The Bamberg herald. [volume] (Bamberg, S.C.) 1891-1972, 1902-06-05
was she doing at that hour Of tha

was BIC UCluE dl luat uOuE VI Iuo
night? Why this secrecy? She shud-
dered as she leaned out of the window
and watched the tall, silent form reel
ing toward the most deserted portion
of the garden. Should she follow ?
Her honor forbade. Breathless, she
awaited her godmethers' return, but
some time elapsed before she came
tottering toward the house. She was
muttcring to herself, but the girl
could not hear her words.
The next morning Margaret Harway
was found dead in her chair. Heart
failure" the doctor pronounced the
cause of her death, and heart failure
it was. Very gently Evangeline took
from the clenched fingers some cid let
tiers, and tying them together laid
them reverentlv away.
After the death Of her godmother
Evangcline yielded to Paul's desire to
an Immediate marriage; alone, with
out money 'ofsfriends, it seemed her
only possible course. She turned in
stinctivcly to Paul, and he did not fail
her.
To clear the ground around the
house was Paul's duty as we'll as his
pleasure. at first it seemed a hope
les task. but by degrees the flower beds
took FORM and outline, until the only
remaining tanglc was the far corner
under the apple cree.
AS they drew near the spot, one al
tarnotn. intending tt. work there,
Evangeline shuddered and drew back.
1T was here she came on that dread
full hight" she whispered to her hus-
hand. Il could see her busy among
the bushes. Oh. Paul, what was sho
doing?'
Paul drew her toward him.
My darling. you must forget. Just
as the weeds and mould have been
cleared from the old place, so the
shadows must pass from my darling.
Come, be brave, this is our last task"
He struck his spade into the earth,
and threw up the rich black mould.
Suddenly he stopped.
There is something here" he said,
running his hand through the loose
earth. "Who knows but what it is
fortune? 1t is box" he said more
seriously, drawing it forth with some
difficulty.
Evangeline was clinging to a tree
for support.
"Oh, Paul, do not touch it! Put it
back-put it back! l know it must be
something dreadful, something we do
not want to know. If you love me,
Paul, bury it quickly!"
There was so much anguished en-
treaty in her voice that he did as'she
Dade him.
eve will leave it, he said reluc-
tantly. "but we owe it to ourselves and
to her to solve this mystery. Come,
we will look through the old papers
and letters you have laid away And
so, with his arm around her, they
went into the house and up the stairs.
At first it seemed as though the mys-
terry would not be solved, at any rate
by the letters; but finally Evangeline
leaid before Paul the letter she had
taken from the dead woman's hand,
then, looking over her husbands
shoulder, she read with him.
Margaret: There is a just retri-
button for every sin mortal man COM
mt 7 n
tration. No future could bring more
anguish than that which endure.
Margaret, l. who would have given my
life for you, have given my soul, l am
despised of you.
IN a mad hour forged my employ
er's signature. We were so poor, Mar
garet, so desperately poor! To see
you toiling day after day was torture
could not stand, and temptation over
came me and l fell-may just Power
condone my sin! When the realization
came, when 1 fully understood the dis
grace and loss of self respect-then,
my darling, my wife, knew but of one
way to save you: first, to make what
reparation lay in my power, then to
leave you, my baby, and my country.
Thus my crime would remain hidden.
knowing your upright soul, your
purity and honor, l will never ask you
to live with me again, but will think
of you and our child in the little home
bought with honest money. No one
knows you there; resume your maiden
name, for mine would soil you, and II
you have one faint spark OF love for
your erring husband, keep the knowl-
edge of the crime which has separated
us from our child, our tiny Evangeline.
ITO return to America would mean
arrest, public dishonor and imprison-
ment. 1 have but one thought-death
Il live that may die, for to die
means to be near you.
"Some day there will come to the lit
tie brown house box. Bury it under
the old apple tree. Margaret, l re-
turn to you what has always been
yours-the heart that once throbbed
with every glad emotion, now dead
Waverley Magazine.