The San Juan islander. [volume] (Friday Harbor, Wash.) 1898-1914, 1905-10-21

robbed him Of"
"a thousand pounds! I'll think it
over"
CHAPTER XXI.
Mary went to plead with David for
her uncle. He was IN the deserted farm
yard of Berry, with its tumble-down
buildings. He leaned against the gate,
thinking always Of the fields he had lost,
and the way in which they had been
taken from him. OF course his first
thought was to get out Of her way.
"Don't run away, David" she said;
81 came to talk with you"
| "Wel!. come through the gate then,
Mary. VIII you talk in the cottage, or
will you talk here?
LET US stay outside-here In the
shade, David. When will you cease to
worry your uncle?'
ibid he tell you that l worry him
Has he been complainant
M Z a. sysn g ssnIs. TIT .S you have
to have fallen upon him. But / know
that 1t Is caused by you. After every
one Of your morning visits he is miser-
able. Every day he grows more nervous
and more irritable. He sheds tears when
he is alone. am quite sure that you are
the cause Of his trouble"
| "Well. Mary, perhaps you are right.
may be the cause of it. Perhaps l
may be the cause Of good deal more
trouble than have DONE"
| "Oh! David, think-he is an old man;
he is afflicted with paralysis; you are
fastening his end. What good will 1t
do to you IL you worry him into his
grave? Will that restore the past? Will
that make you what you used to bey'
NAY, that it will not do. But when
| see him at my mercy, crying for pity
think of the day when I came to ask
him to lend me poor fifty pounds. with
which to try my luck in Canada, and he
laughed me in the face"
| well, then. David, does it do you
any good to remember that day? Let
the past be dead, David, and live for the
future"
"You don't know what you are saying,
| Mary. What should you know about it :?
| You are only girr'-he spoke roughly
! and rudely, but not unkindly-"what do
you know? Let the past be dead. Why,
| all the world il crying because the past
won't die. l only wish the past would
| die" Here, it seems to me, David hit
upon a profound truth; for very nearly
| all the world-not quite-it would be,
unhappily, far better if the past would
die. IF the past should die, Mary,
| should forget that was once substan-
| tial maa, who sat respected at the mar
| ket ordinary, rode my own horse. and
farmed my own land. l should forget
that l had to go away from my native
place and take ship with the lowest emf
grants. 1 should forget-Mary," he
| whispered, Il can trust you-I have told
no one else should forget that I had
been in prison-yes, in prison
David" She shrank from him, but
| recovered, and laid her hand softly unon
his.
| Yes; in prison. And now l am no
| longer fit to sit and talk with George
| and you. But l am fit to talk with INV
uncle, because, bad as am, he is worse"
But if he is, David, forgive him.
| II will worry him." said David, "as
| long as l can. l will never spare him.
| I've got another But never mind
Oh! when you are gone, Mary, he shall
| have a life that he little dreams of nowv'
David! 1t is terrible. Can nothing
move your
| Nothing, Mary; not even you. And
mind you, don't try to put yourself be-
! tween him and me, because he won't
stand it. 1t isn't me that won't stand it,
because don't greatly care who knows;
but it's him. He likes me to come; he
| watches for me and waits for me.
though he knows that when l am gone
| hn ruiu %1Vwn nj ~ L
| and cry and curse. Yet he wants ma
back. Say no more about it, Mary"
1t was indeed useless to try further
persuasions. Mary was silent Her
cousin, worked up by his wrath, stood
before her with purple cheeks and fam
ing eyes.
| Il must 60 away soon," she said. 81
cannot let George go out into the world
without any one. And then must leave
him-alone."
Eyes; but he will have me-" said Da-
vid, grimly.
| well, have said what came to say,
David, and haze done no good. If you
would only forget"
| Il cannot forget. Stay, Mary: one
thing l must say. Remember afterward
that l said it in time. Then, perhaps,
you'll think that if it hadn't been for
him | might have been a different man.
What is 1t, David?''
ST is this" His face softened the
moment he ceased to think upon his
wrongs. 1t was but the wreck Of face
which had once been handsome and full
Of hope; but it was better and healthier
to look upon than the face black with
revenge. will tells me that you are
going to marry George without your un-
cle's consent r
"Yes."
You know that he must then give me
the whole of my aunt's money r
Yes"