The Prince George's enquirer and southern Maryland advertiser. (Upper Marlborough, Md.) 1882-1925, 1904-02-12
of shame, remorse and passion. Sud
denly he dropped on his knees beside
her, and put his arms round her with
a roughness that was almost brutal.


a roughness that was almost brutal.
"What does it matter to your be
said in her ear you've got me-not
that other. marry to please my
father; no, not to please him, but be.
cause, unless I do it, I'm a beggar.
Do YOU understand? What if l marry
her, ell? l love you-you--you-'
His voice choked, and be covered the
hands he had dragged from her face
with kisses. She lifted her pale face
and looked at him with wet, wild eyes.
"Why should you care?' he went
on. "Do you think am going to
leave you for her?' He laughed a lit.
tie, savage laugh under his breath.
MY father may marry me to her if be
p!eases--but cant chain me to her
petticoat, l suppose-eh, little one1'
His voice softened curiously. you're
mine-always.' he said.
She looked at him for an instant
longer. Then, sbivering little, she
drew her bands from his. The deadly
pallor of her face struck him dumb.
did you think l was that sort
Jean?' she asked
He knelt beside her in silence. Re,
proach could have struck no deeper
1t was not anger in her voice-it was
surprise; and it cut him, like knife
"You think would do-that," she
said, slowly, land yet you say you
love me. You marry her for the
money she has-and yet you say you
love me!'
There was silence again. he hung
his head under the gaze of her accusing
eyes.
"It's true enough he said, 81 dc
love you. Do you want to see me
begging by the roadside, eh? Is that
what you call lover He laughed an
grily. cloves a. fine thing when the
seas smooth" he said, "but it isn't
worth dying for, little one. When a
mans offered bread in one hand and
love in the other-well, he doesn't
choose love"
She rose from the rocks and drew
her faded skirt away from him. There
was kind of horror in her face. He
saw it, and caught at her skirt, miss
ing it.
"Where are you going, eh?' be said
quickly. "What do you mean to do?'
She turned and looked back at him
for second, with dull eyes.
II don't know where I'll CO." she
said, simply; 81 don't know what Ill
| do"
He sprang to his feet and made a
step after her, but the look on her face
held him back.
"Not that" she said. "Yeu shall
never touch me again. A man doesn't
choose love Go back-to
your bread!''
Jean Modesto sat late that night in
the cafe. He was moody and sullen,
and received the fluctuations of his
friends upon his approaching marriage
with singular lack of geniality. The
rough jokes proper to the occasion
only elected a growl from him in reply,
and at last his fellow fishers let him
alone, to drink his wine in peace.
He drank more than was good for
him, enough to have made him drunk
on any other night. On this, however,
the strong black stuff left him as. it
found him, little more sullen and
silent, perhaps, but otherwise the same.
More than one curious glance was
cast at his gloomy face before the end
of the evening. His father met him
in the dark inn passage, slouching out
to his shed, and glanced at him with a
suspicious eye. Black Georges Mod
este had never quite made out his
silent son.
You'll go out to the nets at dawn" 4"
he said. Take the old boat, and
don't go on to the Camel Rock. It'll
be a bit thick out there before morn
ing"
Jean growled some inarticulate re
sponse, and passed on. He banged
the door of the little shed which served
him for bedroom, and stumbled saw
agely against pile of baskets. The
moonlie ht was falling brig ghtly through
the scrap of window upon the crudely-
colored Virgin and Child pinned on
the wall. His eyes, caught 10y the
CLEAN of yellow hair under tue Madon-
mas white veil, rested upon the picture
for moment. The CLEAN of gold, the
fair, pale face, struck him with sud-
den uncomfortable stab of remembrance.
Turning from the picture with some
thing between an oath and sob, he
flung himself, face downwards, upon
the bod
a, II,