Camas Prairie chronicle. [volume] (Cottonwood, Idaho) 1901-1917, 1906-09-21
CHAPTER Xxx.


This is my story. Let It plead with
you"
1t had grown dark in the prison, and
as he ceased speaking, Rufus Dawes felt
trembling hand seize his own. 1t was
that of the chaplain.
"Let me hold your hand! Sir Rich
ard Deyine did not murder your father.
He was murdered by a hOrseman who,
riding with him, struck him and fed"
How do you know thisT'
Because l saw the murder commit
ted, because-don't let go my hand-I
robbed the body"
"You2"
'In my youth was a gambler. Lord
Bellasis won money from me, and to
pay him / forged two bills Of exchange.
Unscrupulous and cruel, he threatened
to expose me If did not give him dou-
BILE the sum. Forgery was death In
those days, and l strained every nerve
to buy back the proofs Of my folly. 1
succeeded. / was to meet Lord Bellasis
near his own house at Hampstead on the
night Of which you speak, to pay the
money and receive the bills. When
saw him fall galloped up, but instead
Of pursuing his murderer / rihed his
pocketbook Of my forgeries. l was afraid
to give evidence at the trial, or might
have saved you. All! you have let go
my handw
"God forgive your said Rufus Dawes,
and then was silent.
Speak, cried North. Speak, or
you will make me mad. Reproach me!
Spurn mel Spit upon me! You cannot
AbfnIr vynroo nf v,,n
But the other, his head buried in his
hands, did not answer, and, with
wild gesture, North staggered out Of the
cell.
Nearly an hour had passed since the
chaplain had placed the rum flask In
his hand, and Gimblett observed, with
semi-drunken establishment, that It was
not yet empty. If he didn't finish the
flask, he would be oppressed with an
everlasting regret. If he did finish 1t,
he would be drunk; and to be drunk on
duty was the one objectionable sin. He
looked across the darkness of the sea,
to where the rising and falling light
marked the schooner. The eommandant
was a long way off A faint breeze
which had arisen with the night brought
up to him the voices of the boats crew
from the jetty below him. His friend
Jack Mdnnix was coxswain of her. He
would give Jack a drink. Leaving the
gate, he advanced to the edge of the
embankment, and, putting his head over
called out to his friend. The breeze
however, which was momentarily fresh
ening, carried his voice away; and Jack
Mannix, hearing nothing continued his
conversation Gimblett was Just drunk
enough to be virtuously indignant at this
incivility, and seating himself on the
edge of the bank, swallowed the remain.
der of the rum at a draught. The eff
feet upon his enforcedly temperate stom-
ach was very touching. He made one
feeble attempt to get upon his legs, cast
a reproachful glance at the rum bottle.
essayed to drink out of its spirituous
emptiness, and then, with a smile of
reckless contentment, fell fast asleep.
North, coming out of the prison, did
not notice the absence of the jailer; in
deed, he was not in a condition to notice
anything. Bare-headed, without his
cloak, with staring eyes and clinehed
hands, he rushed through the gates into
the night as one who flies headlong from
some fearful vision. It seemed that,
absorbed in his own thoughts, he took
no heed to his steps, for instead Of tax.
ing the path which led to the sea, he
kept along the more familiar one that
led to his own cottage on the hill. ''This
man a eonvictw he cried. ''He Is a hero
Ia martyrl What a lifel Love! Yes,
that Is love indeedl Oh, James North.
how base art thou In the eyes of God
beside this despised outcastp' And so
muttering, tearing his gray hair, and
beating his throbbing temples with
clinched hands, he reached his own
room. Already he fancied he could see
the speck that was the schooner move
slowly away from the prison shore. He
must not linger; they would be waiting
for him ct the jetty. As he turned, the
mOonbeams-as yet unobseured by the
rapidly gathering clouds-hung a silver
streak ACROSS the sea, and across that
streak North saw a boat pass. Was
his distracted brain playing him false