Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1906-02-23
for The Term of Ills Natural Life

BY MARCUS CLARKE

u, II
terrier ran barking to his feet. 1t was
evident that he was not a constant Wis
itor. The rustic of n silk dress behind
the terrier betrayed the presence of Il
woman; and Frere, rounding the promon-
tory of an ottoman, found himself face
to face with Sarah Purfoy.
THANK you for coming" she said.
Pray sit down."
This was the only greeting that pass
ed between them, and Frere sat down,
in obedience to motion of plump
hand that twinkled with rings. Eleven
years had dealt gently with this woman.
Her foot was as small and her hand as
white as of yore. Her hair was plcn-
tiful and glossy and her eyes had lost
none of their dangerous brightness.
Maurice Frere spoke first; he was
anxious to bring his visit to as speedy
a termination as possible. What do
you want of me?" he asked.
Sarah Purfoy laughed a forced laugh,
that sounded so unnatural that Frere
turned to look at her. 81 want you to
do ne a favor, very great favor; that
is, if it will not put you out of the
way"
what do you mean?" asked Frcrc,
roughly, pursuing his lips with n sullen
air.
She suddenly rose and crossed to
where he was standing.
Maurice, you were very fond Of me
once. Not so very many years ago"
Hang it,! said he, shifting his arm
from beneath her hand, don't let us
have all that stuff over again. Let old
times be old times, Sarah. What do you
want?'
''There was a transport came in this
morning"
"Well?"
you know who was on board her,
Maurice"
Maurice brought one hand into the
palm of the other with rough laugh.
''Oh, that's it, is It? What a fiat
was not to think of it before! You want
to see him, l supposeW
She came close to him, and, in her
earnestness, took his hand. 81 want to
save his lfe"'
Maurice Frere flung her off. 81 tell
you the mans as good as dead, for all
shall do to save him"
At this repulse her pent-up passion
broke forth. She sprung to her feet,
and, pushing back the hair that in her
frenzied pleading had fallen about her
face, poured out upon him torrent of
abuse "You! Who are you that you
dare to speak to me like that? His little
finger is worth your whole body. He is
a man, a brave man, not coward like
you. A coward! Yes, coward!
coward! a coward! You are very brave
with defcnseless men and weak women.
Do not l know you? / have seen you
taunt a man at the triangles until !
wished the screaming wretch could get
loose and murder you, as you deserve.
You will be murdered one of these days,
Maurice Frere, take my word for it.
Men arc flesh and blood, and flesh and
blood won't endure the torrents you lay
on it."
There, that'll do" says Frere, grow
ing paler. Don't excite yourself"
''I'll go to this girl you want to marry,
and tell her all l know of you. I have
seen her in the streets-have seen her
look the other way when l passed her
have seen her gather up her muslin skirts
when my silks touched her--I that nurs-
ed her, that heard her say her baby pray
ers--O, pity mel She would shudder at
you if she would shudder at you if she
knew what l know. Shudder! She
would hate you! And | will tell her!
Ay, will! You will be respectable,
will you? A model husband!"
Frere caught her by both wrists, and
with all his strength forced her to her
knees. Don't speak her name," he said,
in hoarse voice, cor I'll do you a mis-
chief. know all you mean to do. I'm
not such a fool as not to see that. BE
quiet! Men have murdered women like
you, and now l know how they came
to do it. I'll do what you want, on one
condition"
"What?"
"'rhat you leave this place."
"There is nothing in the bargain to
prevent me helping him to escape?"
Escape? He won't escape again, I'll
so bail. Once get him in double-irons at
Port Arthur, and he's safe enough"
She put out her hand rs if nothing
had happened. Good night, Captain
Frere. It's a bargain, then?"
"A bargain"
Getting into the cool street directly.
and seeing the calm stars shining, and
the placid water sleeping with peace in
which he had no share. he strove to cast
off the nervous fear that was on him.
The interview had frightened him, for it
had made him think.
The reader of the foregoing pages has
doubtless asked himself, what is the
link which binds together John Rex
and Sarah Purfoy?'
In the year 1925 there lived, Mt St
Heliers, Jersey, a matchmaker. named
Urban Purfoy. He was hard-work-
ing man, and had amassed little money
sufficient to give his granddaughter an
education above the common in those
days. At sixteen, Sarah Purfoy was
an empty-headed, stroug-willed. preco-
cious girl, with big brown eyes. She
was brimful of vitality, and had little
religious sentiment. She courted noto-
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