul in
| suit from your lips!"
II do not wish TO hurt you, Beatrice:
but so the world will name her, and
the world shall have the story in all its
bearings. Why should I show you
mercy--who show none to me? Is it
not madness to persist longer in your
refusal? What does it entail upon you
for the future? Your dead fathers dis
honor-your own Inheritance Of both
the man you love convict, your home
a mad house! Look on the other hand:
clear from the dead the stain that
clings to them! will give back to
Bertram Talbot the freedom he has
forfeited! I will make your life happy!
For the sake of the dead and of the liv-
| ing-for the dead, whose voices would
unite with mine, and for the living,
whom your refusal will clothe in the
convict's garb-I bid you pause! Must
not love you we'll that should make
to you this prayer?"
Beatrice's brain was Keeling. His
words held to her the confused mean
ing of a dream.
What was left to her but to yield?
She was in the SPIDERS web, and no
merciful hand would free her. as hers
had freed the tiny, f1uttering fly.
She could but struggle on until death
proved her deliverer-struggle on with
the tain forever resting on the white
hem of her dead mothers shroud, and
pay the forfeit of her lovers liberty.
Why not end the hopeless battle. ac-
6ofaaf harCo0f
loved best in the mantle of an unsullied
honor? What matter the cost of such
an end?
Leave met" she murmured, in a
voice so low and faint he scarce could
catch the words. Tonight bring me
the papers, prove all that you have said
true, and-and-I-consent
A wild wave of absolute rapture
swept over Randolph Chester's face.
He had schemed. and plotted, and
toiled, and at lastat last, victory was
within his grasp!
Once Beatrice Markham was his wife,
what mattered all the rest? Position,
fortune, hOnor-these would be secured
to him, and revenge, revenge for ev-
cry slight she had offered him, revenge
for the very love he bore her, the love
which at this moment Surged so madly
in his soul!
Before she had OWNED or could pre-
vent his purpose he had caught her
hands in his and strained them to his
lips.
AS though their touch had been like
burning fire, she snatched them from
his hold and stood an instant, outraged
and defiant, only the next to remember
that this was but the first payment of
the debt.
But he made neither complaint nor
appeal, as he silently went out from her
presence.
Once more she was alone. Again she
paced the limits of her room, until, ex-
| hausted, she would rest. only to begin
anew.
| The short afternoon deepened into the
shadow of evening.
In the dim light she stood by her
window, looking out, when suddenly
she saw, standing beneath it, a man,
half concealed by the trunk Of giant
oak against which he leaned. Yet she
imagined his eyes fixed on her window.
Suddenly he drew handkerchief
from his pocket and cautiously waved
! it toward her.
Who was he?
She looked more closely, and fancied
it the figure of Tyrrell, the lodgekeeper.
! Surely, he could want nothing of her.
Yet he was reckoning to her. 1t might
be fresh trap, but at least it could be
nothing more terrible. Her promise of
to-day precluded that.
The ghost of a tiny hope stalked by
! cI,1 No
stairway and through the empty halls
/ to the place where he stood awaiting
her. FIe waited still.
''You wanted to see me?" she said.
eyes, MISS" he answered. IT just
heard as how my master was going to
marry We, and, bad as I am, I'm not
bad enough to let that happen. lift
I get We out Of his clutches, yen help
Promise me this"
81 PROMISE swear it! But speak
speak quickly!"
cts the papers, miss, as We said
would prove your lover innocent-will
they be afther showing the guilty
MANI"
mo, Tyrrell, no: but they will en-
able me to wrest myself forever from
! Mr.. Chester's cruel power. Oh, II you
can help me, do it! Was 1t you who
tore the papers from my hands? II
so, give them back to me, and I will
thank you on my knees"
"Your knees, Miss Beatrice-your
knees to me? Oh, no! Shure, I'd soon
be telling We all the wretched truth
I when We talk like that. But come with
me, and let what will happen to Tyrrel
| O'Byrne, the devil to whom he sold
himselfll find one white spot on his
soul for this hours work It's safe and
chure I've hid 'em away. but I've not
sure I've hidden 'em away, but I've not
forgotten the hiding place. 1t came
back to me just now like vision, and
1 said to myself as it was sign that
We were to have what belonged to We.
AS he talked they walked rapidly
along side by side. Beatrice's heart
was beating loudly The ghost of her
hope was taking bodily shape and sub.
stance now.
Suddenly Tyrrell paused. Just here
was a place between two blocks OF
stone in the solid wall of the house