The Republican. [volume] (Mountain Home, Idaho) 1903-1909, 1905-10-31
In the direction Of che lord

| warden.
Arriving at that famous hostelry he
made a certain inquiry OF the waiter
who came forward to meet him To
which the reply was, that the gentle
man referred to had crossed by the
boat that morning and had engaged a
private sitting room, leaving word that
be expected a friend from town, who
was to be shown up Immediately on
giving his name.
"My name is Burritt" was the reply.A
"Then please to walk this way. sir
The man ushered him up flight of
stairs and along a corridor, then, in
dicating a particular door, said: This
| is the room the gentleman has taken"
Il will announce myself" said Mr.
Burritt, and the man withdrew.
Then, after a pause Of few sec
onds, he tapped lightly at the door A
voice from within cried: Come in"
and answering the summons he turned
| the handle and entered The occupant
of the apartment, tall, lean, elderly
man. who was looking out of the win
dow, turned round sharply and con-
fronted the visitor A look-a strange,
wondering, intent look-passed be-
tween them. Then, the stranger,
made step forward. "Silas" he
cried. "At last!"-and the men grasp
ed hands.
Then followed brief and impress
sive silence during which each eager
" scanned the features of the other,
and which Mr.. Burritt was the first to
to break.
James he said, and there were
traces of considerable emotion in his
voice, you are much changed. |
should hardly have known you
Changed" exclaimed the other,
somewhat bitterly; land in twenty
years, Is it to be wondered at?"
Then, with an alteration of tone, But
| should have know you anywhere,
Silas."
Twenty years." repeated his friend.
"Ah, well, so it is! How quickly the
years have flown. 1t seems nothing
like that to me-"
ut is that, all the same" said the
other. 1T is twenty years to the very
day. This is the oath of April 1884.
1t was the oath of April, 1864, when
you said goodbye to me on board the
vessel in which | was to sail to a new
country"
1T is a long time to remain an
exile-a voluntary exile" said Mr. Bur-
rift; you might have returned years
ago, had you chosen"
The other man shook his head
gloomily. Il have kept my word
he said. you remember my last
speech to you? said, 4 am
going to begin a new life-to make
my fortune. In twenty years, if have
zone SO, shall return. By that time
I may hope that my crime will have
been forgotten. 1t may be that in
twenty years some of those who know
my wretched story will be dead may
even be dead myself; but, if not, |
shall return to the country | am now
twenty years the disgrace which now
furnishes my name will be blotted out
and forgotten. Until then, FAREWELL
And now" he continued, the term
OF my self-imposed Punishment is at
an end. have kept my word and |
have returned"
Mr.. Burritt laid his hand upon his
friends shoulder.
You Judge yourself too harshly,"
he said the word crime is too Sc
we're a one to apply to that youthful
indiscretion-sin, if you will-repented
of as soon as committed"
Repentance" cried the other, i'm
patiently; what is the good of repent
ance? Will it recover a lost reputa-
ton and wipe out stain upon the
past? The fortune | went to seek is
mine, but | would give it all for an
unblemished record so that | might
not be ashamed to look any man in the
face. All Silas! it is terrible thing
to think that child of mine should
ever blush for her father"
You are married, them" inquired
Mr.. Burritt, gladly Selling the oppor-
tunity thus offered of changing the
dismal subject. is your wife with
your
l am a widower," was the reply.
My wife died twelve years ago leav-
ing me with one child-a daughter"
Tell me all about your daughter"
said Mr.. Burritt, "and how you came
to make up your mind to part with her
for SO long? have daughter of my
oWn-as well as the son who was born
before you left England-and though I
have been threatening to pack her off
to boarding school for the last four
or five years, never could reconcile