The National tribune., 1903-11-05

may bury, and l, your husband, will stand
sentry over their grave. ALL l ask is your
love"
An expression Of pain swept quickly
over her face, but it was gone in mo-
ment.
I'VE will talk of that in the future
For the present my nerves are a little
shattered and need rest"
Poor, frightened bird, you are right
Go tC your room and rest l will see you
Tomorrow" r..sst
He turned to leave her, when she laid
her hand on his arm.
Well?' he asked.
promise me you will not think i'll of
me-" she said.
''Think i'll of you, my love? How could
To-
"If should seem strange and mystic
rious," she whispered.
mo, Maiina, whatever there may be
strange and mysterious about you, l love
you, and know you are not to blame"
Her pale cheek flushed a moment, then
she grew sad again.
Think no i'll Of me-" she sighed. 81
am not bad. l never have been. Misfor-
tune has followed me from birth, and will
follow me to the grave. We are not al
together the mOlders of our own desti-
MES, and often We are blamed for that
which we could not avoid. But why need
continue talking with you? Good night;
We both need rest-tomorow we shall be
ca Inner"
The negro girl entered with the tea
things, and Uncle Owen went to his own
room, muttering: What care l for the
mystery which enshrouds her? 1 love her!
love her! l love her!
When the girl had poured the tea Ma
lima dismissed her:
"Now, you may go, Sally; you have been
very good to me, and l wish / had some
thing for you"
'Missus don't owe me muffin; Marster
Uncle Owen pay me-"
Il have been very ungrateful to you,
Sally. / have repaid your kindness with
strange Indifference, and seem migrate
fup'-
"No, missus, amt got no cause to COM
plain; she treat me all right"
Now, Sally, / want to thank you to-
night, and through you, thank all the other
kind servants. Be sure you tell them"
Sally promised, and left the parlor,
shaking her head and muttering to her
self:
'.She don't talk right; she don't talk
No sooner was Malina alone than she
seized velyet-cOvered album, opened it,
and quickly extracted a picture from it.
1t was a photograph OF the kind face of
Owen Redgraye.
at is the only theft ever committed.
God forgive me-" she murmured, frantic
ally pressing the picture to her lips. II
it, but God, who alone knows my heart,
will forgive me. l must have it He
would give. it to me. but / dare not ask
him for it."
Again she kissed the picture, then con-
cealed it in her bosom, and FASTENED to
ready for journey. Whittier she was
going Heaven alone knew, for she had
not the re,Gptest idea. With tears start
ing anew down her cheeks, she gathered
up her few effects and made them into a
bundle.
81 cannot stay here" she sobbed. "No
longer dare / remain beneath his roof. God
have mercy on me. how will all this end q
To gather up her effects required but
| few minutes, for all she possessed made
but a small bundle, and when she had
| made it up, she sat down to think and
wait While the house was still awake
she dared not attempt flight. One after
another the lights in different rooms were
eXtinguished and when all seemed buried
in sleep, and the house quiet, she silently
slipped to the hall. Slowly and cautiously
she descended the stairs and passed out
into the great yard, which she crossed
and entered the road. The moon shone
down kindly upon the lonely wanderer.
1t was n broad thoroughsare. with for
ests on either side, along which she hur.
ried. Suddenly she became conscious OF
| the near presence of others. Two men
| were coming up the road, and not wish,
ing to meet any one, she crept aside into
some thick bushes, and waited for them to
pass on. They were talking seriously.
and as they drew nearer, she recognized
| one as John RedgraYe.
| ~ hate her," John WINS saying in a
thick, maudlin tone: "She is an adven-
turess, and wants Uncle Owens money
tell you. we've got to git rid of her
some way
"Mought skeer her away, John" sug-
gested bis companion.