The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939, 1904-05-21

Bob" Kissed out Rosa, In tremul-
Gus voice.
He answered by hoarse laugh.
Let me in" said he.
CHAPTER XII.
LET me in!'' repeated Robert Bur-
net, more peremptorily than before.
But Rosa made no attempt to obey
him. She stood clinging to the
mantelpiece, and staring at him over
her shoulder with white and scared
face, without uttering another word.
He put his injured hand again thru
the hole he had made in the window,
and tried to find the catch. He had
notsyet noticed Beatrice, who was at
the door, for his attention had been
exclusively occupied with his wife.
The young widow had conquered
her first impulse to run away, a. 1ect-
| ing rapidly that she would do well, if
possible, to learn what attitude the
artist meant now to take up, and
wife, she would give up the struggle
and confess the truth to him.
| 1t was the work of a few seconds
only for the man to find the catch OF
| the window. AS he touched it. Rosa,
suddenly awakening from sort of stu
por into which his unexpected appear
ance seemed to have thrown her, ut
tered a low cry and ran up the long
room towards the door. Before she
could reach it, however, Burnet had
contrived to open the window, and as
he did so he Numbered out "stop!" in
a tone which she dared not disobey.
Perceiving that there was no help
for it, that she must meet and listen
| to him, Rosa dared only put out a
trembling hand toward Beatrice, NUT
tering in an imploring whisper:
Don't go! Don't go! Don't leave
l oil will Il t,o,t WV fy,ai1 p
Beatrice could not but feel that
these fears were well founded, the
more so that a distinct change for the
better had taken place in the artists
appearance change which seemed
to prove the possession of good deal
of cunning on his part. For the po-
lice, who had been advised, on the
night Of his escape from Catherington
| House, to look out for man in a
ragged coat with long hair and un-
trimmed beard, might we'll have failed
to recognize by such description the
man who now forced his way into the
Stone Court drawing-room, and stood,
with folded arms and eyes ablaze, face
to face with the wife who had
wronged him.
His ragged coat had given place to
one which, tho shabby, was at least
whole. His beard was trimmed, and
now, with his dark hair cut to a rea-
sonable length and pushed back from
a broad, white forehead, helped tt
give him a sort of dignified pic.
i turesqueness. With his marble-white
! face, straight, black eyebrows, anc
: cleaning eyes, Beatrice thought, with
. a shudder, that his face would have
> served as a model for the destroying
angel. There was a fire in his eye!
which was unearthly, terrible; and the
: wierd silence in which he waited 70,
!. the woman to speak first increased thu
t tragic awe which his looks excited
: not only in Beatrice, but also in he
s companion.
t The guilty woman felt that Their
g was no escape; and Beatrice, whom
Y she had stealthily approached, com
It ing step by step backwards to the doc
It until she was able to clutch her arm
It in OBTAINING grasp, felt that she wa
I trembling from head to foot.
, Finding herself forced, as if unde
a a spell, to speak, to excuse hersel1
q Rosa began, in a voice which wa
!. broken and unsteady, try as she woul
to seem at her ease:
Bob, is 1t really you? What d
:, you want with me?"
Ii The dead silence with which he me
the question made her sick and fair
q with apprehension. Half-turning
81 her companion, tho she still kept he
IS eyes fixed on the gaunt figure in tn
a middle Of the room, Rosa whispered
d 'Let me sit down, or I shall fall
: The room is going round me. This
n. awful, horrible If he'd only speak!
Both the terrified women RENAME
1T under the spell Of the mans gleamin
W eyes as they stumbled and staggere
ut to the nearest couch, where Rosa fe
- upon it., and Beatrice, still a clos
ID prisoner in her nervous grasp, stoo
beside her, scarcely less alarmed tina
to she.
10 For altho she thought that he ha
ID not recognized her as the woma
SO whom he had seen with the child /
he lieve that his recognition could /
IN long delayed.
err It seemed to her as If an hol
passed before he said. shortly:
i'd What have you to say for you
- days. What makes you SO silent nov
.ir Grief, eh? Remorse for having RUNE
he my life? Think not. Come, out vii
g. it! What have you got to say?''
or While he was speaking Rosa WI
ed gradually recovering herself. II
hit ~ silence was broken by the old, o
es lreproaches in the well-remembert
voice. The faithless wife began
Of recognize that, In spite of everythil
/ she had done, she might possess son
of her old power over this man who
M career she had broken. She DIRE
Nc herself up a little and said:
- "Ought you to reproach me? Ha
.er you really the right? Didn't you tt
-. me over and over again that I w
80, worthless, that didn't care for yo
~ that you ought not to have MARI
me?"
He looked at her as If in a dreal
~ Her voice had brought back old tim,
~ 1ae old scenes. 1t was plain that, in spj
~ Of all he had suffered thru her,
, ~ was not proof against herinfuencey
ne The man seemed to be softening, wea
'e- ening, with every moment that he W
ice exposed to the old tones the old will
NY He watched every movement of h
hands, every turn of her head with
'as sort of yelled hunger, as Of one w
IN yearns and longs sorrows and griev
TO for the beauty Of a vision, t
M treasure of dream. Z
dy Beatrice, in spite Of her own da
DIS, ger, of her newly awakened fears /
tie her child, found herself toucht
as moved almost to tears, by the u
speakable sadness of the mans IA
ito the half-ierce, half-despairing look
wn his cavernous eyes. Rosa grew boz
ess er.