Waterbury evening Democrat., 1908-10-02
Chapter I9

V moments of that thrill. ing ride and rescue a mysterious change had been wrought in her.
 In the past days her soul had been possessed by painful agitation which she did not attempt to analyze. At moments the ingrained hatred of Hugh's act, the resentment that had been the result of that year of pain. had risen to battle for the inherent justice of things. At such times she was restless and sat much alone, pug zling David Stires by meaningless re- sponses.
 She could not tell him that the son whose name he never took upon his lips was so near; that he whose crime his fathers pride of name had hidden through all the months since then had gone down with the current, summed by honest folk, adding to his one dis nal act the weight of persistent repe- tition. She could not tell him this. even though that son now lived with out memory of the evil he had done, though he struggled under cloud of hatred. reaching out to clean deed and high resolve.
 Now, however, all distrust and trepi- dation had vanished. Strangely and suddenly the complex warfare in her mind had stilled. Standing with Mrs. Halloran, she had listened to the com ment with shining eyes. Not that she distinguished any sudden change of opinion to turn persecution to populari- ty and make the reprobate of today the favorite of tomorrow, but in its very reserve she instinctively felt a new tension of respect. Suspicion and dislike aside, there was none there who would again hinder the man who had made that race with death.
 For her own part. she only knew that she had no longer fear of soul or sense of irrevocabe loss or suffering. The Hugh she now loved was not the Hugh who had sinned. ..... ....
 He must some time learn the facts of his past. Was it not better to know the very worst it contained now, to put all behind him and face a future that held no hidden menace? She alone could tell him what had clouded his career. the thing whose sign and symbol was the forged draft. She car. ried the slip of paper in the bosom of her dress. and every day she took it out and looked at it as at some malefi- cent relic. It was a token of the old buried misery that, its final purpose accomplished, should be forgotten for ever. How to convey the truth with as little pain as might be. this was the problem, and she had found the solu- tion. She would leave the draft secret ly in the cabin, where he must see it. It bore his own name. and the deadly word David Stires' cramped fist had written across it told its significant story. How it got there Hugh would not question. It would be to him only detail of his forgotten life there.
 She was glad when late the next aft ernoon pr. Brent came for his chat with David Stires. and the latter sent her out for walk.
 All was quiet. No wisp of smoke curled from the cabin chimney. no work was forward, for Harry had climbed far up the mountain. alone with his thoughts. It was a favorable opportunity.
 Jessica had the fatcful draft in her hand as she ran quickly down the trail and across the cleared space to the cabin door. It was wide open. Peering warily. she saw that both rooms were empty, and. with a guilty last glance about her. she entered. A nail in the wall held an old violin. and beneath it was a shelf of books She