The pioneer express. [volume] (Pembina, Dakota [N.D.]) 1883-1928, 1908-10-30

to the load I must carry. The more
prosperous l become, the more terri
BILE is that fear. l am punished, heav.
en- knows, but this is not all.
Every evening, and in the evening
only, for many years past hear all
that was said and see all that was
done when l murdered Forde. Imme.
diately after Forbes death, and for
some time afterwards, my words and
his and the terrible deed itself would
come to m occasionally and indis-
tinctly, and I could fight them down.
Then they began to come more fire.
uently and with greater clearness. un-
til heard and saw a perfect repro.
duction of everything that took place,
AMI every evening hear and see it
all. Nothing is wanting. I hear, I
speak, I see. I push Forde over. I
hear his body fall. 1t is torture-it is
agony. This, too, is my punishment.
"These things must bear. If I
had had myself only to consider I
must long ago have killed myself or
given myself up to justice. But there
is my wife and there are my children,
innocent of offense. And am
coward because of them. For their
sakes must endure to the end, what
ever that end may be. In making
this statement, which will not appear
till after my death, hope that for
their sakes it will not be thought
necessary to give it to the public. In
my will l make such restitution to
Thomas Forde, through his heirs, as
it is in my power to make"
This extraordinary confession bore
the date of the previous year; that
is to say, it had been written about
ten months before the death of Sir
John Sisterson.
Norman read it over quickly, and
got the general sense of it; then he
read it second time, slowly and care.
fully.
do you remember, Christabel," he
asked her, holding the sheets of pa
per in his hand, what l told you
about my mothers suspicious regard
ing Sir John Sisterson and my father?
1t was the night when we dined at
the Savoy with Philip and Miss Ad.
dington."
"Yes,' said Christabel, expectantly.
Was she likely ever to forget it, she
wondered.
"My mother was right. In this
document Sisterson confesses that he
stole the secret of his cement from
my father, but there is something
much worse than that. He admits
having murdered my father to get sole
possession of that secret" said Nor.
man, putting the murder last, so as
not to shock Christabel too much.
Read this, and see for yourself" And
he handed the document to her. I'm
afraid that l have distressed you," he
went on, noticing that her hand shook
as it took the sheets from him, and
that her face was pale and agitated.
Without replying she began to read.
There was little that was new to
her, except the details about William
Cross and the sufferings through
which Sir John had passed. 1t was
those sufferings of his that touched
her most now.
"How terribly Sir John was pun
ished!" she said, handing back the
sheets to him.
Yes, but he was murderer" said
Norman, hot with wrath. "He killed
my father-it was foul murder. He
robbed my father, my mother, and me.
1t is dastardly story of robbery and
wrong!"
at is" said Christabel. ut is no
wonder that you cry out; but Sir
John is dead"
Norman nodded gloomily. He sat
still beside her, thinking. At length
he spoke.
Il suppose Lady Sisterson and Sir
Maxwell know nothing of this" he
said, land it's almost worse for them
than it is for me. And it all hap
pened such a long time. ago. It's like
a voice from the grave. How strange
it isl"
ITO Be Continued1