The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1903-10-25


to her what he wanted to say.
She blushed, trembled little, AID gave
grateful half-smiIe in recognition of her
late travelling companion.
The magistrates returned as Bertram re-
sumed his seat He leant back in his chair
and began tapping the table with his
| fingers. For the first time in his life he felt
| nervous about a verdict-nervous for the
sake of the woman he loved, whose anxiety
| had communicated itself to him.
At this moment n telegram was put into
his hands. He read it, and his face
| blanched.
The chairman had risen and was about
to pronounce the verdict. He must be stop
| ped. At all hazards he must be prevented
from uttering words which might be not
| only cruel, but sacrilegious.
Bertram sprang to his feet.
"Your worship"
| The chairman suddenly collapsed into
his chair, overcome by the audacity Of
| counsel, but entirely dominated by a will
power superior to his own.
| "Si-ience," began the stalwart police
man, but the word withered on his lips.
Gentlemen" said Bertram, In a tone Of
| piercing sadness, defer your judgment on
the actions of the dead. Mrs. L'Estrange
passed away suddenly at her residence less
| than half an hour ago"
| A great murmur arose in court. The
| policeman dared not repeat his mechanical
cry. for Bertram's eye. unwittingly resting
| upon him. seemed to fix him in vice.
Suddenly one word was uttered in tone
| of anguish which thrilled every soul pres
| ent
Murdered"
The sound of a heavy fall followed.
In moments of supreme excitement men
are not always careful of the choice of
their words. 1t was an oath which rose
to Bertram's lips as he flung himself over
the few benches which lay between himself
and Marion Lee, pushing aside their occu-
pants with brutal determination. His brain
was in a turmoil of fury against those who
had 10 crafty a petty personal malice.
brought about this tragedy. Some of them
were present, and his hand fell none the
less heavily their shoulders when they
INSTRUCTED his path. In few seconds he
was beside the fainting woman. He helped
to carry her to a neighboring shop, where
a kind-hearted lady waited upon her. A
doctor who happened to have been in court
followed. Bertram waited sitting in the
little parlor. 1t was long ere she recovered,
and then the doctor declared that she was
hardly fit to travel. She was in an ex-
tremely weak condition, and seemed if
she had been insuficiently nourished and
overworked. The lady who had interested
herself in her was anxious to keep her for
the night. but the patient shrunk from at
tention, and insisted on returning to Man.
chester by the earliest train possible.
Bertram undertook to see her safely home,
and so these two made the return journey
together. What a difference these few
hours had made She was too weak and
weary, and too overcome with grief. to
object TO the young barrister's attentions,
and she allowed him to take her to her
lodgings in dreary street. where the land
lady informed him that she was typist,
working for a livelihood all day, and doing
deeds of charity at night.
Not but what she's quite respectful
herself" said the woman. And a more
regular payer 1 never knew, nor a quieter
party. But they do say she goes to them
rescue homes and talks to the women. She
has her own latchkey, and asks no ques-
tions."
So this was the life she led!
l w nat Was 1t tndl ndQ DOunu HtT VIII
so strong a tie to the woman who had died
that day? The one of patrician descent.
and with great wealth nobly dispensed. The
other, poor, unknown, toiler for her bread
In great city.
| Bertram's heart contracted with a sud-
den pain as he recalled a sentence she had
uttered that afternoon. 1t was her sole
reference to the dead. 81 owe everything
4 le
saved me from an awful fate
He had not realized it at the time; now
he thought he knew. He saw his fair
Madonna-a repentant Magdalene, trying to
wash out the past by holding out hand of
rescue TO her sisters.
A poor. sad little unit in the city, A
wrecked life. and present of sordid condi-
tions
But he loved her.
|
"Bertram, you will never know what your
mother has sacrificed to you. You are
breaking my heart, boy
Mother. wait and see her before you
judge. She is woman to grace any mans
home
"She has never confessed to YOU"
.''She has told me all l want to know
Mrs. Keen sighed deeply. She was a
stately lady, who suited well the massive
furniture and handsome draperies of the
old town house in which she dwelt with her
son. the pride of her life.
This was the bitterest moment she had
ever known, but she showed no weakness.
She was waiting to receive Bertram's prom
ised bride. who was coming to dinner that
evening. Marion had insisted that she
would not be fetched, and Bertram was