Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1907-08-23

l
stage robbery, that picture had saved
the Canadians life, and ever since
lain against the wild, wicked heart OF
Gilbert Vye-the shadow Of the fair
innocent daughter, whose love for him
was the most precious and potent thing
In his reckless existence.
By the light Of Shirlaw's torch, Es-
ther looked long and silently at the
photograph. She recognized both Mig
non and Maud LOTUS. So did Shirlaw,
but neither spoke. Kneeling by Gill
bert Yves dead body, under the black
pines and the white moon, the girls
! mind was busy.
She remembered that Fleetwood had
visited Colorado before her fateful ac-
lquaintance with him began. AS flash
of lightning breaks on a black cloud,
SO did a full comprehension Of her
husbands desertion burst on Esther
at last He had discovered that she
was the daughter Of Black Dave and
fed from her in horror.
She hid the leather case and its con-
tents in her dress, and arose blindly
to her feet.
II have come long way" she said,
bitterly, "to learn some terrible things!
We are both accursed-Mignon and T..
Oh, she must never know his fate-it
would kill her! She loved him-I did
not"
"She need not know" muttered Shir-
law, "even though his death gets into
ali the newspapers Of the country; for
probably there Is no person west OF
the Mississippi tonight, save ourselves,
who has the smallest suspicion that
Black Dave and Gilbert wye were one
and the same person."
She stood looking sadly down on the
stark body at her feet
81, more than Mignon. am the daugh-
ter Of this man." she shuddered, "for
have inherited his nature! Once, at
Cinderville, he told me that his seal
was upon me. Oh. see his evil In
myself now, and see myself with abb
horrent eyes! Do not stare, Victor
Shirlaw. but rejoice that your lot and
mine are forever separated"
He made no reply. He thought her
distracted with the events Of the night.
The miners came down the hillside
path and began to dig a grave under
the pines. The sound rent EstheTs
heart, for in spite Of his crimes,
known and unknown, he was her faith
er-he was Mignon's father. She
crossed his hands decently on his
breast, sobbed out a prayer for mercy
on his guilty soul and then Shirlaw
led her back to the cabin, and all that
was left Of Gilbert wye. gentleman, and
Black Dave, road-agent, was a heap
of fresh earth under the pines, in the
wood, where the stage full Of vigilants
had been stopped that night.
Up in the hillside cabin Esther drew
from her pocket Aunt Deb's message,
which she had come so far to deliver
to Gilbert wye, and dropped it, un-
opened, into the fire.
HE Is dead!" she thought, "and
surely have no right to pry into Aunt
Deb's secrets!"
So the words Of mysterious impor-
tance, written by the old woman's
half f-paralyzed hand in the Charlestown
cottage, were burned, unread, on
miners hearth among the far Colora-
do foothills.
"There Is nothing left for me to do"
said Esther to Shirlaw, "but to return
east Immediately"
"Allow me to take you back to Dia-
mond City," he pleaded, "and see you
safely started on your homeward jour
ney. You cannot deny me this favor,
Esther. 1t is the last, the only one,
that I will ever ask Of you."
mo" she answered, with tear-wet
eyes; 81 shall be only too glad to ac-
cept your kindness. Till die, Captain
Shirlaw, 1 will remember gratefully all
that you have done for me this night"
She had thought him weak and tickle,
as, indeed he was. But natures like
Shirlaw's sometimes develop an odd
vein Of fidelity.
Long months after, in dreary
canon, the bullet Of hostile Apache
cut short that gallant young life. and
in dying one word fell from Victor
Shirlaw's lips. and was distinctly heard
and remembered by a brother-officer
who supported his fallen comrade. It
was a woman's name-"Esther!"
The one supreme and hopeless pas
it's end.
/ra d.