Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1908-06-09

have risked my life to get them, and the
life of one far dearer than myself. I
can lay them on the table before you now,
this moment-but / think 1 am entitled
to some reward"
Say it. Name it. Anything!" cries
Sir Lucien in low, faint tone. cit is
granted"
Your consent TO my marriage with
Amber-with your niece p
Sir Lucien breaks into low chuckle.
Only that! Who cares about that?"
Still l want your word" says the
young man slowly. Il know if you once
give it, you will never breGx it" And,
indeed, in this, to do Sir Lucien only
bare justice, be understands him rightly.
THE other night, you may remember. you
threatened, if married her, to disinherit
me. | should care little about that for
myself, but / owe her great deal-a
great deal more than / can ever pay"
He pauses, sigh bursts from his throat.
He is demanding permission to marry her,
to bestow all his worldly wealth upon her,
but-will she ever listen to him again
Will she accept his gifts? For her sake,
! ask your open consent to our marriage
Marry her. Marry her!" inpatient
ly.
You have no objection"
"None. None" feverishly. IF it
comes to that, like the girl She has
courage, pride, and she has fiouted that
damned Deane. She has a look OF the
Adares, too. Is that allg'
''All," says Hilary. He moves closer to
the library table. and deliberately pro-
ceeds to empty his pockets on it. III
At first, as if bound by some sense of
decency, Sir Lucen remains silent, If
trembling, as each exquisite ornament is
laid down. But when the glittering mass
of priceless stones reaches its end, he
gives way to shout of triumph and al
most filings himself upon them.
AT last I At last ~ he cries And like
one possessed, begins feverishly to count
them.
No need to go to the old inventory in
the drawer over there, he knows by
heart how many there ought to be of all
the necklets, and bracelets, rings and
quaint old ornaments-many of them, in
these more modern days, out of use, and
in want of fresh setting.
Suddenly he turns round with a fierce
exclamation to Hilary.
The tiara y
Hilary remembering, and, indeed, feel
ing little shocked at his forgetfulness,
thrusts his hand into a side pocket and
draws out the forgotten thing that Amber
had given to him at the hall door, and
hands it to Sir Lucien, who falls upon it
rapturously.
With the shining tiara, Hilary has
pulled out too bit of soiled and ragged
paper that he had found in the old jewel
case.
Leaning towards the lamp, he runs his
eyes over the now rather illegible page.
He notices tina. on the left hand corner
tiny arrow is marked.
Thursday! Such Thursday
This is from me, Thomas O'Connell,
to you, my beloved, in heaven Tonight,
that sees you there, 1 write it, to tell you
that your last request to me has been
carried out. May Heaven forgive me if
| err. But all things / risk for you.
The Jewels are safe, your brother will
never find them. May Heaven forgive
him, too though you and l did not. Are
you listening, my only dear?'
Such an absurd little document, yet
with what terrible, wretched sincerity in
it. Something that might be called mois-
ture has clouded Hilary's eyes. Poor,
unhappy Thomas O'Connell. He pauses
Perhaps, after all-happy Thomas O'Con-
nell. He had suffered for her, he had
committed what most men would call a
crime for her; but he had loved her. And
to much love, much is forgiven.
Here Hilary's thoughts take a side
curve. The man had. sinned, beyond
doubt, in giving that promise to his wife
in her dying hour-in hiding the jewels
but he had not sold them, even when
money seemed very desirable. And strange,
far stranger than his sense of honesty
was hers-Amber's mother, the sister OF
Sir Lucien, the wife of Thomas O'Con-
nell. In all her wild wanderings, from
Dublin to London, from London to Paris,
and back again, she, WIG bad been &C
customed to money and its uses all her
life, who must have suffered intensely
from the want of It, had still held intact
the family jewels that her father, in a tit
of wanton folly, had entrusted to her
care. OF such beings was Amber born,
and in truth honor must be her heritage.