The Washington times., 1904-05-08
CHAPTER V.
In Which 1 Garry Things With a High
Hand

Auburn Prison. Been gone since early
yesterday morning"
| 1 sank into a chair and feebly held
out my hand for the dispatch.
Reading the brief telegram that had
been sent to James did not at first re-
'ieve me or add to my knowledge. I sat
there in a stupor. while James walked
up and down the room. now more agi-
tated than ever
Il cannot understand it, he said. IAN
escape from Auburnl I thought it inn
possible. But the man will be retaken.
He cannot get very far away."s
1t was evident that the thought which
was soaring its way into my brain had
not occurred to my astute cousin.
| Soon after that we went to bed. James,
with HIS usual strength Of will. threw off
his agitation and slept soundly. There
was no sleep for me. The morning sun
came in at my window.
I undressed and lay down on my bed.
but my eyes would not close in sleep.
Ny brain seemed to be on fire.
| The telegram to James explained
things harshly 1t explained why Beat
rice had cried out TO the man at the
window that 1 was a cousin of James
Stage. II explained why she had cast
aside all letters but one, and had taken
the one making the appointment for the
meeting at the church.
l understood then why the man had
not been alarmed at the presence of the
bay. He had expected the girl to ride
10 the church, and no doubt supposed
the horse was hers.
left my bed and paced up and down
the room. I could hear the servants be-
ginning 10 stir. A new day was break
ing into life What would II bring?
Ny braI> was like a mill, grinding out
thoughts, and after they had been
turned over and over. casting them forth
to make room for new ones. was con-
scious that I was not thinking with my
usual good judgment or skill.
l was in whirl. a tumult of excite
ment. that dulled my senses In some re-
spects, while ii rendered me acute in
others.
In all, through all. and above all,
saw that tear stained and beautiful face
1t was clear to me now that the Lees
had been utterly mistaken in their &C.
cusation against the girl they had mar
ried 10 me at the pistols point.
The fact was patent thai Beatrice had
not eloped with a lover. She had run
away with her father.
The more studied the thing, the more
convinced 1 became. But this view Of
the case brought new emotions, new
doubts and fears. ---r
The girl was very young Admitting
that which now seemed certain. that
she was innocent of all connection with
any other man. innocent of any clandes-
tine love. free from any impure thought
or motive, actuated only by her love for
her father, and her undying belief in his
innocence. what then. became my duty?
She was my wife. Argue as I might
rage at the Lees as / would, the fact
remained that until the law, at her re-
quest or mine, set her free, she was my
wife.
As walked the floor in my perturba-
ton, 1 rehearsed the story of the crime
and trial. Might Robert Forrest, after
all. not have been perfectly innocent?
James, I knew, was a strong advocate
for his side Of any case 1 had read
much of his work before courts and
Juries. a 4 knew that his summing I'D
speeches usually carried conviction. j
knew, further. that his zeal in a criminal
procedure was all for the success of
his case. Had he been fair with Robert
Forrest?
l sat down by the open window and
let the June fan my fevered
cheeks. tried 10 think clearly; TO study
out my proper course.
I hated the Lees with a hatred as
violent as il had been sudden in its
birth. That the parson was honest in
his convictions. I did not doubt
But James-the young man who had
sent his cousins father to prison on his
testimony as an eyewitness-could he
have NbOrne false testimony?
had no sympathy with feIons. The
mawkish sentiment that makes a hero
Of murderer filled me always with
disgust. I firmly believed in capital
punishment
But with the man convicted wrongly
felt great sympathy. Perhaps, the
memory OF the pure. white tear stained
face warp my judgment II So 1 Of |
fer no excuse. There are times when |
the strongest Of us give way to senti- |
ment. I knew one thing-I felt sorry |
for Beatrice.
But being sorry was not the solution |
OF my problem.
She was my wife. I had promised I
her, when under the impression that /
she was going away with her lover, TO l
$50 "a GO AASAAA a gSAsl NiAelA must ]
seem hateful 10 her. 1 meant 10 keep /
that promise.
But how? II she had gone with her /
father; If all her relatives and friends |
had turned against her; If that pure /
young girl, ignorant Of the world was |
10 De buffeted by the storms and waves .
OF distress and adversity; If she was to /
be bounded over the land by the sleuths
OF the law; If she had, in her firm be-
lief In her fathers innocence, cut loose
from all protection. what, then, was my
duty?
or course. II both escaped, reached a
Tar country, and began life anew, Bea-
trice would be sheltered in her fathers
love
But James was confident that Forrest
would be captured When, then, Of Bea-
trice?
She could not return to her uncle's
house She could not claim the protec-
ton OF those who ought 10 stand by
her in any trouble. To whom should she
turn2 What would be her fate?
II Forrest was captured and returned
T. Auburn, would the girl not be sent
drift on n world where her youth and
eeauty would prove a snare and her Ill
innate ruin?
These things swept through my
Grain like soaring irons Perhaps l