The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939, 1906-08-31

fabric will unravel. Poor Clara can
never be acknowledged openly as my
wife, the best and most patient wife a
tence of. death this moment than the
utmost. ingenuity of man could con
trive.' Gordon groaned, and let his
head sink upon his hands. -
'She told me some time ago that she
was i'll, - James said pityingly. ~
"Ill2 She has been upon the execu-
ness; that is too tame word for it:
It is torture, prolonged as only the evil
forces! Of nature herself can pro-
Gordon rose and shook himself an
griy. 81 am keeping her now almost
constantly under morphine" he said.
'eShe has suffered more lately. The
attacks have been more frequent. There
has never been the slightest possibility
Of a surgical operation. From the very
first it was utterly hopeless, and if it
had been the dog there, I should have
put a bullet thru his head and consid-
cred myself a friend.' Gordon gazed
with miserable reflection at the dog:
CT am glad that the direct cause of
that man IS death was not what it might
have been," he said.
He shook himself again as a dog
shakes off water. He laughed miser-
able laugh. "Well,' he said, "Clem-
ency is free now. She can 20 her ways
as she will. You see she resembled her
mother so closely that I had to guard
her from even the sight Of her father.
He would have known the truth. at
once; Glemeney is free, but I have paid aid
your life. If I had not done what you
doubtless know I did that night, you
would have been shot, and it would;
have been a struggle between myself
and her father, with the very good
chance of my. being killed, and Clara
and the girl left defenseless. His re-
volver carried six deaths in it. 1t
would all have depended upon the
quickness Of the dog, and I should have
left too much hanging upon that
IT don't see what else you could
do,' James said in a low voice. He
was pale himself He did not blame
Gordon. He felt that he himself, in
Gordon's place, would have done as he
had done, and yet he felt as if faced
close to a horror of murder and death,
and he knew from the look upon the
other mans countenance that it was
the same with him. -.
81 saw no other way,' Gordon said
in broken voice, '"but-but I don't
know whether [ am murderer or an
executioner, and never shall know.
God help me! Well," he added with a
sigh, "what is done, is done. Let us
o. James said when they parted at his
room door that he hoped Mrs. Ewing
would have comfortable night.
Eyes, she will" replied Gordon n
SSuied5 Then he gave The b1nasg
he whispered. eff this had turned
you against the child, it would have
driven me madden than I am now.
r love her as if she were my own. You
q hold to- r. :"
EtYou can hold to that to the end,''
James returned with warmth, and he
looked at Gordon as !, he might have
looked at his own father. e~ H..
Late as it was, he wrote that night
to his own father and mother, telling
them M3a Of his engagement to clemeney:
secrecy with regard to it: James, in
spite of his vague sense Of horror, felt
an exhilaration at the thought that
now all could be above board, that the
shutters could be flung open. He felt
as if an incubus had rolled from his
mental consciousness. Clemency her
feeae She aPpeared at the se EAST
table the. next morning with her hat.
"Uncle says / may 90 with you on
your rounds,' she said to James. She
beamed, and yet there was a troubled
and puzzled expression on her pretty
face. When she and James had started
country road, she said suddenly, twill
you tell me something
James hesitated.
"Will you90 she repeated.
81 can't promise, dear" he said.
ttWhy. not" she asked pettishly.
tReeause It might be something
You ought to tell me everything if
fl she hesitated, and blushed.
eff what9O asked James tenderly.
She nestled up to him. If YOU
feel toward me as you say you do. s, tss