The Washington herald. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1906-1939, 1907-09-08
CHAPTER XVIII.
As n Man Soyvs.

$4,000 @&1 AA@A 49,
As Man SOyys.
The sun rose next morning upon a daz-
zling wonder world in which. in earth or
heaven. there were but two colors. blue
and white, but such blue and such white,
Nothing could change the contours OF
the eternal peaks. but down in the val
ley every shape and outline was smoothed
or wholly concealed by the muffiing man
tie Of ineffable white. A keen frost had
crisped the surface which, while il made
walking possible. rendered the task OF
clearing the railway all the harder, while
the road was even more unfavorable for
a carriage.
II any case. IsObel was. however. hard
II fit 10 travel Her adventure in the
snOwstOrm-at least Lady Stormont sup
posed that 20 be the caUse-had left her
feverish and excited. She started at
every football. every sound as If she
were on the strain Of expectation.
rs my father out?" she asked at last
abruptly; Il have not seen him this morn
ing"
He went out early. but he may have
come in again, said Lady StOrmont. both
surprised and pleased that Isobel should
ask for her father IF YOU will promise
me 10 rest for little. shall go and see
The great deserted place seemed more
silent than usual as she went 20 Sir
David's room in search Of him. What
had become Of every one? she wondered.
Conyers had sent up a message Of in
quiry for Isobel, but she had seen moth
ing OF him nor of Ashe that morning;
though the latter was no cause for regret.
The room was still empty, but conspicu-
Gus on the writing table was a bulky en-
velOpe which, 70 her surprise. was ad-
dressed 70 herself. She looked az IL won
deringly for a moment before K occurred
to her TO open H.
After one glance az the first few sen
fences she swiftly crossed the room and
locked the door. She would need silence
and solitude for what lay before her.
Marian, my dear wife, dearer than
ever 10 me, though OF late I have given
YOU little reason 20 think So" the letter
began. will you read now what once
thought I would keep from you with my
last breath, but now, whether I am doing
right or wrong, I can keep 1t from you
no longer. / cannot deceive you. cannot
let you believe a lie any longer-you, who
have ever been the soul Of truth and
loyalty, and I can tell YOU now, as at
against you. I have not. as / dreaded,
done you the last deep and deadly wrong.
though God knows il would have been
in ignorance. That burden, al least has
been lifted from me; had il been laid
upon me, too, my punishment would have
been. indeed. greater than I could bear.
Marian. will you try 10 believe, though
as you read this IL may we'll seem i'm
possible 10 you. that all my life from the
very first I have loved you? 4 woman
like you. who has but the one love 10
give. deep and true and lasting, can
hardly comprehend the wanderings OF a
young mans fancy-hOw his eyes and
his feelings are ensnaTed for a time. till
he wakes up from the feeting dream to
reality again, to find. perhaps. that brief
madness had laid waste his whole life
If 1t were only his own, Try. in mercy TO
NE. though. 10 think Of this as you read.
AT frs. I did not understand my own
heart I was fOolishly impatient as a
young man sometimes is. that my life
was so thoroughly mapped out for me.
Everything was so well arranged. so
we'll organized, that though when the
time came, and Sir David stepped into
the place of Sir Malcolm, there could
hardly De any change, the old traditions
must be continued. everything would go
on as usual I seemed to see the life
that lay before me TO its minutest de-
tail: even my wOOing was planned for
me. I was TO wed my cousin Marian,
and. dear 10 me though she was, and
though I had the grace 10 know that I
did not deserve my good fortune, I had
the Young mans passion for the new, the
unknown. the untried. I wanted some
thing more than the future OF jogtrot
ease and comfort which seemed TO lie
before me. That autumn, perhaps you
remember, I went to Sutherlandshire. ]
wanted some Devastating. some wilder
sport than the Stormont moors could give.
and there. in an evil day for her, met
Elsie Macleod.
"You have never heard Of her exist
ence; once my chief hope. my life effort.
was that you never might; but you have
seen her name-it is written on that Tes-
tament-the sole possession which IsObel
brought home with her.
when on one of these long magical
northern evenings I first saw Elsie start
out from among the bracken by the side
of a lonely moorland loch, she seemed
| like some shy creature OF the wilds. akin
/ to the cloudy hills and the silent glens
| like the fleet kinds Next day 1 saw
| her sitting, prim and demure. in the
empty, barnlike kirk. where her grand
father, good old man, half blind and half
deaf, droned out his weekly sermon 70
some half dozen people. In that bare.
dusty place, amid these one or two
weather-worn old people. little Elsie. in
her quaint frock and bonnet. which might
have been her mothers. looked like SOME
tender Seeding blooming amid granite
bowlders-and she died despairing In
workhouse ward-truly we men know
not what we do. But she had wild. hot
blood in her, too. Her father. a scape-
grace lad. had run away from college
and enlisted in a regiment bound for
India: but he had the old Highland fight.
| ing spirit in him, and in the Mutiny he
so distinguished himself that he was ga
zetted captain, and. further. so won tbs
| favor Of his late cOlonel's daughter that
! they made a runaway match. Her fam
/ lily never fOrgave her marriage with a
ranker, though he had some of the best
| Highland blood in his veins. Had he
lived. he would doubtless have made a
name and a place for himself. but he was
/ killed in an obscure skirmish, and the
poor young wife went home 10 the old
grief-stricken father and 10 the lonely
manse amid the misty northern hills
Gro BE CONCLUDED NEXT sunday
copyrighted, 1901, b. North American COmranyl