The pioneer express. [volume] (Pembina, Dakota [N.D.]) 1883-1928, 1907-12-13
CHAPTER xvI.-(continued.)
The man shook his head.

ne SdIu, anu leu lie Cell you Lue SIOFy
the best way I can. I've told you that
l helped him escape. We became
friends in prison. and I liked Jack,
and that's why did what 1 did. got
him away safely, and took him to some
pals of mine in Leeds. But he was i'll
when he escaped. He'd got chest
trouble on him. didn't know that or
I should have advised him to wait.
He had a rough time tramping about
the moor till it was safe to get on the
railway, and suppose he got bad
chill. The worry and the excitement
and the chill were more than he could
stand A week ago he died!''
"Died!"
With a choking sob May Wilson
reeled back The man caught her by
the arm.
Don't take on, there's a good lass"
he said, Eat least not here. 1 risEed
good deal in helping him, and if the
police"
EYES," exclaimed May, trying to be
calm. Il understand. But my husband
my poor husband. You said that
you brought me message from him."
Eyes; he knew he was dying. He
gave me your address some days ago,
and told me to bring you to his bed
side. But before could start he was
taken worse and died in the night. We
did all we could for him, poor chap,
and gave him decent burial. But I
thought you ought to know, and so
I've come to tell you and to say how
sorry am for you.
"Thank you, thank you," sobbed the
distracted woman. IL cannot say
any more to you now; must go
home"
She turned her head and spoke her
thoughts unconsciously.
poor jack she said; "dead-and 1
shall never see you again. God forgive
you-God forgive mel"
Her head was bowed and the tears
ran down her cheeks.
cts hard, know" said the man,
softly, "but perhaps it's better. 1t
would have been a terrible life for
him-ill, and hunted convict; he's
better of as he is, poor chap"
May Wilson raised her head. She
might never see this man again. She
had no one in whom she could con-
tor advice.
"And the police" she said, "do they
do they know of his death?"
"No; we haven't let them know-it
wouldn't do. You see, there would be
an inquiry, and that would bring the
escape home to me- perhaps-it would
be certain to bring the 'harboring,' as
they call it, home to those who gave
him shelter. 1t would be two years
for all of us-and you won't give us
away, 1 know-not for being friends
to your husband. If the police should
ever come to you, you won't know
anything. You'll promise me that,
won't you?"
81 promise sobbed May. She held
out her hand, and he took it.
From the bottom of my heart I
thank you for your kindness to him."
she said, land you may be sure that
will never betray you. No word Of
what you have told me shall ever pass
my lips"
The man raised his hat, and May
stood for moment watching him as
he walked quickly away.
Then she turned and walked slowly
toward her home.
Now that the man had gone, now
that she was alone in the deserted
rt~ h1 c-%i ~ icrhf
broken only by the jingling of piano
in one of the little houses that she
passed, she could hardly realize the
meaning of the message that had just
been delivered to her.
John Wilson, with all his sins upon
his head, lay in his grave. There was
no fear for him now. And the disas-
trous story of her married life had
come to an end. She was free wo-
man.
In the first shock of the news of her
husbands death her heart had gone
out to him, and for moment the old
love that she had given him so loyalty
In the early days of her married life
had returned.
But as she walked on up the quiet
street and the food-gates of memory
were opened the later years came
back, and she realized that to the
man who had escaped from Jail only
to die miserable death she had been
nothing but a name.
II he had ever had any love for her
ut all it had died out Of his heart long
ago.
She had tried to think Of herself as
his wife to the last. She had written
him affectionate letters to the Jail, and
looked eagerly for his replies. She
had even one time hoped that when
the days Of his sentence were over he
might come back to her, and she might
help him to lead new and an honest
life.
But by the death-bed Of that hope
she recognized how vain It would have
proved. !.
Her husband was dead. Owing him
no longer loyaity % q wife, she no
3onesI feated 70 confess. the truth.
He1 IoHa epr th9t husband who had
i kn1a5hAft hid. died 16nk 1jSf0fe nf1tA