Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1905-09-21
CHAPTER XXI.
The Case for the Claimant.

was on the KNOB Wnen ne Saiu, SndTplys
"Stay!'
There was command in his voice. She
opened the door few inches, and then
turned and looked at him in proud surprise.
II wish to CO." she said, with a touch OF
hauteur. There is nothing more to be
said.''
'And I wish you to stay. There Is
great deal still to be said
He went to the door and closed It, She
asked angriy:
Are you going to compel me to stay
against my wll?''
II am going to ask you to listen to my
defense. / have right to claim that, since
you have made accusations against me.
Probably 1 shall fail to convince you that
my motives were good, but demand the
opportunity of stating them. Will you Sit
DOWN."
She stood by the table.
BE as brief as you can she said. WITH
glance Of scorn. mo, l will stand
Il am sorry to seem to be peremptory.
he said, but there are certain things which
others which for my self-respect must tell
you. l may not get another opportunity.
because I have to leave here at o'clock
tomorrow morning.
For good?"- she asked, quickly.
He gave her a steady look. He had been
quick to detect that there was this time no
scorn in her voice as she put the question:;
but there was something else, and he did
not know what It was. Was 1t relief or
was it fear which brought the tremor into
her tones? He would have given great
deal to know.
mo" he answered Il shall come back.
My work here is not done yet"
Your work." The note Of scorn was
plain enough now. "Oh, see! But did
not thinl. you would give it that name!'
You misunderstood me-" he said, quiet
" 10 70 Ind Ior
vey Wiseman is still at large"
Then, because her smile OF contempt hurt
him. he gave her no time to answer, but
went on quickly with his tale. He told her
briefly of the events Of the day, of his dis
covery of what was going on at the distil-
1ery, and Of the steps which he proposed to
take with regard to it. Then he went back
to his meeting with her brother in Oporto
one, and he had stayed a week, where he
had only meant TO stay a day. He did so
because he saw that his old schooiboy
friendship, interrupted in the first place by
a natural divergence of interests, and
broken afterward by crime, was making its
last claim upon him; for Eustace Holland
was plainly dying man. He had met him
at a theater, had gone home with him, had
seen what his manner Of life was, had been
told much and had guessed the rest. He
softened the tale in telling 1t to Mary; for
the plain truth was sordId, and she need
not know It, Eustace Holland had led the
indulgent, superfiuous, shiftless life OF the
remittance-man, and his constitution had
not stood the strain Of the remittance-man's
vices. An attack of pneumonia-which was
threatening on the night when they met al
the theater and had become acute by the
time that Wortley was obliged to leave
Oporto-was the actual cause Of death. He
told Mary this much; but he did not tell her
that the pneumania had done its work the
more surely because 1t found a drink
broken body to work upon.
The girl listened with tragic interest.
and for while forgot her anger against
the man who was telling her the miserable
tale. He halted for a moment, and she
prompted him with question:
And that woman? WY did he marry
herr"
He had known her before he left Eng
land, during the time he was stationed at
Portsmouth. He met her again in Lisbon,
where she had gone as member OF tour
ing circus troupe. He was known there as
Mr. Wortley but she knew well enough
that he was Sir Eustace Holland. The Sc
quel, fancy, was pretty much what she
willed that 1t should be-
did she make him a good wife?" asked
Mary In a low voice. Her resentment
against her brother, whose misdeeds had
manned and stunted the proper develop
ment Of her own life, was forgotten. The
misery of his story was all that she thought
of now. She had pity for the punishment
and forgot the crime that had earned 1t;
the sinner had suffered-then speak no
more Of his SIM And every true woman IS,
to the honor of womankind, another Mary
Holland in this!
Wortley shook his head. II have no
knowledge Of that" he said: but l don't
think they can have been happy, ana
know he did not trust her.
The words ended Mary's mood or sort
ness. She remembered what 1t was to
which her brothers mistrust of his wife
had led. She stiffened at once, and said
coldly:
on"
Her tone stung Wortley into sudden
anger
you make it very hard for me-" he said
almost holly. What right nave you ~
Judge me unheard?"
she answered him with faint smile
II am waiting to hear. You came here
to protect my mother and me, you say
Why did you begin by making US the VIC
tins of falsehood?"
II did not"
You said you were Eustace"
Pardon me- did not / gave you my
true name. 1 said I was Arthur "ortiey'
and you refused to believe me.
She looked at him in scornful amaze
ment, and her lips curled In utter In
credulity that he could descend to SO pail
try a subterfuge.
Are you going to shelter behind quib-
ble?" she asked us your defense so weak
that you can say no more than that?
you will tempt me to say what should
be fool to say now! ne began TechieSSiy,
and then checked himself Let me re-
mind you of the facts. l came here in my
own proper character as Arthur Wortley
and my sole object In doing SO was to
carry out my promise to your brother.
There was no obligation upon me to give
that promise but have old-fashioned noA
tions, which possibly you may scott at,
about the sacredness Of the calls of friend
ship, even when the friendship itself Is
dead Eustace and had been chums once,
and though we had long ceased to have
anything in common, I felt myself to be
in a sense bound by the old comradeship
of our school days. That may sound fan
tastic to you, but it Is plain fact. WIN
you do me the justice to believe that
much?''
Yes" said Mary.
VERY well. The duty which had under
taken was to protect you. Don't forget
that l didn't. The thing / have to Justify
to you is the method which l took In doing
It, Now remember, said l was Wortley,
and you took me to the portrait of your
brother, and laughed at me for maintaining
manifest absurdity. Probably / shall
earn your further contempt when I confess
that at the moment your mistake, and the
knocking way in which you stuck to it.
amused me; and for the mere fun Of the
thing I played with you. But then Lady
Holland came INFO the room. and every