Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1908-10-01

What are all these to me? These are
words for the weak and the feeble.
they are not words for man who
can fight. will return to her. will
take her from him. And the child?"
His train of thought came to a stand.
still, and then the voice of the devil
whispered in his ear:
Perhaps the child may die
The evil thought defined itself and
almost became prayer But, before
he had defiled his soul with the wish
for the death of an innocent child, the
truth and horror OF the thought broke
on him like a blast of lightning. He
covered back against the steps, and
held up his hand to his head as though
to shield off blow.
No, no." he cried to himself, chat
is not the path to happiness. I have
sinned. l must redeem the past
must do the right thing. I must bow
my head. I must make amends, |
must act like g man of honor Then
perhaps God in His mercy will give
me peace"
Like man of honor! The thought
recalled Leonore, and he could not
shut out her face from his eyes. He
saw her reproachful look, and heard
the piteous tones of her voice. A man
Of honour would make amends. Per
haps after all this was the thing God
willed to him to do, this was the sacri-
fee that he was called upon to make.
And yet, after all, was 1t such
great sacrifice? She was a good and
talented woman, wife of whom any
man might be proud. Laura was lost
to him SO long as her child and her
husband lived, and Tankerlane might
easily live for fifty years She could
never be his wife. There was only
one course for a wise man to take.
forget, he must silence the voice of
memory with the Glamour of another
life. This loneliness was hell to him
He would be happier with woman
who loved him we'll. She would be a
comrade. She would not expect too
much. She would be the mother If
his children, and fresh life would
open out to him-a quiet domestic
life, unruffled by passion. but full Of
peace and gentle happiness. He had
strong regard for Leonore He all
mired her intellect and though her bit.
ter words had stung him to the quick,
he knew that they had only been the
cry of wounded heart.
His meditations were interrupted by
the faint sound of footsteps on the
gravel, and looking round he saw
Leonore herself walking slowly to-
wards him. Somehow he was not sur
prised to see her. 1t seemed quite
natural that she should be there.
He rose to his feet and advanced to
meet her. AS she drew near to him,
he noticed that her face was pale and
careworn, and that there were dark
rings under her eyes. But she smiled
as she held out her hand, and he took
it in his own.
''I have been expecting you," he
said, for all the world as if she were
a next-door neighbor who had dropped
in to tea. Come and sit down by the
pool. I am very fond Of this pool"
She came to the edge without
word and looked at the yellow water
eddying against the wall, Then she
shuddered
81 don't like it," she said. 'Is it
deep? What is it here for?"
can old bathing place, l believe"
he answered. THAT water Is salt,
and comes all the way from the sea.
When | look at it can fancy I am N
touch with all the oceans of the
world"
Il don't like it, she said quickly.
and she seated herself on the wall
with her back to the pool. John Shll
sat down beside her and for a few
moments both Of them were silent
The sun had gone down behind the
tall fringe Of trees, and the smooth
green lawns were in shadow
you will wonder why I have come
here said Leonore abruptly. "But l
have something Of Importance to tell
you, something that could not write
I cannot stay long, for I must return
to town by the last train Your sery-
ants told me you were home, and
took the liberty of coming straight to
the place where they said l should find
you" She paused, and clasping her
hands, looked on the ground, as though
uncertain how to proceed.
(To be &C tinued)
MUNTERVILLE.
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