The citizen-Republican. (Scotland, Bon Homme County, S.D.) 1???-19??, 1905-03-16

| ried him to his home with needless
haste.
He dined lightly. and drank but lit
tie wine that evening; then passing
into his study he gave orders that he
was not to be disturbed.
Electric light strove to brighten this
cosy room with its thick carpet, and
heavy h%angings, its bookshelves con
tanning rare and handsomely bound
volumes. many OF them first editions
and presentation copies from their au-
thors. Fencing foils he had brought
from Toledo hung over his portrait,
! and around the library We're othercuri-
osities he had gathered in various cit
les and c~ontinents-an ivory lido
struggled from a Persian temple; a
! Turkish scimitar, which had severed a
Christian head; a Itinerary statuette
in green glazed pottery he had I'M
earthed in Egypt: a mosque lamp of
ancient date; a scarab OF the time of
Amenemhat II. Each had some pleas
ant recollection attached to it.; all he
valued. Therefore he looked upon
them with sad eyes, reluctant TO say
farewell.
AS he lay back IN his chair before
his desk, the despair that blinds hope.
letters joy. and brushes vitality, came
upon him; but striving to rise above
these feelings. he set himself to his
i'''Fss L iSi' IiN"tS Y" StSll
traces and menlentoes of his past life
as he deemed too sacred for other eyes
TO look Upon when he had gone. And
next he made a will leaving pensions
to his servants. dividing his valuables
among a few friends, and bequeathing
all else he possessed to Olive Dunn
barton.
It was hard that while in the enjoy
ment of vigor and vitality he should
make preparations for what was to
happen a few hours later. when men
would count him among the dead He
was intelligent enough to know life
could not end here. and the dread of
what might come vas full upon him.
Yet he did not finch from his pur-
pose.
With overwhelming sadness he be-
gan a letter to his cousin, whom he
might never see again, and whom he
addressed now for the last time. And
while he wrote. the pain and despair
within him grew until tears blinded
his eyes and fell upon the page. More
than once he laid down the pen as if
unable to continue, and her again be-
gan, eager to finish his task, yet re-
luctant to say the final word fare
well to her he loved. And this was
what he wrote:
MY Dear Olive: I begin by i'm
plorlng you to forgive me for the cruel
wrong l have done you. which now. at
this late hour, l am going to repair.
When a few days ago you said George
Bostock a not committed murder,
your woman's instinct was right; your
faith in him was justified, for it was I
who killed your husband.
When, on the night I dined with
you before leaving England, you told
me of his return, l was flied with un-
easiness, not knowing what steps such
q GPnyn1Ir n1 S,io =, 1r~ ~
and defraud you. I ought to have re-
manned by you, l, your only male rela-
tive, but my desire for pleasure was
too strong for my sense of duty, and
l went. While in Paris my anxiety
increased, but even then l debated with
myself as to whether 1 should return
or continue my journey. I decided on
the latter, n then wrote and posted
to you the letter and book which
reached o that unhappy night. No
sooner, however, than l had done SO,
than the heartlessness of my onduc
IN leaving you unprotected became
plain. and l determined to return and
see for myself what course he had
taken. AS my stay might be brief I,
left my luggage behind and did not re-
turn to my house, then in charge of a
caretaker.
On arriving "a Charing Cross L
stayed at the Eagle Hotel, and after a
late dinner set out for 1Iixton road
with the intention Of surprising you.
Reaching there I caught atght of a
man walking stealthily up and down
in front of your house. My first i'm
pulse was to accost, my second to
watch him, for which purpose I with
drew to the opposite side of the road.
He disappeared, but finally returned,
when saw him open the gate. BY
this time l had recognized him as
Dumbarton, n going over, 1 caught
hold Of his shoulder and flung him
aside. Bitter words followed; he
struck me and l clutched him by the
throat, suddenly l felt a sharp pain in
my left shoulder, when, in a moment
of passion, ! snatched the knife with
which | was stabbed from his hand,
n struck him with it in the breast.
Startled by what 1 had done and by
the fear OF its consequences, l rushed
from the spot, until hearing a servants
cries and seeing a policeman, 1 paused,