Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1907-04-09
CHApTER XIV.

fAOIus syCne ITO nOIf- I1cA AO7S -
"a terrible blow to all who had known
her. Even my grandfather followed up
to the grave as we left it, and droppeu
in the flowers he had gathered ior lna'
purpose but the one most FRUSTRATED was
Sir Henry Duncan. He looked IKE
man who never slept. Morally and pny-
sicaIly he seemed unable TO hold up MS
bead and looked as If he had risen from
a bed of sickness against his will. His
condition perplexed Ethel, as much as IL
alarmed her.
HE has always suffered from occa-
sional fits of detection" Ethel said to me,
I"and hitherto | have been able to give
him relief. But now my efforts fail
1t seems as if he did NOT hear my voice.
I wish you could persuade him to have
medical advice"
Finding him alone in the park that
evening l told him what she had said.
"Yes," he said, "it is time | did some
thing. I can't go on like this, blighting
the happiness of all | love. You will be
over early tomorrow morning; tell her
j have gone to consult the best physician
/ know, and shall act on his advice, no
matter what it is. / can't tell her my
SCH sue u ASK QueSllOiiS, anu nave
never told her lie"
He was absent tie next day, and
told Ethel what he had promised TO do;
but / knew that he had gone no farther
than the rocks where Psyche persisted,
and that Conscience was the only physi-
clan whose guidance he sought and in
tended to follow. We met him IN the
evening as he was coming home, his hands
behind him, his chin almost on his breast.
I've seen him, love-" he said, taking
Fthel's hand with more tenderness than
nc had lately displayed Says / need a
change. Tells me l must go away as
soon as possible"
Il thought he would advise that"
Ethel said. Where shall we go?"
II shall 60 alone" he said firmly, and
then with an abrupt change When shall
you be marrie1?"
1T is almost too early to think of
that" she replied, looking down at the
crepe on her dress.
IT suppose conventional considerations
must be studied even in quiet wedding.
should have liked to wait until you
were married, Gear but don't think l
must delay this-.tis journey. l want
to avoid anything ike parting" he
continued, after pause. my sister is
coming down with her youngsters next
week-perhaps l shall go then, perhaps
before. as / can't stand children. Any
how, | shall not say goodbye to you"
One night at the ned of the week, after
had parted from Ethel, | found Sir
Henry in the drive, where he waited pur-
posely for me.
~ want to talk to you" he said. Let
rs go on to the downs This path is the
most direct"
We turned from the drive, and walk
ed In silence through the shade.
DO you believe in expiation, ThorneE
lie cried suddenly.
"lf you mean reparation for injury
done 1 began. He interrupted me
impatiently.
",rhere are some injuries that can new
er be repaired. Do you believe that
man may get mis- sou! out of torment by
sn act Of self-sacriEce-that is what l
mean?"
NO. To injure oneself for having in
inred another doubles the offense.'
IF a man may cry quits with society
when he has served his term in gaol for
breaking society's laws, why should not
a mans conscience be at peace when he
has inflicted upon himself the punishment
he deserves? How else is he to get his
soul out of that torment when the vul-
ture of reproach tears at it night and
day? There is no other way by which
nc may hope to meet those he loves here
after"
'But for that fear of something after
death" he continued in lower tone,
speakinc to himself rather than address
irc me, 1.-THE fea- of facing one pale
haired. sweet-faced child, and but for the
hope of meeting my dear daughter-es-
cape from this purgatory would be easy
and quick enough!''
The park was bounded by deep ditch
We leapt it; but on the other side Sir
Henry stopped as If il had recalled some
thing to his mind and instead of strik-
eng over the downs, as had seemed his
Intention, he followed the edge of the
ditch till it >an into deep cleft in the
cliff. whence the drainage was carried
of
The cleft was deep but not more than
sin or eight feet wide at the surface. and
II grew deeper as il went down to the
o,itlet on the shore. Following the cleft
for some twenty PAGES. Sir Henry stop
,,ed at n point where the turf showed
that load of lime had been thrown
there.
II had lime shot in he said, because
,bere is something dead and putrid down
.here. Peter Beamish is down there. /
shot him through the head that night
,ou remember :"
~ .hot tho e-ir,a vou "a roin,, e. -
mater | cried.
He laughed hoarsely. "Crime 20 he ex-
claimed. Il think no more of shooting
that villain shrough the head than if
he had been mad dog"
He kicked clod down the cleft. and
NJ it fell with a thud on the lime that
covered old Peter. he said:
Fancy il thing like that--a vile. ignor-
ant rufian. ninety and odd. keeping me
under his thumb for dozen years. hold
,ne me at his mercy, threatening my
daughter with lifelong disgrace. With a
little more wit he might have taken ev-
ery penny of my ill-gotten fortune from
nae. You must know by this time that
! am the man who gave him that chest
70 sink out at sea. Every meeting we
had was in the dark, and under a dis
guise believed he could not recognize
mC-but he did. He was used 10 the
night; il was part of his old business 10
penetrate DISCUSSES. and know what sort
% man he had &c deal with He told me
how they had discovered her and brought
her 20 life. But no bride would induce
him TO give her up TO me. or tell me
where l would find her. Perhaps your
gTanUather's mercy had something TO
30 with that. He thought, maybe. that
having tried to destroy her once. l only
wanted to get her again to do the deed
efectually. For twelve years thar went
on. Then l saw your advertisement in
the Times. and answered it through a
firm of solicitors in London. When /
heard from hem that the girl you had
found was the child l had tried to muir
der. / lost my head, and Peter Beamish
coming 10 me at that very moment for
r,ssnsv. and with his usual threats of