The Hood River glacier. (Hood River, Or.) 1889-1933, 1901-11-08
The Doctors dilemma
BY +1esba stretton
eSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
CHApTER xyI.-lContinued.)

CHAPTER XVI.-(Continued.)
'sYou are looking rather low" she said
triumphantly-''ra rather blue, | might say.
Is there anything the matter with you
Your face Is as long as fiddle. Perhaps
It Is the sea that makes you melancholy.
mot at ALL" answered, trying tc
speak briskly; II am an old sailor. Per
haps you viii feel melancholy by-and'
by" 4
Luckily for me, my prophecy was fui'
filed shortly after, for the day was rougn
enough to produce uncomfortable sensa'
tions In those who were not old sailors
like myself. My tormentor was pros
trate to the last moment.
When we anchored at the entrance OF
the Creux. and the small boats came out
to carry us ashore, | managed easily 70
secure a place in the first, and to lose
sight of her In the hustle Of landing. AS
soon as my feet touched the shore ! start
ed off at my swiftest pace for the davre
Gosselin.
But had not far to go, for at Vaudin
Inn, which stands at the top OF the steep
lane running from the Creux harDor,
saw Tardif at the door. He came to me
instantly. and we sat down on low
stone wall on the roadside, but weli oul
Of hearing of any ears but each other $; ,
"Tardif,p / said, has mam'zelle told
you her secret"
"Yes, yes," he answered; poor little
SOUL and she Is a hundredfold dearer 70
me now than before. But mann zeiie IL
mot here. She is gone!
"Gone" | calculated. could not ut
ter another word; but l stared at him
as il my eyes could tear further informa-
tion from him.
"Yes," he said; "that lady came last
week with Miss Dobree, your cousin.
Then nam zelle told me all, and we took
counsel together. 1t was not safe for
her to stay any longer, though | would
have died for her gladly. But what could
be done? We knew she must go else
where, and the next morning | rowed
her over to Peter-port in time for the
steamer to England. Poor little thing!
poor little hunted soul!'
'Tardif," / said, "did she leave no
message for met"
"She wrote letter for you," he said,
"the very last thing. She did not go to
bed that night, neither did |. was go.
ing to lose her, doctor, and she had
been like the light Of the sun to me,
But what could do? She was terrified
to death at the thought of her husband
claiming her promised to give the
letter into your own hands. Here 1t is;
1t had been lying In his breast pocket
and the edges were worn already. He
gave 1t to me lingeringy, as II 10th to
part with it. The tourists were coming
up in greater numbers, and | made a
retreat hastily towards a quiet and re-
mote part of the cliffs seldom visited in
Little Sark.
There, with the sea, which had carried
her away from me, playing buoyantly
amongst the rocks, | read her farewell
letter. 1t ran thus:
my Dear Friend-I am glad l can
call you my friend, though nothing can
ever come of our friendship-nothing, for
we may not see one another as other
friends do. am compelled to fee away
again from this quiet, peaceful home,
where you and Tardif have been so good
to me. | began to feel perfectly safe
here, and all at once the refuge fails
me. 1t breaks my heart, but | must go,
and my only gladness Is that it will be
good for you. BY and by you will forget
me, and return to your cousin Julia, and
be happy just as you once thought you
should be-as you would have been but
for me. You must think of me as one
dead. am quite dead--lost to you.
"Good-by, my dear friend; good-by,
good-by! OLIVIA"
The last line was written in shaken,
irregular hand, and her name was half
blotted out, as il tear had fallen upon
1t. | remained there alone on the wild
and solitary cliffs until it was time to
return to the steamer.
Tardif was waiting for me at the en-
trance of the little tunnel through which
the road passes down to the harbor. He
did not speak at first. but he drew out
of his pocket an old leather pouch filed
with yellow papers. Amongst them lay
a long curling tress of shining hair He
touched 1t gently as If 1t had feeling and
consciousness.
You would like to have it, doctor? he
said.
"Ay," l answered, and that only. l
could not venture upon another word.