Dakota farmers' leader. (Canton, S.D.) 1890-19??, 1907-06-28

coHIh' wen, ! GDI FOUND what to me
was a Golconda, and now l could face
Sir Henry and demand his daughters
hand.
1t was nearly midnight there was no
Eight in the lodge keepers window: the
gate was unlocked, and not a hundred
yards down the drive there was a bend
from which the house could be seen. With
nc excuse but a lover sfolly, ! passed
the gate and walked to the bend, and
there / stood for fully FIVE minutes, saz-
ing at a solitary light In one of the win
dows, giving a loose rein to my fancy, and
letting it carry me into n paradise, where
| saw no face Eut Ethel Duncan's.
When at length | turned to 90 back
| perceived a tall, grey figure standing
In the alley formed by a footpath which
turned from the drive at the bend. 1t
was Sir Henry; l recognized him at a
glance. There was nothing remarkable
in his being there at this hour, even if
the night had been less tempting to a late
stroll. He was a man of odd, ~ascetic
habits. sometimes combining himself for
days together II one room. at others wan
dering on the downs night after night
in weather hat made even the coast
guard shirk his duty.
who are you?" he asked, stepping
forward.
Bernard Thorne."
II thought So" he said, and then add
ed, in a peremptory tone, Tell me what
you are doing here. You have come here
to see my daughter. You have written
to her
II have done nothing of the kind"
rs that true?" he asked, in a tone
that stung me.
You have never known me to attempt
to deceive you l answered, warmly.
Indeed You promised you would not
return until you had a fortune to offer
my daughter
AND on that condition you suffered me
to hope that | might make her my wife.
1t was an expedicnt perhaps to get rid of
me. You did not expect me to return
before you had married your daughter to
a husband more to your taste than your
late secretary. But you held out that
hope to me: / accepted it; and now that
you see me here you know the reason
I ave a fortune to offer your daughter"
1T is incredible. l was told you had
gone to America. Even there you have
not had time to make a fortune-hon-
estly.'
Il dare not trust my tongue to answer
you after hat insinuation," said 1, step
ping aside in order to pass him.
Wait" he said. putting his stick rude
" before me. Our estimates of for
tunes may differ considerably. What is
this fortune you have made?'
Il cannot tell you. 1t may be ten
thousand pounds it may be less"
Ten thousand pounds! Do you know
that my daughter may accept a husband
| with twenty times that amount? You
mistake your position. What is ten thou
sand pounds?"
Enough to make me independent of
your generosity, and that is all I sought.
l dare now to ask your daughter to be
my wife, and It is for her-not you-to
decide whether I shalf be her husband or
not
lone moment. One question at least
I have a right to ask, and one which
you, with the antecedents of your fam
lily before you, ought to answer. How
have you come by this money!"
~ am not n a state of mind at this
moment to tell you my history. If I told
yeu row you would think me more mad
than my presence here at this time gives
you reason to suppose I am. In a pro-
rei time and Iiace l will tell you ALL"
Before you speak to my %daughter?"
- leS. -EN Cpoua IldI We StDdTdlcQ willie
out another word.
/ greatly regretted this meeting with
Sir Henry and the avowal it had led
me to make. For. ardently as I desired
t, meet Miss Duncan. and put my fate in
her hands, I felt that / must do my
duty by my faithful little friend, and
provide for Psyche's future happiness be-
fore l considered my own. l must wiring
a confession of the mysterious crime fro1u
my grandfather, and find the girls fam
lily. l had promised not to ABANDON her,
but without that promise my heart would
never have suffered me to go away from
her, as she pathetically put it, until /
had found those who had a right to take
my place as her guardian and dearest
friend. If Sir Henry Duncan thought
fit to question my grandfather about the
fortune l had acquired, the old rascal,
discovering ny Escape, would, to avoid
unpleasant consequences to himself, get
out of the way before I could draw a
confession from him.
reflected also that Mrs. Benham or
the telegraph 10y might spread the news
OF my return in Bonport, and that this
would speedily reach Old Peters ears and
put both the old ~rascals on the alert.
However, there was one simple way of
securing M grandfather, and that was
to forestall others by tackling him at the
very earliest hour. With the determine
ton to so over to the Halfway House
as soon as it sot light I returned to the
cottage and lay down without taking of
my clothes. chat 1 might not oversleep
myself. Nevertheless. it was broad day
light when / awoke, and then it was
only Psyche's cry Of delight from the
next room that aroused me. Ihe canary
was singing.
"Hark the little cav !" she cried.
/ babe her sleep again until / called
her, and slipped noiselessly oSt of the
house, fearing my going would trouble
her if she knew it.
Looking down to the shore from the
cliff at Deadman's Point / saw the waves
bursting over the scattered rocks where
VIC had risen from our burrcw the day
before. The great blocks were so closely
thrown together that it was impossible
to distinguish the exact spot, and /
knew that by this time the sea had wash
ed in the sand and effaced all sign of our
work. 1t seemed to me new hardly pos
sibic that we two could have been lying
toiiing under that fallen cliff for more
than four months. Something un:,leas-
antly akin to a thirs. for vengeance pos
scssed me as I neared tie Halfway !
House and thought of the old villains |
who had doomed me to perpetual impris- |
cnment there and who had robbed psor |