The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1907-09-29
Mr.. Barnes, American
A SEQUEL TO aMR. BARNES OF NEW YORK;

/ Burton, you turned away and said
your immaculate fiancee wouldn't like
it: that you had determined to do moth
ing that would give her pain. Weren'
you giving me pain? Don't you think
/ l felt it, Don't you imagine you owe
! some reparatiOn to me for the days
when you were a boy in Paris, and I
/ steered you through the meshes of the
gay French capital and kept you
! harmless from all other women-be-
cause I loved you?"
To this Barnes dares not reply; he
remembers.
"Ah, you despise me too much to an
swer." she sobs. Then she suddenly
cries; But I forgive even that" for
now into La Belle Blackwood has come
| the reckless spirit that makes her
more dangerous than even her beauty
that desire to have what she must
MOTTO enjoy the fruit that is forbid
/ den You men of the world ape the
saint for a little time when you be-
come husbands of beautiful innocence.
but it never lasts" she pleads. ''You
| will sow your wild oats again after a
! little time. Why not sow a second crop
now. For an hour or two imagine you
are as you were the first time l met
yOu-that petite souper at the Cafe des
| AnglaiS-When your boys eyes first
( looked into mine" Her white arms
| that princes have longed for in vain
close around him; she cIings to him,
signing: Then afterward I'll tell you
how to find her."
Uncompromisingl he tears himself
from her and commands: Tell me
where 1 will find her now: tell me so
that I can go back to her and dare to
kiss my wife's lips, knowing that l am
true to her. Think-think what you
once were when your father and moth
er in Ohio loved you and believed in
their little girl. BY heaven, 1 know
| there is good in you, Sally-only let it
come out, just this time he entreats.
Just tell me where 1 can find my dar-
ling. so that can rescue her in time,
for you know these are villains who
| have stolen her from me"
a being OF impulse, La Belle Black
wood wrings her hands, her head
droops and she sobs: Then, Burton,
I'll forgive you and tell you. There is
little good in NELL tell you all I
know of your bride, which is very lit
| tie. / think the road they took her
was north of the path that we fol-
| lowed. But where Enid is, 1 know
not"
"Then saliceto! I'll tear it from
him."
II hardly think he can tell you. His
followers were strangely frightened
and embarrassed when the BeIlacoscia
young men demanded your bride from
them, and as an evasion, substituted
me-" Then, noting the fearful look on
Barnes face, she cries: Don't waste
your time here; ask the man who
knows
"Ah!'
"Cipriano DanelIai The head of this
affair didn't want you to find her-not
until they killed you, If it were posi-
| bic. Oh, this Corsican count. who is
playing with you is a great man-not
boy"
"Cipriano DaneIla,'' calculates
Barnes; then turns to her and ques-
This is all you can tell me? Is it
| the TRUTH"
Eyes, as God will never forgive me
VERY WELL" says Barnes, ct thank
you for the information. 1 will now
see that you get out of Corsica safely"
"How?"
My friend, the great BeIlacoscia,
viii do it for me-"
The great bandit He will take me
from Corsica? Diable, the magnificent
bandit-that would be an adventure, -
laughs the volatile lady airily. 1.-THE
ferocious bandit I have read Of This
Bellacescia who kills gendarmes as if
they were f1iesl That's greater than
even q pork packer, a cattle man or a
Count Danelia, isn't it? l thank you
for the bandit, Mr.. Barnes. Besides,
thank you for the first kiss after you
swore TO the minister to love and
cleave to Enid Anstruther Don't tell
your bride; she would not like it, Mr..
Barnes of New York"
With a muttered groaning oath,
| Barnes runs down the stairs, her airy
| laugh pursuing him through the old
| hallway Of the Corsican house.
He steps out upon the porch. The
great oaks had seemed romantic to
him when he entered; the vines climb
| ing up the balustrades had appeared
poetical, the grand mountains tipped
with snow under the soft southern
moonlight had inspired him by their
beauty. Now all is a hideous blank to
him. He mutters: "Cipriano Danella, -
and asks: My God, where is she?''
A happy-faced young man with elat-
ed air and dust-covered clothes is
squirting hastily up the avenue, a ma
tive boy trotting beside him. Seeing
the American, he calls out: "Glad to
hear you and Enid are again yardarm
to yardarm; though you look lovesick
enough, Barnes of New York.
Awaking with d start, Burton looks
at him and gasps: Edwin. you here?''
Easy enough. 1 found a letter left
with Lady Chartris' housekeeper
by my wife to be delivered to
me this morning, which told me Ma
rina had come to BOcOgnanO. So 1
rushed into Nice. By good luck I found
Alingham's yacht was coming straight
to Ajaccio. For my sake he put on
steam. I made the twenty-five miles
up here from the Corsican capital on
horse, arriving before they extin-
guished the lights Of the inn. There
they told me of my noble wife and
how Marinas words had banished our
vendetta from BOcOgnan0."
This is spoken as he springs off the
horse, losses the bride to the boy, and
runs up the stairs. Marina is inside,
I imagine" he says, and calls through
the doorway: you needn't hide from
me, dear one, though 1 was mighty
angry at your desertion."
silvery laugh from up the stairs
greets him, but he turns back and
asks; Whose laugh is that? It's not
that of my wifeI' and gazing into
Barnes statue-like face, with its awful
cleaning eyes, growls: Hang it, why
don't you speak? What's the matter?'
a loft for I0acfSo o1-o. -. -