Pullman herald. [volume] (Pullman, W.T. [Wash.]) 1888-1989, 1905-05-27
CHAPTER XXIv.-(ContinuedJ


1t was in altered tones. Tell me what
you want2 Is it money!
Money! she cried. M >ney from
you! Look here" and she tore open a
lady's reticue that lay upon the table;
there are the two hundred dollars you
sent me enclosed in your farewell letter;
look what l do with them" And she
tore them into shreds. Here are the
presents you gave me; see what ! do
with them" And she took out some
trinkets, and crushed them beneath her
feet. Now will you ask me if it is
money l want of your"
Her face was something awful to look
upon in its deathy pallor, and convul-
sive quivering, and those garing eyes.
That man, with all his iron will, quailed
before her.
what do you want, thenY
Respect, and | will have il. Let me
refresh your memory. You found me in
a travelling show. l was a mere child
then, possessed of a strange power over
certain minds-a power that to an am
bilious, INSCRIPTIONS schemeT like your
self, might one day prove invaluable.
You saw no way to use me at the time,
but you were 10th to lose sight of so ad-
mirahle an instrument. You wormed
yourself info my confidence, and got
from me that | was discontinued with
a mode OF life which gave me but a
bare living and filled the pockets of my
employer. | was vain of the attention Of
a fine gentleman who had been
brought up in a back alley. You told
my father that if he liked to go to Bury
St Edmund's you would help to set
him up in business-that you would rec
ommend him custom, as you possessed
some influence in the neighborhood"
Have you ever had reason to repent
taking my counselT
my father hit upon a more easy and
profitable trade than shoemaking," she
went on, not needing the interruption.
Had we depended upon your promises,
we might have starved. You thought no
more of them, and years elapsed after
our parting at Spalding before l ever
heard anything Of you again. One day
we met in the streets of Bury. Although
years had elapsed we recognized each
other instantly. You expressed great
delight at the meeting, which certainly
was not feigned, as it gave into your
hands the exact tool you required, to
schemes that was ever Matched in hui
man brains. But before you dared to
propose it to me it was necessary to
make me your slave. When you last
saw me | was an ungainly looking ugly
girl; now | was a well-grOwn woman,
with good looks enough to have secured
several offers of advantageous marriage.
But | was proud, ambitious; the life
l led, and all its associations, were hate
full to mel longed to be free of them
ALL and | waited ana waited. You, with
your fendish cunning, OWNED my secret;
professed love for me. Blinded by am
bition and vanity, l believed you-be-
lieved that you, the fine gentleman,
would marry me. But at that time you
simply lied, to serve your own purpose
You were very cautious. too-you bound
me down to breathe no word of your
secrets to my father You said, once
In his power, you would never be free
from his extortions."
"Silence!" Numbered Rodwell. spring
ing TO his feet.
well, enough of that for the pres
ent. After the girls flight you left
Bury, and | did not see you again for a
long, long time. At last, you returned.
So you have got her into your clutch
again. What is it to be this time-mur-
der or marriageY
How my heart leaped Could it be
Clara of whom she was speaking? The
portrait | had seen in his namesake's
cottage-the likeness to her, forgotten
until that moment, flashed upon me with
the force of conviction. Oh, how eager
ly. how breathlessly, | listened now.
How dare you speak such words to
me in the presence Of Stranger he
cried. You are venomo"s enough to en-
deavor to establish such a charge against
mel!
II believe you to be capable of any
crime, John Rodwell," she answered. dis
painfully; although you would give the
preference to that which compromised
you least"
Suppose l admit that intend TO mar
ry her. what thenT he demanded, bold
ly. you will seek to thwart me?"
II keep my intentions to myself. But
l had forgotten; perhaps you are not
aware you have a rival?' she said, mock
ingly. "You would not imagine Mr..
Carston in the character of a gay de-
ceiver; yet, | can assure you that, dur
Ing short absence from his loving wife,
he was making violent love to Miss
Clara as a single gentleman, and not
unsuccessfully. | believe"
This is no subject to jest upon" he
said, haughtily. DO you mean to say
that this fellow has dared"
He advanced menacingly towards me:
but, weak as | was, rose up, and con-
fronted him. | felt no fear of him. al
though | was too agitated to speak-too
overwhelmed by the thoughts OF my
worse than powerless position.
He paused; then, with look OF SUI
preme scorn, he turned upon his heel and
addressed Judith. Such an object is too