The Montgomery advertiser., 1907-10-14

Carp etc.
 , mHHmMMH1aIMGnMmMmMullm Leonore's card. and scowled thought fully at the name.
 "Tll call on yer tomorrow morning." he said. "To think of pore 'Enry a-cail- in on a real play actress"
 Mrs. Burton entered the room with a glass of gin and water, and Leonore went upstairs to Laura
 John Shil has gone,' she said, as she entered the room, "and he will not trouble you again. But you must leave here at once, if the baby can be moved. l will give you the address of a nurs- ing room in Broadstairs, where you both will receive every care and atten- ton that medical skill can provide. You want nursing back to health yourself. I wifi call and see you this weekend. [ can get down after the show Is over. and return on Monday. We can then talk over plans for the future"
 Tt is very good of you. Leonore." said Laura faintly. God bless you, dear, for your kindness" And, throwing her arms round her friends neck, she kissed her tenderly.
 The actress returned her embrace with less warmth. and as she drove home to her flat ,she still felt Laura's kiss on her cheek. and 1t semed to scar her flesh.
 For Leonore had taken another down. ward step in that bright summer morn ing, and sheycould not shut out the pos- sible conseQuences from her mind. She had offered to purchase something which might place John shil in net hands. And she had done this,so that she might have him in her power, ana bend his stubborn nature to her VII.
 Such evil can love work in the heart of passionate woman.
 CHAPTER XIX.
 The Bargain.
 The next morning Laura and her iil- tie child went down to Broadstairs, John Shil left London for his new home in Essex, and Leonore had long interview with Henry Burton.
 The result of this interview was sat- isfactory to one at least of the par ties. Burton left the house with forty pounds in his pocket and he was prom ised a similar sum every quarter II ne continued to hold his tongue about what he had seen in the Round Pian- tation, In addition to this he had bound himself by a solemn oath to have no more dealings with William Tankerlane, and to speak the truth 1T Leonore should ever call upon him to do so.
 When he had left the room, Leonore leaned back in her chair and stared vacantly at the ceiling. Her brain was in 6 tumult. At first she thought less of her transaction with Burton than of the information she had bought, ana of the light which the narrative had thrown on circumstances which had hitherto been incomprehensible.
 She had always wondered why Laura had refused to marry Nthe man she loved, and had consented to marry William Tankeriane. Now at fast she had knowledge of the truth, and the Knowledge was bitterness to her. Lau- ra had maPred Tankerlane to save her lover. In silence and secrecy this wo- man had made the greatest sacrifice any woman can make for g man. She had given herself body and soul to a man whose very presence was loath- some to her. Small wonder that she had been glad to learn that the mar rtage was a farce; small wonder that she had refused to iegalize the mar riage, ana that only the thought of her child had forced her to make second sacrifice. Such was the love of Laura Vane, unqnestioning, complete, its perfect strength. And 1t was bit- terness to Leonore to think of 1t and compare 1t with her own.
 What had she herself done for the man she loved7 She had devoted all her energies to gain her own selfish ends without any regard for the hap piness of others. She had forced Lau- ra Vane to consent to a marriage with and she had bought the dark secret of John Shil's life in order that she might use 1t to her own ad- vantage. In vain she tried to persuade herself that she had done this to save him from the threats and malevolence of Henry Burton. She knew well enough that Shil himself was a rich man, and would readily have paid more than she could afford to pay in the way of hush money. She could not hide the truth from her conscience. She had paid for the information, and not for the silence of Henry Hlurton.
 Bnt se1f-condemnation was not the only disturbing thought in Leonore's mind as she pondered over the infor- nation she had Just purchased, The story itself, bearing as 1t did on the conduct of the man she loved, was suf- terrible. It was incomplete, lncoherent, and indefinite. It had been told by a man who could only speak of what he had seen and heard. It was the narrative of 8 cold-blooded and purposeless crime. Henry Burton could supply no information as to mo- DhE9Eeb excuse for John ShiIs conduct. Yet Leonore's heart told her that the man she loved could only have acted as he did under the strongest proVoca- tion. She determined to learn the truth from his own lips.
 Then William Tankeriane, her own h husbandn rose up as a menace to her future plans--a grim tspectre that the destruction of all her hopes and schemes. He knew all that had told her. It was even pos- sible that he knew more. It was cer- taip that he had paid the man to be silent. and that he had ceased making the payments with a definite object in view. So long as Tankerlane was in 3 position to inform against John Shil, so long would her own plans be in danger, and her own knowledge worth less. She resolved to see her husband at the earliest opportunity and bring pressure to bear upon him. She had a tempting bait to offer If he took it, she would catch two fish on one line; Laura would be held captive in a pris- on from which there was no escape. and Tankerlane's silence would be en- sured.
 It only took Leonore ten days to find her husband, though John Shil had searched for months in vain This aDeadV result uma hro,uhf