The Washburn leader. [volume] (Washburn, McLean County, N.D.) 1890-1986, 1901-04-13
CHAPTER VIII.

For a moment, as a whip-cord whis-
tiles its way through the air in it's
swift. relentless, downward flight,
welded by some merciless hand, SO
did the cruel words, more pitiless than
the knotted thong. fall upon the
.quivering nerves Of Beatrice Mark
hams hearing.
But for a moment only True. in
that second, time had been given. to
blanch the lovely cheek, and let the
great eyes dilate with anguish; then
che rallied from the blows cruel force,
and throwing back her little head with
an old gesture of naughty grace. her
proud lips curled in scorn.
"And you would stoop ven to such a
Die a 8 this?" she said, and in her tone
Awas a contempt which fairly seemed
to burn the air. "You, who knew my
father, would dare impute to him this
,monstrous wrong? He has talked to
me Of my mother by the hour. She
was a saint, and he the worshiper at
her shrine! She was pure as snow,
white as the lily, in her freedom from
:all'taint Of wrong; and you-you would
dig down into her grave to throw
there your hideous slime! Oh! leave
me! lest, looking at you, I should hate
myself that in my veins flow with
yours one drop Of kindred blood!"
She shivered as she spoke, and i'm
petuously pressed her hands to her
face, as though to shut out some hor-
rid vision.
But the moment for Randolph Ches-
tiers lack Of %self-control had passed.
Henceforth he was himself.
In his own hands he held the reins of
victory. Let her impotence expend it
self in what shape it would; 1t was but
dts death struggle; and, knowing this.
and let her words fall on ears deaf to
all but their future vengeance.
He had struck a little sooner than he
had meant to strike. She had betrayed
him into this; but now he could be
.quiet-now he could wait.
Beatrice" he said, gently, you must
remember that words such as I have
uttered are not lightly spoken. and that
proof must substantiate them. That
proof, my child, I am ready to offer
you. Nor must YOU let your fancy run
riot, and read in this story no dishonor
of h parents who were so dear to
you, further thar they loved not wisely
but too we'll. When they first met.
your mother was already married.
Your father would gladly would have
made her, indeed, his honored wife, as
she. ever was in all but legal form.
Gladly. my child, would I have entrust-
ed to other lips The telling of this pain
full secret, but that the knowledge Is
only shared by one other, and I would,
tf possible, keep it from the world!"
He spoke SO calmly, so convincingly,
with all malice banished alike from look
and tone. that she who listened grew
cold with an icy fear.
Instinctively she clasped her hands
above her heart, which beat in such
slow, difficult throbs.
! "You say that you can give me
proof of this?" she gasped. "Oh, my
God! what am I saying? I speak as
though the horrid thing were possible.
For the moment you frightened me.
Now I am brave again. My mother
not my fathers wife!u Do you forget
his name on her tombstone, and that,
together they sleep in n grave?"
II forget nothing, Beatrice. Would
to heaven that I might! My child, list
0AAs Lac AAV VAA JO0 SAAS @SSSSA
have I set myself so bitter a task; but
in no other way can I convince you
that u am not speaking from some
motive of revenge. Revenge, dear
child All! how little I am capable Of
such a feeling toward yourself! But
may I go on? Will o listen?"
II am listening she replied.
But her lips were parched and dry,
and! with the utmost difficulty h man.
aged to artYculate the short reply.
She made no Interruption, as, begin
ming the tale, he repeated it. as he had
already repeated 1t to Mr.. Arnold.
How many Of US have fingered in
goodnight over an exquisite bud, too
beautiful to pluck. only to find, in the
morning, the frost had been less mer-
.ciful and, taking 1t in its cold embrace.
had robbed It alike of bloom and beau
~?
Not often may we watch how each
y petal droops under its blighting breath.
how color fades and perfume dies.
But az Beatrice listened, with
strained hearing, to the measured
words, one could have seen the flower
fade, and droop, and die!
a few moments before and she had
Aehed him. In her young pride and
naughty disbelief. Now the rock on
which she stood, was torn from be-
meath her, and, tossed on the mad.
tsnpest-lashed waves. his hand alone
wal outstretched toward her In safety.
No! Better sink beneath the waterS
than grasp Il!
Once, as he spoke Of her mother. and
the moment that her voice had failed
her, tears had sprung to the beautiful
eyes,. but they did not fall: and, as he
went on to the end, they seemed to
1reeze there. y
Beatrice" he added, when, al last,
he paused for her to speak, only to
Ind the silence unbrcken, and words as
likely to fall from the petrified lips Of
marble statue which confronted
them at the other side OF the room
ls.Beatrice, will you not believe I would
nave spared you IL ! could. Will you
not believe I yet would spare you II
lyou will let me! Take the property. I
will never assert my claim. All shall
be yours. One thing alone ] ask. with
out which the worlds wealth would
aeaye me poor. i want yourself, Beat
iFdcs. Grant my prayer-be my wife!"
.sYou are very generons!' she said.
shesitatingly. Perhaps perhaps I
have ronged you IN my suspicion and
NY thought, butt could never wrong
4loN 5 #marrying you. should always