Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1902-01-02
CHAPTER VIII. (Continued.)

absolutely alone. and ! am beSet by
such troubles as fall to the lot of few
men. Look at me: take these hands of
flesh into your own, if you will: hear
the voice in which I speak to you: and
then hear me say that I am dead and
buried. Yes, it's true: l stand tonight
in the house in which 1 wass born-the
house in which my mother died: yet
stand as the very ghost of myself
without q name-without the right to
any name on earth. Look at me. and
tel, me if any man ever had such fate
Ns mine?"
George Reeks was quite unequal to
the situation; he opened his mouth
feebly once or twice. as if to speak, but
eaid nothing. At last, finding his mouth
open, and deeming it better to take ad-
vantage of the circumstance, he alb
sc t-rnindedly, put the neck of the
task into it and took another pull.
Il want to trust YOU. Mr.. Reeks; l
believe L can. I might. it is true, so
out into the world tonight. declare
who 1 am. and expose the scoundrel
who has brought this misery upon me;
bui cannot do that. In of,ing that 1t
would involve the name of one who is
very, very dear to income who is help
Tess. and who can say nothing in her
own defense or in mine"
'The-the young girl should say
the young lady?" broke in Mr.. Reeks.
1.-The young lady of whom you have
already heard. and Of whom mention
was made in the diary you have read.
BUY for her, I should not be in hiding
here an hour longer: I would tear this
tnan--this Nugent Leathwood-out into
the sight of all men, and show him for
what I believe him to be. Listen: you
shall hear everything have to tell
MI Reeks, in the most absent-nllnded
fashion, took another pull at the flask,
but still kept his eyes fixed on Gilbert
Richerby Gilbert. for his part con-
tinued to pace about the floor in his eX-
citcment, although he spoke always in
q subdued voice.
II needn't tell you anything about
sny early life; suffice it to say that I
was born here, the only child of a most
unhappy marriage. In all my early
years I remember, after my mothers
death, but one bright thing in them-a
girl. God knows ] needed some bright
ness, something to lift away from me
the appalling silence and somberness
of this place. 1 found it in her. We
were little more than children; but we
chung to each other, as people of ripper
years might have done; trusted each
otker: were all in all to each other.
Then. four years ago, my father discov-
cred our secret meetings, drove me
rtro1n the house, and sent her away"
That was hard, very hard,' muir
injured Mr. Reeks, in deep sympathy.
i went abroad continued Gilbert,
moving about the room in restless
fashion, and speaking almost as though
he had no listener, land saw nothing
more of her. But we correspondent reg
u,arly. through medium known only
to ourselves. Then, quite suddenly, I
had q letter concerning her from a
cousin of mine-this man, Nugent
Leathwood whom you have seen to-
q night. After left home this man had
been high in my fathers favor, and
was supposed to exercise a sort of
guardianship over the property, which
my father, in his dying hour, had left
to me. Well, this man wrote me that
he had seen my girlish sweetheart, oft
en- and often; that a love-story had
begun to be spelled out between them:
that she repented the promise she had
made to me; and that, now that she
was of an age to know her own mind,
she lad turned to hinl-Leathwood-a
TO the one love of her life"
''And you believed him.
'"What else could I do? I suppose I
ought to have written to the girl and
asked for her version of the matter.
But you must remember, Mr. Reeks,
that I was a soured and disappointed
man: that my childhood and my young
manhood had been most unhappy; that
had wandered the earth alone, and
had learned to distrust almost every
one met. l chung to this girl alone Of
all the world. Now, it seemed, even
she was to disappoint me-to turn from
me in the hour when most l needed
ter"
swell-and may I ask what happened
them asked Mr.. Reeks.
81 believed his story. and for time I
did nothing. Wavering about the mat
ter determined. at last, after nearly
two years had passed, to go home-back
to England. l must tell you that, i'm"
znediately before receiving the letter
from Leathwood, had written to him,
telling him that I was coming to Eng
land to see my p1 omised wife; on that,
his letter followed. Then changed my
plans: and, after wandering aimlessly
for al long time, made up my mind to
go back. Perhaps I hungered for a
sight iof the old place where L had
known her, and where we had whis-
pered together; perhaps 1 had doubts
of the real truth Of the story. Al all
events,.l came back to England
And }came to No. 9. Little Pond
street. Camden TOWN." said Mr.. Reeks,
feeling that he had got the matte,
stl sight at last.
Yes: IAcame TO your house with my
servant, JAmes Holden, and took your
vacant rcohls ] had reason for TAX
ing an Obscure lodging like that-a rea-
son for hiding myself. ] had deter
mined that by stay in England should
be a short DYE. ] had really come to
perform a QNixotic action. but one
when l regarded as a matter of just
ice"
1 remember ydp said something about
chat in the diarA l took the liberty of
residing last night," said Mr.. i.eeks,
xOdding slowly.
Yes; / rememb\r I wrote something
about it before went out that night.
i had kept i dialt for years--a mere
vehicle for my OWN unhappy thoughts.