The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939, 1903-08-31
her fathers lips sealed and Compelled him
to undergo the degradation Of herding

with felons?
She felt the British Museum in a strange
futter Of excitement, and at one moment
a, feeling Of exultation obtained the mas
terry, for she felt If Hargraye Denton per-
sisted in his pursuit she could meet him
fully armed.
This pursuit of his-how it haunted her!
On that very day he had sworn to visit
her and receive her decision. But how
much had happened since then! Now
that her father was beyond the reach Of
his venom, she wondered II Hargrave
would keep his oath. She wished he
would that she might have oppor-
tunity Of silencing him for ever.
Then her thoughts reverted to the story
Of her father. In spite Of what she had
read in that old discolored newspaper, how
little did she really know of her fathers
secret! That grave and fateful day-Oct.
3l-did his association with David Latti-
mer throw any light upon this mystery?
She could not say it did. The encounter
between them happened in May, and there
was nothing to connect this early episode
with the gloom which took possession Of
Hugh Tremaine every year In the late
autumn.
He was murdered on Oct. 31-strange,
terrible coincidence. Was it the fulhlment
Of some dread vengeance? Who could
say?
She determined to go back the next
morning to the British museum and search
the files Of the Cornish neWspa pers again.
This time she would read forward from the
date of the trial. Maybe when the time
of his release came the paper would find
something else to say concerning him, and
the mystery which surrounds his alleged
crime.
She entered the house at Piccadilly with
a feeling Of mingled foreboding and ex-
P11f to AL 1,o4
messages for her-only a. few letters.
She took up the letters one by one with
a sensation of nervous distrust. She looked
at the writing Of each before she broke
open the envelopes. There was no hand
writing which at all resembled Hargrave
Denton's Then she commenced the work
Of reading her correspondence. Most of
the letters were on trivial matters, but
one puzzled her not a. little. It was from
one Of her fathers executors a Mr.
GWynne, who, tho not Cornish born had
lived in Cornwall since he was boy, and
had been q schoolfellow Of her father s.
He wrote as follows:
"My Dear Miss Trenaine-I write to ask
you to see me tomorrow on very impor-
tant-indeed, may say serfous-business
It Is so serious that I do not care to put
it into writing. Would 3 o'clock suit you
IF do not hear from you to the contrary,
I will call at that hour.-Yours very truly,
k1ulOS IWyIlu0. 1872
This letter troubled Eleanor intensely,
as was only natural.
why didn't Mr.. Gwynne be more ex-
p1icit? Why couldn't he write what he
has to tell me or at least give me some idea
Of what to prepare for? I am surrounded
enough as It Is by mystery and trouble
without wanting any more
But the letter had to be answered, and
with deep sigh she wrote that the hour
named would be quite convenient.
All that evening Eleanor was a prey tc
the most dismal and harassfng thoughts
Mr.. Gwynne's letter had come at moment
when she was least able to endure fur
Their strain upon her nerves. She felt com
p1etely unstrung, and could fix her mind
upon nothing. After her discovery at the
museum she had felt as already men
! toned, a strange desire to see Hargrave
Denton, but now she prayed he would mol
come. She had not complete command OF
herself, and If she showed the slightest
sign Of weakness before this coward she
would never forgive herself.
| She felt SO disturbed she begged the
housekeeper not only to dine with her, but
to stay in the rooms afterwards.
why don't you go to bed early, Miss
Eleanor said Mrs Humphreys: you
look quite i'll and worn"
st feel so, Humphreys" returned the
girl, sadly; but what is the good of going
to bed If you can't sleep? should only
think and think, and just now would
give anything not to have any thoughts
at - q